I started with a tree with a bird in it, chopping it down.
Shot two doves the next day.
Killed three hens in a local hatchery.
And then pegged four ravens off of a telephone wire.
Killing birds is easy, but collecting the five golden rings would be a challenge.
Rob a jewelry stand at the mall
Mug some housewives for their wedding bands?
I settled for ripping the ear off of a punk outside of a nightclub.
I’m going to the park to bag some geese today.
Hopefully they won’t notice before I go back tomorrow for the swans.
Category: Christmas
Vampire Claus
People assume vampires are skinny and wear black, but I know a fat one who wears red and white.
Yes, Santa Claus is a vampire.
The bell-ringers? The mall Santas?
Indentured human servants to scout for healthy and wealthy victims.
You can tell a lot about a person when they sit in your lap.
Their breath. Their fitness. Are their eyes clear or yellow from jaundice?
As the bag full of presents gets lighter, the sleigh and reindeer need ballast.
Those really bad children won’t be missed.
The smart ones make toys, and he calls elves.
The rest, he drinks.
Punching Santa
Why do children sit in Santa’s lap and tell him what they want for Christmas?
Because it’s a lot nicer than tripping him up, sitting on his back, and punching him in the kidneys until he gives you what you want.
This doesn’t just apply to Santa Claus and Christmas.
Stop beating the crap out of the other kids in school or you’re going to get expelled. Or put in juvenile detention.
And that counts double for your little brother during dinner.
Why can’t you say “Please pass the potatoes.” like other kids?
And don’t punch the damn potatoes, either.
Fruitcake
Tina is in the Christmas Pageant in her school.
She’s been chosen to be the Fruitcake.
That’s right. A fruitcake.
She’s going to get rolled on stage while the kids sing about how horrible fruitcake is.
I know that kids pick on other kids, especially ones in wheelchairs, but the school was supposed to stop this bullying crap.
So, we made the fruitcake costume, stuffed with fireworks.
When it was Tina’s cue, they rolled the Trojan Fruitcake out.
I pushed the remote and… it exploded.
Hurt a bunch of kids. Some permanently.
Oh well. More fruitcakes for next year’s pageant.
We Wish You
I don’t know who was more shocked… me or the genie that came out of the rusty hurricane lamp I rubbed.
He started talking about wishes when the doorbell rang.
“It’s Christmas,” I said. “Fucking carolers, I bet.”
We went upstairs, down the hall, and opened the door.
Yup. Fucking carolers!
“We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!
We wish you a Merry Christmas!”
I started to mumble something.
Genie clapped his hands together.
And then the carolers burst into flames and died.
“So, what’s wish number two?”
I wasted a wish on…
Fucking carolers!
Ornaments
I’m Jewish, my wife’s a witch, and we put up a tree for the holidays.
I do it because it’s fun, pretty, and the cats like it.
Some cats sleep under the tree.
Others like to burrow into piles of gifts like mountain lions in caves.
And then there’s ones who bite off the plastic needles and barf them up.
Our littlest cat, Myst, likes to pick off the ornaments one by one.
My wife yells at her, but she keeps doing it anyway.
“Why does she keep doing that?”
(Don’t tell her I spray the ornaments in catnip, okay?)
Look A Lot Like
It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas, but the machines have made a few mistakes here and there to make it obvious that it’s all just a ruse to keep our minds occupied while they use our bodies as power sources in gigantic energy farms.
Santa’s wearing white with red trim, the Christmas trees are covered with honey glazed ham, and all these fucking red-nosed reindeer everywhere.
As for the men in black suits with earpieces and sunglasses at every streetcorner, well, that’s actually what America was like before the machines got smart and conquered us.
Stupid Patriot Act!
The Fourth Kind Of Elf
Some elves bake cookies.
Other elves make shoes.
And then a rare few build toys in Santa’s workshop.
Somehow, people forget there’s a fourth job for elves: the military.
I mean, did you ever see Legolas baking cookies, making shoes, or building toys?
Hell no. That dude was killing orcs and other foul monsters with his bow and arrows… Twang! Twang! Twang!
I don’t think he can bake, and I’m sure he doesn’t make his own shoes, but if you asked Santa for “A dead orc with an arrow sticking out of it” I bet Legolas can fill that order.
A man of many hats
Billy and Willy are alike, identical to their bellybuttons.
But they are not rich. In fact, they’re quite poor.
(And somewhat mad.)
Come Christmas time, each puts his hat in a gift box and sticks it under the tree.
They exchange gifts this way every year at Christmas.
Year after year, using the same box, same bow and ribbon.
Billy and Willy open their gift box together, smile widely, and say “It’s exactly what I need!” in chorus.
They died on the same day, were buried in the same coffin.
With the one hat on William’s head, for all eternity.
The Gift That Keeps On Giving
Every year, I get asked the same question.
“What do you want for Christmas?”
Hrm. I have no idea.
I’m rather content with the stuff I’ve got.
Maybe an extra scrub brush for the carpet cleaner when the cat vomits, but beside that, I’m good.
“You don’t give scrub brushes for Christmas,” she says.
She dumped a pile of catalogs in my lap, and leaves more and more catalogs out for me to review.
I look through them, all full of crap I don’t want or need.
Then, I spot something.
A paper shredder.
For all these fucking catalogs.
Perfect.