Olga Rudnik asked Santa for only one thing.
Well, technically, two: Mindy Swenson’s tits.
Olga had been good all year, every year.
And Molly was, to be blunt, a stuck-up bitch, forever on the naughty list.
Santa left two lumps of coal for Mindy that year.
On her flattened chest.
Then he flew to Olga’s house, went down her chimney, and replaced her tits with Mindy’s.
He thought about giving Olga’s to Mindy…but he was running late and had to many more stops to go.
The next morning, Olga woke up, looked down, and screamed with joy.
Mindy just screamed.
Weekly Challenge #764 – STILL
- Lizzie
- Richard
- Serendipidy
- Tom
- Norval Joe
- Rick
- Planet Z
LIZZIE
He looked outside. Nothing… He squinted and felt trapped. The river was still there, flowing freely. But where were they? No boats, no whales, no dragons. They weren’t coming after all, were they? He squinted again and thought he saw a… No, nothing. The people here mustn’t know he was expecting them. Then the horn sounded. Alarm, alarm. He rushed back to the window, but… “Ronnie, what’s going on?” He shook his head. “Come on. It’s time. Let’s get you bathed.” He knew one day they’d come and rescue him. “And don’t forget to take your pills,” said the nurse.
RICHARD
Sparkling or Still?
“Sparkling or still?” The waiter asked, his face cocked expectantly to one side.
“Tap!” I responded bluntly, and his upper lip curled into a semi-snarl.
Yes, I’m one of those annoying people who balk at the thought of paying for ridiculously overpriced bottled water in posh restaurants.
It’s bad enough being charged for the dry and tasteless bread rolls that they slip onto your table without invitation, but it just adds insult to injury when you’re expected to pay for water too.
“One tap water”, he snarled.
“Oh, with ice, please – I assume that’s made from tap water too?”
SERENDIPIDY
At first, there is the terror – the screaming and crying; the frenzied fighting. The heart pounds, arms and legs flail, the body twists and turns maniacally as the pain courses through.
Time passes; your struggles begin to cease, breathing becomes heavy and laboured. Then comes sobbing, the weeping, the whimpering.
Soon, exhausted, broken and beaten, both physically and emotionally, you cross the boundary between hope and despair. The will to live that has driven you so far, now fails and fades.
Succumbing to the inevitable: There is nothing, save the occasional involuntary twitch.
Until, at last, all is finally still.
TOM
Cluster Fuck III
As music dies down, all that is left is the rustle of paper and fabric. Then just a still. On the stage is a lone mic, a singular silver thread in a mass of mat black flats and curtains. Greg slowly walks across the stage dozens upon dozens of eye tracking him. In the row ahead and to the left sits the woman who was the departed woman’s best friend. I know because she has said as much the whole week. Greg tracks the room and takes hold of the mic stand like a man born to the touch.
NORVAL JOE
Billbert held his breath when the federal agents approached Linoliamanda. “Okay, young lady. Tell us what you know about this boy’s super powers.”
Linoliamanda stood there, as still and silent as a winter night after snow fall.
Mr. Withybottom put his hand on her shoulder. “Come on, Linny. Tell them what you told me.”
She glared at her father, fire burning in her eyes. She pressed her lips still tighter together and shook her head.
The federal agent folded his arms. “Your dad knows something and we don’t have all night. Do we need to take you downtown for interrogation?”
RICK
Still
Meditation is the art of doing nothing constructively. Our conscious mind steers our lives, for the most part, from infancy to old age. There is an incredible benefit to be had in training oneself to release control of our thoughts by the conscious mind, and allow the subconscious to take the wheel.
Once the mind is truly motionless you may be surprised, or enlightened, by that which fills the void … or skitters along a distant but visible horizon.
Observe and contemplate.
Observe is a powerful verb!
It can be all encompassing!
Observation done properly, well contemplated, can be / should be life-changing!
PLANET Z
It’s been twenty-six years since you died. Twenty-seven?
Our baby, the one you were going to tell me about, would be about that old.
A boy? A girl?
I didn’t ask.
But they’d be on their own by now.
Graduated college, maybe finishing medical school.
Or some time in the military, maybe make a career of it.
Like you did.
Would they earn honors and medals, raise kids of their own, or earn an early grave?
Like you did.
It’s easy to live in the past and the never-was.
And be just as dead in the now as you are.
Santa’s Wife
Andrew was fascinated by Santa Claus.
After decades of research, one thing he could never answer was: what was Mrs. Claus’ name?
While out hiking in Norway, he came across a strange cave.
It was warm and green inside, populated by tiny people, singing happily, building toys.
All watched over by the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.
“Niobe,” said a voice, and Andrew turned to face an ancient man with a long white beard.
“Which makes you… Merlin,” said Andrew.
The ancient wizard smiled. “And I can’t let you leave.”
Meat made the elves work harder and sing happier.
Santa credit ratings
Santa knows when you’ve been good or bad.
He also knows if you’re a good or bad credit risk.
Credit rating agencies constantly ask Santa for assessments.
Because it’s easy to fool the credit rating agencies.
Or fill their records with all kinds of false reports.
But, try as you might, you can’t fool Santa.
Leaving milk and cookies on the mantel is one way to get your credit score up.
And sending a thank you note after Christmas will net you a few points.
As for sexual favors, well, the naughtier, the better your chances for a Gold card.
The Red of Christmas
It was the first Christmas for the peacekeeping mission, and we sent out teams with trees and ribbons and gifts and supplies to make nice with the Christian minority population.
We were greeted with hugs and thanks and what little they could scrape up, offering candies and treats and dances and songs.
Wreaths on their doors and a moment of peace and love in their hearts.
We might as well have painted bullseyes on their front doors.
The deathsquads sent out more men to shoot and blow them up.
The green of Islam, the red of Christian blood.
Merry Christmas.
Candy Cane Factory
I remember when candy canes were made by hand.
Every step… mixing, heating, rolling, stretching, and so on.
All done by people.
As each machine took its place in the line, there would be people putting things in it or taking things out of it.
But there were still people involved.
Eventually, the machines all connected to other machines, a fully integrated process, and no room was left for people.
They clean themselves now, they manage themselves, and they repair themselves too.
The candy canes taste horrible, but they look nice.
We just put them on the tree these days.
Believe in
It’s a strange situation.
Santa doesn’t believe in the Easter Bunny.
The Easter Bunny doesn’t believe in The Great Pumpkin.
The Great Pumpkin doesn’t believe in The Loch Ness Monster.
The Boogeyman. Bigfoot. The Monster Under the Bed.
And so on. All the way down to Jesus.
Nobody believes in him anymore.
Not even himself.
So, they made a union. The Mythical Creatures and Beings Union.
And they all committed to believe in each other.
They had regular meetings, kept statistics, and offered mentoring.
After a while, everybody believed in everything.
The world became a very scary and weird place.
Red dye
We built a line of snowmen along the driveway, all with twig arms out in salute.
My dad would drive past them and salute back.
Then, we’d knock over the snowmen and spray red food dye on them.
When dad came back, he was horrified at the carnage.
But the real horror wasn’t until Spring.
Because the red food dye was toxic to grass.
We ended up spending the summer reseeding, resodding, and fertilizing the bald patches in the lawn.
And when the winter came again, we weren’t allowed to make snowmen again.
Or go anywhere near the kitchen cabinet.
Weekly Challenge #763 – PICK TWO: reward, puppet, global, gear, shop, pit stop
- Lizzie
- Richard
- Serendipidy
- Tom
- Tura
- Norval Joe
- Rick
- Planet Z
LIZZIE
She hated being a puppet in his hands. What gave her some peace was walking down the pathway with the old trees. One day, she noticed something shiny to the right. A marble perhaps? The next day, she brought some beads and left them there. And that’s when the gifts appeared on the pathway. First a bit of glass. Then, a button, an old key. It made her smile. It gave her strength. And she said “no more”. She walked away from him, for good. Today, she still walks that pathway, exchanging gifts with her new friend, a very generous crow.
RICHARD
Scum
“Got any gear?”
I looked at the kid with distaste. He was every inch the stereotypical druggie: Shambling and sniffing, his vacant eyes darting around in paranoid fear from his sallow, pock-marked face.
I nodded. “For the right price.”
He fumbled a handful of dirty bills from somewhere deep within his sweatpants – now you know why I always wear gloves – and I slipped him the small polythene packet.
I despise scum like him.
And I imagine that you despise scum, like me.
But, I’m just a puppet. It’s the people pulling my strings you should despise most.
I do.
SERENDIPITY
Have you ever wondered why so many serial killers remove their victims’ body parts to take as souvenirs?
It’s our reward for a job well done.
After all, no-one else is going to congratulate us on our work, so we have to take things into our own hands.
But, what to do with all those body parts, once we’ve got them? We can’t exactly put them on display or show them off to our friends!
So, I turn them into children’s toys: Lovingly crafted marionettes and puppets from stolen parts and pieces.
Perhaps your kids would like one for Christmas?
TOM
Cluster Fuck II
The woman who had set this in motion gave me that second grade teach stare. “Inappropriate language Master Marquette.” I always vexes me when someone with multiple children takes umbrage with the term. How the fuck did you end up with them, but say cluster fuck, well that just not polite intercourse. So I looked at her and gave her a “WE BE ADULTS HERE LOOK.” I wanted to say “I an’t no reward puppet, you call me up to dance, you better have a band a hand.” But she had dash back inside the hall as the music played.
TURA
Gear; Pit stop
———
At car races nowadays, the cars drive themselves, and the pit stops are totally automated. The machines can swap out a busted gearbox in seconds. No-one programs anything, the robots learn by competing against each other.
Rumour is that there’s no longer any human input, from the racetracks, to the factories, to the mines and oil wells. New tracks get built without anyone asking for them. There are twice as many as two years ago, and they’re bigger.
It’s still the most popular spectator sport, but soon the world might be just one huge racetrack, with no-one left to watch.
———
NORVAL JOE
One of the federal agents shouted at Mrs. Blanketmaker. “There’s a global conspiracy to turn all of you heroes into villains. You’re walking into their trap. Before you know it you’ll be puppets of their evil organization.”
Mr. Withybottom blustered at the agent, “Are you telling me that skinny little kid over there is, in fact, a superhero?”
The agent turned his back on Billbert’s mother. “We suspect he is. We will reward anyone with firsthand knowledge of him or anyone else using unusual powers.”
Mr. Withybottom pushed Linoliamanda forward with an evil smile. “Linny. Tell them what you know.”
RICK
General Store
Jerry had an old farmhouse, wrap around porch, big … BIG front room. And Jerry is always been something of a hoarder … food, water, cleaners, paper goods … He was set for the next 20 years.
Had a handpainted sign that read …
“General Store”
… If the sign was out front he was open for business … If not … then not.
Without a store around within 15 mi Jerry did well with cigarettes, soda, beer, and such, not a living … but he did okay.
He did make a killing on the corn liquor and homegrown marijuana!
Jerry what’s the richest guy in the county!
PLANET Z
It’s not like stealing the Mona Lisa, but long ago news broke that someone had stolen Kermit the Frog from Jim Henson’s office.
Sure, he had dozens of the things back in the day, but there was something special about this particular puppet.
And he kept it in his office, and after he died, they found it there, sitting in his chair.
People say it’s cursed. Or haunted.
The janitor at Henson Productions doesn’t even touch it.
Sometimes, when a tour goes through, people claim it’s staring at them.
But that’s just crazy. It only hunts and kills people, okay?
Doctor Odd’s Advent Calendar
Doctor Odd loved the holidays.
Every year, he’d craft some bizarre advent calendar, slowly revealing some nefarious plot to take over the world.
Or destroy it. Either way, he wasn’t picky.
This year’s effort would be his masterpiece.
Each day, he revealed a cure to some disease or affliction.
Cancer. AIDS. The common cold.
By the 24th day, he’d cured everything.
The world sang his praises on Christmas Day.
Then, Odd revealed his Nightmare Plague.
Why did he go through the trouble of creating all those cures?
He wanted a clean slate upon which to test his own newly-crafted disease.