The Night Before The Night Before Christmas

 Here's another cynical little Christmas story...


People said I looked like Old St. Nick Himself. It's not like I could deny it or anything. I was fat and had a long white beard and mustache. All I needed was a red suit trimmed in white fluff and a big wide size fifty-two black belt with a huge silver buckle on it. And a goofy hat of course.

To bad I didn't much care for kids, destructive evil  little terror machines that they were. I could have been Santa any day of the week. Hell, I couldn't even go out shopping during the Christmas season. Every brat in the store would flock around me like I was their best friend  and try to drag me after them to show me exactly what they wanted so I wouldn't screw up.

I would ask them their name and then I would pull a wadded up piece of paper out of my pocket. I would pretend to find their name on the list and tell them they were bad this year and weren't getting anything but coal in their stockings. They would run off crying and tell their mothers that Santa was being mean and she would drag the child back and tell me how ashamed I should be of myself.

My snappy response to her would depend on whether I had already been to Tenny's Tavern, or just getting ready to go there. Needless to say, it was much easier to stay out of the department stores from Thanksgiving till Christmas. It's not like I had to go to Walmart that often anyway, living alone and all. If I did feel like going, it was as much to torture the kid's as anything. At least that's what I told myself.

The Ghost Of All

Here's another old piece, one of my favorites!

The Ghost Of All

     "I'm waiting," said the voice.

     "Who said that?" I asked.

     "Sam Dilbert, 1955-2002," it responded.

     "But that's me!" I exclaimed. "I'm not dead!"

     "I know, that's why I'm waiting!" replied the calm voice...

***

     I was under the knife. Twenty five years of smoking, and drinking two pots of coffee a day has a tendency to clog the plumbing, or so I understand. The old ticker needed a bit of repair in order to function as designed under extended warranty. If I hadn't waited so long it probably would have been a simple enough procedure. But I wasn't one much for heading off to the doctors at every little pain and twitch I felt torturing my well worn body.

     They put the mask on my face and said to count backwards from one hundred. I don't know why they had me start so high, I only made it down to around eighty seven. And now I was dreaming. I didn't know you dreamed when you were put under like that. But that had to be it, why else would I be talking to someone while my chest laid split open like an over ripe tomato?

***

The Good-The Bad-The Santa

This is an old piece for the holiday season. I have one or two others if I can find them.

The Good The Bad The Santa

Little Jimmy didn't believe in Santa. After he found a bunch of gifts in his parents closet last Christmas that turned up under the tree with 'From Santa' written on the tags, why should he. Still, he was a normal kid in every other respect. He loved Christmas, he loved unwrapping presents and getting new blue jeans and toys. This year on Christmas eve, he laid awake until his parents had finished wrapping presents from 'Santa'. He heard them go to bed and he waited for what he felt was a reasonable length of time, like ten minutes, then he sneaked quietly out of his room and headed down the stairs to get a sneak preview of what 'Santa' had brought him...

Just as Jimmy had reached the landing where the stairs turned ninety degrees to continue their decent into the living room, he heard a noise coming from the fireplace so he hid behind the stair railing as best he could.