An unfinished micro-story
Gran says that putting sleeping pills in Santa’s milk was wrong. But I still think it was a good plan. If mummy hadn’t drunk the milk that I left beside the tree for Santa and if she hadn’t fed the carrots and celery to the rabbits, then everything would have gone the way it was supposed to.
Santa would have come down the chimney and drunk the milk (he would have to drink the milk because it’s bad manners not to drink something you’re offered when you’re visiting somebody’s house). Then he would have taken the carrots and celery and given them to the reindeer (they would be very hungry because they’d been pulling the sleigh all over the world). Then Santa and the reindeer would have gotten very very sleepy and fallen over.
In the morning I would go outside and the sleigh and all the toys and presents would still be on the roof. Santa and the reindeer would still be asleep and all the toys and presents would be mine.
Mummy and Bob and Gran and me would all be really happy because everyone would get lots and lots of presents and it would be the best Christmas ever.
The plan went wrong because mummy stole Santa’s milk. Stealing is wrong and mummy is bad.
After drinking all the milk mummy stayed in bed until lunchtime and nobody got any breakfast. Mummy’s boyfriend Bob was really angry because he had to go out and get us all KFC for lunch. He said that mummy drank too much and was a bad parent.
When Gran came over she made us a big dinner with two chickens and lots of potatoes and gravy. Bob said he’d already had chicken for lunch and didn’t feel like having any more. Gran got angry and called him bad names. Bob got angry too and went off to the sun room and put on a DVD with lots of people with no clothes on doing rude things to each other.
Then Gran got really, really angry and…
Readers are invited to continue the story in the comments box. If you prefer you can paste the story into your own blog and finish it there. There’ll be a competition for best story ending. The winner will receive a glass of cold milk from their own fridge.
Speaking of competitions, did Ken ever indicate whether he was prepared to be the prize in TimT’s poetry awards?
http://willtypeforfood.blogspot.com/2004/11/and-nomimes-are.html#comments
Who said we had to get consent? Is this one of those new, namby-pamby, politically correct things? I was planning to have him abducted by hired goons.
… and yelled at Bob that he was a stupid, self-centred bastard. Then she went up the hall to the fuse box and started pulling out fuses until the DVD player stopped, right when some lady was saying ?Oh yeah, give it to me baby, give it to me?.
Bob ran up the hall and started yelling too. He called Gran an interfering old bitch and she called him some more names and told him if he was gunna watch filth like that he ought to do it somewhere with a bloody door he could close so I didn’t have to see it and get sick ideas about sex and love and stuff like that. Bob said there was nothing wrong if I saw two people having a root and I could see Gran was going to have another go back at him but she never got a chance because this big bloke walked in the front door and said Oh shut up the pair of you.
I knew who it was, because he had the long white hair and beard but he wasn’t wearing the red suit they wear in the department stores. Bob said who the hell are you and who the hell do you think you are just walking into my house and Gran said whose house and Santa said Just bloody shut up will you. Bob was gunna say something, but Santa just leaned up real close to him and said Don’t even think of calling me fat-arse dickhead. Yes, I have got a lot of weight to throw around and today I’ll be throwing it around here and there’s bugger all you can do about it.
Then the elves came in. I think they must have been elves ’cause they were all really short ? shorter than me even ? and they went straight to the sun room. I followed them there to see what they were doing. One unplugged the DVD player and put it in a bag, and then he started putting Bob’s DVD’s in on top. The bag looked like it wasn’t going to be big enough to take them all, but they all fitted in somehow and the bag hardly even bulged. There was another elf who was writing stuff down while they were putting Bob’s stuff in the bag and when the bag was full he turned to Santa and said comes to 450 dollars all up.
By then Bob was in the room and he was looking really pissed off about the DVD player and all the DVDs but Santa gave him a look that was nothing like the jolly look he has on the Chrissy cards and Bob went and stood in the corner. He pushed himself right into the corner and I thought if he pushed any harder he’d go through the wall and end up outside the house which maybe was what Bob was thinking too. Santa took one look at the stuff on the floor and said bloody cheap Chinese knock-offs. Where do people get this shit? He signalled to the elves and they picked everything up and stuffed it into the bag with the DVDs and Santa said now what does that come to and the elf who was doing the writing said 450 dollars. Sorry boss but you know this shit’s got no resale value.
So Santa and the elves talked a bit, and Santa said OK, give him the X-Box and the Halo II and see if you can come up with something that won’t bore the little bugger shitless after three weeks out of what’s left. He looked at Bob and said, You, outside now. We’re going to have a talk. So Bob and Santa went into the back yard and they had a talk, but it was a very quiet one. Bob came back with a cut lip and a black eye.
Santa came back inside after Bob and told the elves it was time they all went. Before he left he told me never to try that bullshit with the sleeping pills again. Bob wouldn’t say what he and Santa talked about in the back yard and he doesn’t like to talk about Christmas much at all. Any time I say anything like I’m looking forward to Santa coming back he says yeah, that’s really something to fkn look forward to.
But then I got to stay up late and watch TV with Mummy and Gran while Bob went to off to the pub to play the pokies. He said something about his luck changing.
We watched a show called Eddie McGuires “White Xmas”