((another story which should never have made it out of my skull. Rated PG.))
You must login to vote
I stepped out of the toy department, bags in hand, and was about to make a run for the elevator. Then I heard it. Far away and ghostly: jingle, jingle, jingle…
I looked around myself and found, to my horror, that I was alone. Excepting, of course, my horror, which lounged against the storefront and leered at me. It was time to be going. I made off toward the elevator, not running, whistling the theme song to Magnum P.I. to help keep my spirits up. Then I heard it again: jingle, jingle, jingle…getting closer. I clutched my bag to me and looked around wildly. Where was it? I wasn’t afraid! Oh no, not me. Then suddenly: jingle jingle JINGLE JINGLE…
A great red something came barreling at me, jingling madly all the while. This struck me as odd, and I reeled back, because odd packs quite the punch. I made it to my feet again just in time to note that the big red something was most definitely about to crash into me.
JINGLE JINGLE JINGLE CRASH!
I would’ve fallen, had the big red something not had two massive black hands which reached out to steady me by the lapels. I found myself staring into a reddened, sweaty face with beady, wild eyes that darted every which way before settling on me. Suddenly, it all came together, nearly crushing me. It was a Santa Claus. Not THE, to be sure, but rather an official Store Santa, sans beard.
“YOU’VE GOT TO HELP ME!” he bellowed entreatingly.
“Settle down, settle down,” I said calmly.
“They’re AFTER me!” he cried fearfully.
“What’re They?” I asked definitively.
“Nasty, horrible kids!” he whined childishly.
“So? It’s your job to deal with kids,” I said authoritatively.
“These aren’t normal children!” he said oddly.
“What’s wrong with them?” I asked brokenly.
“They’ve got these horrible sharp teeth!” he said pointedly.
“You didn’t give them candy, did you?” I asked sweetly.
“They’ll fire me for this, won’t they?” he said resignedly.
“Don’t worry yourself too-what’s that?” I said abruptly.
“Aiiiieeeee!” he cried indefinably, and fled. I didn’t blame him.
They came swarming down the hall, little legs pumping up and down. Twenty or more, all with razor sharp teeth and big black claws. Children.
I felt some comment was called for. I said ‘Aaargh.’
"Quit this world, quit the next world, quit quitting!" -Sufi proverb.