santa and his little elves
(shortened version)
the night was dark and dreary. on account of the terrific snow storm.
there was a stirring on the roof of the house of 8 kids. santa(satan claws) along with his henchmen, them little helpers were trying to make their way down the fireplace. after all that pushing and shoving santa and his boys were in the house. it was a nice house. the stockings were hung over the fireplace, the christmas tree had real silver ornaments, the furniture was definitely not ikea. antique furniture like that definitely doesnt come from ikea.
some of the helpers went into the kitchen. and some of them went into the cellar. one of the helpers noticed a couple of very rare bottles - a 1787 Chateau d'Yquem and a 1775 Sherry. he very quickly ran upstairs to santa to give him the news.
santa was in one of the childrens' rooms. they were so angelic when they slept like that. soon all the helpers were upstairs amd positioned themselves outside everyones bedroom door. santa pulled out his shotgun. the helpers pulled out their handguns.
screams filled the dead of night just like the sounds of gunfire. blood spattered walls, sheets, floors. no movement. silence. they took all they could carry and santa was on his way to next house.
HO!HO!HO!
4 comments:
Don't know whether to thank you for sparing the morbid details...or have the Armenian Mafia that I know of come after you...for maligning Santa & his elves.
Hope the New Year will help you get over this obsession of death, guns, killing, blood,....
death of innocence...thankfully in its sleep..many a time it is not.
death/guns/killing/blood is real..beyond just the frame of he small glass pane with CNN colors.. the world reeks withit if we break our cocoon...speaking for myself, expressing it in writing is not an overall obsession..but atleast in that plane, i acknowledge, engage, weep with it.
point taken with a dose of very healthy cheer miran. heres to the best *raising glass*
mon ami, u almost leave me speechless. i have trouble expressing, and here u have done just that."but atleast in that plane, i acknowledge, engage, weep with it."
in truth, i have no morbid vision, my society tainted glasses have left me with very little to be settled about. and again, in all honesty (cant believe this, but im actually baring my soul here), i will be the first to walk away from a fight. but that does not mean i will not stand my ground for what i believe in, i will fight to the death.
passion is certainly a driving force.
nice detailing in the beginning and an abrupt end in the end. i loved the way it's written. it was like watching a movie. rock on, ra.
Post a Comment