"Where else would you go when you have an ax to grind?"

Thursday, December 22, 2011

More stories from the War on Christmas

 (graphic and entire concept shamelessly stolen from the brilliant Driftglass post that inspired this whole thing)

Close up: Willard, a mall security guard sips from a large hip flask, the camera pulls back to reveal he is sitting in Santa's chair at the Santa's village display in the mall. It is dark and the mall is closed. The guard is drunk. In the background we hear Bing Crosby singing "White Christmas."
Willard stands slowly and starts to waltz. He trips over a wrapped gift and springs into a martial arts stance. He spin-kicks the head off of an animatronic elf and then karate chops a huge wooden candy cane in half.
In a montage of quick cuts set to the music, Willard runs amok smashing presents, pulling down decorations, humping a statue of Rudolph, finally swinging a Christmas tree like a baseball bat to destroy the whole display as the music swells.
Finally as Bing Crosby sings "and may all your Christmases be white" we see Willard collapse and try to snort the artificial snow off of the damaged side of one of the Santa's Village huts. His nose starts to bleed and he begins to sob.

Voice over by Willard: "Santa's village. Shit. I'm still in Santa's Village.
Every time, I think I'm gonna wake up back in the snow. When I was home after the first shift, it was worse. I'd wake up and there'd be nothing, just a lingering taste of candycane and a hint of pine scent in the air. I hardly said a word to my wife until I said yes to her office Christmas party. When I was here, I wanted to be back in the tree lot. When I was in the tree lot, all I could think about was getting back in here where it was warm.
I've been here a week now, getting softer. Every minute I stay in this mall, flirting with the girls in the elf suits, swilling eggnog, I get weaker. And every minute the elves tinker in Nick's workshop, St. Nick gets stronger.
Everybody always gets what they want for Christmas. I wanted a mission, and because I was on the nice list, they gave me one. Left it under the tree wrapped up in shiny paper with a big red bow"

Go and read the hilarious denoument at Driftglass



democommie said...

Dear Rev. Mr. Paperboy, Sir:

May I be among the first to wish you a Happy Holiday Season (hey, between the Candahoovian paganish and Japanese treegod stuff, who knows WHAT you people do on JESUS birthday!?) here at the Woodshed.

I posted some feelgood nonsense on my own blog, cuz' I just didn't have the malefic energy required to do something like Driftglass did, this year.

My snarkmojo has been at low ebb, ever since I realized that the most hyperbolically ridiculous inventions I might come up with would pale in comparison to the reality that is the modern MurKKKin political scene.

My piece is over at my oft-maligned (and rightly so) polrant.blogspot.com. But, I was over at Southern Beale's blog and the Muse toyed with me for a moment and this popped out.

"The Scroogemudgeon in me applauds your resolve in NOT writing some puff piece about starving orpans being rescued and returned to their long-thought to be dead parents who are a gorgeous, fabulously wealthy GOPower couple who had thought their children lost at sea after their 316′ foot motor yacht ran over some impertinent Greenpeace Zodiac inflatable that was interfering with their guests enjoyment of a peaceful game of Whaleskeet with their custom retooled Bofors 40mm sporting cannons. They had thought the children lost forever after their runabout lurched while crushing the Zodiac and its pitiful group of “little people”. They now wish that they had actually stopped the boat and searched for a few minutes…but they were on their way to Gstaad for the holidays. The children appear healthy and will be reunited with their loving parents as soom as they are thoroughly deloused and reprogrammed. In the event that the delousing or reprogramming fail, they will be euthanized in as humane a matter as is economical.

I’m so glad you didn’t go there, ‘cuz that’s what I’m writing about, if I can remember my blog’s sign-in password or my real name.

Merry Christkwannukahnaliativus to all!"

Maybe there should be a War on Christmas version of the Bulwer-Lytton Contest.

democommie said...

Sorry, I coudn't NOT make another comment, when I saw the WV was "dooki". That is all.