A Christmas Tragedy

"Santa? Why are you riding the bus?"

"Well, sweetie, it's kind of a long, sad story."

"What happened?" the adorable little girl with blonde pigtails looked up at her hero with big, round eyes. "Where are your reindeer?"

"Well, it all started last week," Santa began. The bus was suddenly silent as everyone appeared to be listening intently. "I was finishing up some last minute repair work on my sleigh. It had been listing slightly to the left when I got my speed up to over 12,000 miles per hour."

"Yeah right," a young man in a black leather jacket and purple, spiked hair scoffed.

"Shut up, don't ruin the child's Christmas," an elderly lady snapped.

Santa ignored them and continued his story. "As I finished welding one of the runners, Rudolph came up behind me. I didn't hear him, and I was startled when his cold nose poked me in the back. I dropped the hot torch on my suit, starting it ablaze. Rudolph, the lovable, loyal reindeer that he is, tried to help me by pushing me down into the snow. His soft fur immediately caught fire. In a panic, before I could stop him, he ran toward the toy factory, howling with pain. I rolled in the snow, extinguishing my suit, and then hurried after him. By the time I caught up, he had dropped to his knees and fallen into a large snowdrift, effectively putting out the flames."

"Is he going to be okay, Santa?" tears rolled down the little girl's cheeks.

"He'll be fine, sweetie. But, it will take him months to heal from the burns. He's resting in his stable up at the North Pole with the best of veterinarians watching over him day and night. But, without him, I have no one to guide my sleigh."

The little girl dried her eyes. "Is there anything I can do, Santa?"

"Yes, sweetie. Just keep believing in him. That's the best cure of all. Never stop believing."

As Santa paused in his storytelling, he looked around. Everyone on the bus had teary eyes. The silence was overwhelming as they all watched and waited for him to finish his sad tale.

"So, old man, why are you riding the bus? How is that going to get presents delivered all over the world?" the punk scoffed.

"I'm not delivering presents from the bus, son," Santa responded, calmly. "I'm heading out to the airport where I've secured use of a private plane for a couple of days. The presents will be delivered. No child will awaken on Christmas morning to disappointment and sadness."

The bus pulled into the airport parking lot and people slowly made their way to the doors. The little girl pulled on his sleeve.

"Santa? I wrote you a letter a few months ago. I asked you for a puppy, a new bike and a Malibu Barbie....Can I change my list?"

"Of course, sweetheart. What would you like for Christmas?"

"I just want Rudolph to get better and I want my Daddy to find a job. We've been on welfare for over a year and Mommy cries at night. I can hear her, even though she tries to muffle it with the pillow."

It was Santa's turn to dry his sparkling blue eyes. "I'll see what I can do, honey. What's your name?"

"Matilda Bledsoe."

"Merry Christmas, Matilda," Santa hugged her and then disappeared through the bus doors, heading off to his private jet. Matilda watched in horror as a luggage cart careened wildly toward the big man.

"Look out, Santa!" she screamed, but he couldn't hear her.

The cart hit him hard, sending him flying toward the bus. The driver slammed on his brakes, but the bus just couldn't stop fast enough.

Matilda sat by Santa's body, crying inconsolably. Christmas was over. Santa was dead. The world began one thousand years of darkness that day.

And Matilda, the good little girl who had won Santa's favor, felt a shadow pass over her. Coldness surrounded her and dried her tears. Her face became still.

No one was paying any attention to the tiny little girl as she picked up a crowbar that had fallen off of the luggage cart and walked up behind the Santa murdering bus driver.

"Merry Christmas, asshole," she whispered as she swung the crowbar high, burying it in the back of the driver's head. "Merry Fucking Christmas!"


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