Flash Fiction: Two strangers scenario
“I’ve hated Christmas every sense I caught my wife bonking a rent-a Santa underneath our Christmas tree last year. Since then, things haven’t been so jolly for me, especially as a rent-a- Santa. I don’t know what’s worse; nightmares of St. Nick’s fat harry ass surrounded by candy canes, or community service as the bearded bandit himself. What was I supposed to do, sing jingle bells and sip eggnog while Chris Cringle was giving my wife a four-letter stocking stuffer?”
I would’ve busted him up too. Hey, at least the judge gave you a slap on the wrist.
“Yeah, he’s got one sick since of humor. Now check this out. I caught a taxi to the mall to do my time. Its been a year, I've cooled down, and besides, its only for a couple days dressed as the snow clown. I walk through the door, everyone’s smiling, children are laughing, and families are roaming in herds buying shit they can’t afford. The whole world’s getting everything, but does anybody ever stop to ask ol’ Saint Nick if he’s got anything for Christmas? No Buddy, the Answer is no… So I get a little ticked the more I think about it. The man who works around the clock, strives to give his all, and only asks to be appreciated in return. So how is Santa paid back? By being disrespected that’s how! I ‘m hear tonight because of some brat took Santa’s hard work for granted.
What happened Nick?
Kid Started questioned me about things that didn’t concern him; like how does your sleigh fly without wings, how’s Rudolph, how many elves work for you, and you know, why this and why that. I hate when people ask me too many question, reminds me of my ex-wife, so I let him have it.
What did you say?
“I looked the kid straight in the eye and told him that Santa’s a myth. I’m a bum doing community service instead of jail time for beating the crap out of some prick that banged my wife.
Hahaha, that’s wrong Nick… so how did he take it?
Pretty good compared to his reaction to what Santa got for Christmas.
I’m afraid to ask! What’d you tell him?
I says to him, guess what Santa got for Christmas last year. The kid looks dumb founded, so I say; It was great, Santa got a divorce, a misdemeanor, and the clap from some tramp named Charlene. His pop was all over me like some fat man eating bar-b-q. The police showed up five minutes later. They ended up having to explain why Santa was going to jail, it was pathetic.
Well, Damn that’s a crazy story.
Well life’s not what it’s cracked up to be pal…especially with all these lying, cheating, no good sons of Sam who have nothing but themselves on their mind. Hey, if Santa was real, the guy would have canceled Christmas years ago. No one cares about anyone anymore. Every just takes, and takes, and takes. They never stop to ask if they’re hurting anyone, or if they should consider what someone else would want. Hey pal, do you think a judge is going to give you what you want, a fair chance for what you did? I’ll answer that, a big fat no. Life’s unfair buddy, and nobody ever asks Santa what he wants, no matter how hard he works, it’s all about taking what you want, and forgetting the one who gave it to ya.
You know Nick; I’m in and out of here because I don’t have anything going man. I never had a wife, I never had a job, and I never even had a Christmas tree. I’m a professional thief Nick, so my problems are kinda my own, and I’ll admit I made them. You shouldn’t expect anything else from this world then this..you get what you give. People are heartless Nick, selfish. You should stop giving a damn so much, cause no one really gives a damn about you. Everyone takes Nick; your money, your time, your heart, and even your soul. So the real question is what is Santa willing to take for Christmas, because when you get outta hear it’s you against the world..? Nick..? Nick?
A heavily built policeman walks forward and unlocks the cell. He motions to George as he slides the barred door open and points outside. A woman is standing at the desk behind the guard wiping her eyes. George stands up and pulls off his hat. His face reddens as his bottom lip turns up and quivers. A tear runs down his cheek before he wipes it away. George straightens out his Santa suit and walks through the door as the bells around his ankles chime. He walks toward the woman who is folding a tissue in her hands. Her head rises and she begins to cry loudly.
“Merry Christmas” she blurts histerically.
“Merry Christmas” George sighs.