Friday, July 31, 2015

The edited out prologue for The Hunt for Myth October

Chapter One
I was laying on my bed taking my rooming house's land lady's words to heart after telling her that I was going to be a tad late on my rent when the call came just as I was about to. If it had been a phone I would have simply ignored it, but it was my dagger. The dagger beckoning meant that my boss, Kuan-Ti, head of the Department of Justice for Mythological Entities required me.  That was the down side for being a bounty hunter for the gods: no nine to five hours.   It was more luck than astute observation that I even saw the dagger’s hilt glowing – I was looking for the tissue box that had fallen.
I quickly wiped the lotion off my hand, pulled up my pants and grabbed the dagger out of its sheath.  While some may think that living in a rundown rooming house was not an ideal residence, it was perfect for me; it gave me plenty of sacrifices for answering the calls
See, blood is needed to answer the dagger beckoning and after several months of stabbing myself every time the dagger glowed left me quite light headed from blood loss and with deep lacerations in my calf that just wouldn’t heal.  Now, living in this shit hole, I had other fodder to use, such as the mouse that I had in my sights just to the left of my single bed.  It was munching lazily on the used piece of tissue and never knew what hit it as I drove the dagger blade tip into the top of its skull, securing it to the floor.
“Club,” the bodiless voice of Kuan-Ti boomed from above the seeping mouse skull, “I have an important mission for you – if you’re not too busy, of course.”
The general consensus in the heavens is that though gods and goddesses can be omnipotent; they do not exercise that particular power.  They say that humans are just far to inane to bother witnessing because it would drive them insane from all the whining – and most of the celestial beings weren’t all there to begin with, so far better just to turn a blind eye and ear to the affairs of mortals.  From his tone, I thought that perhaps Kuan-Ti wasn’t one of those who did “the hear no evil” shtick.  I didn’t know if I should consider him a passionate observer of the human conditioner or a fucking pervert.  In the end, I thought best not to get an answer.
“Heck no, boss, I was just wrapping something up,” I said cheerfully, “it’s Christmas Eve after all.”
Kuan-Ti sighed.
He sighed a lot when he spoke to me. I figured it had to be one of those mystic Taoist meditation tricks to keep his mind clear.  There seemed to be a ring of resignation to his voice as he continued. 
“As you are aware, the LAW is that no god or goddess shall directly interfere with the mortal realm – they may influence but they cannot directly influence events.  There is one of our ilk who is about to break this.”
I snorted.
“About to?” I asked into the empty air, “Boss, I go after the ones that have already broken the LAW.  To go after ones that may be or are intending to is sorta Big Brotherish, don’t you think?”  Then I remembered who I was talking to – they all thought in terms of control, so I thought best to amend myself.  “The LAW isn’t broken by intentions; otherwise all of humanity would be locked away, so why would you want me to stop someone whose intentions haven’t become action?”
There was a hint of anger, uncharacteristic for the Chinese God when he answered, “oh I don’t know, I would think that the DESTRUCTION OF THE MAJORITY OF THE MORTAL PLANE WOULD BE A LITTLE BIT MORE IMPORTANT to you than questioning a being that’s been around before your great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great great grandfather could wipe his own buttocks.”
I decided that perhaps it would be wisest to get boss man back on what the job was. Someone had obviously pissed in his bean curd this morning.
“So what nefarious evil doer is out to destroy the very fabric of human existence?  What immortal scum needs to be wiped up?”
“Jesus,” was the response Kuan-Ti gave me.
I scratched my head.  That was a name that I didn’t expect to hear.  Now I had to figure out if he was, for the first time since I started working for the gods, swearing at me or I was to take this literally.  I couldn’t decide, so I decided to ask for clarification.
“Uhm, I’m sorry to correct you sir, uhm, but wouldn’t that be Satan?”
I scratched the stubble of my beard.
“The guy with holes in his wrists, looks like a hippie – that guy?”
“That’d be the one,” Kuan-Ti confirmed.
I wrinkled my nose as if I had been close to the gorilla cage at the zoo and scratched my head again.
“The guy who loves everyone?”
I thought I heard a large boom of thunder, which was odd since it was just snowing lightly outside the window.  Kuan-Ti’s voice boomed again, “Yes, yes, yes!  That’s exactly why I have summoned you!”
“A guy in a dress going around you saying, ‘I love you’ doesn’t sound very much of a crime to me,” I stated.  “Other than the fact that he’s not due to come back here until…”
Kuan-Ti cut me off, “Exactly!  He plans to physically show how much he loves everyone.”  He must have thought that I didn’t know what he was talking about because he added, “Very physically show them.”
“Well,” I said, trying to be empathetic, “It has been over two thousand years; he probably has a lot of…”  How should I put this not to offend the god? “…stuff…inside, you know, feel good sort of things…that he needs to have cum out and share with some people.”
“All people,” Kuan-Ti stressed.
I thought about the ramifications about what Kuan-Ti was telling me and I couldn’t help but quip, “Damn, I feel sorry for that first chick cuz she’s going to die the most wettest stickiest way imaginable.”
Kuan-Ti must have either chosen to ignore it or had not heard it as he made no mention but continued on, “He is a very considerate boy, he is starting off with one that is known for containing large quantities…of stuff…before going off to give his message to the rest of the world.”
This piqued my interest.  “Who would this be?”
“Mary Jessica Christmas Claus,” Kuan-Ti said grimly.  He must have been thinking a few steps ahead of me as he added, “Jesus is planning to sleep with a Mary Claus while her husband is out of town.”
“She has a very communicable STD commonly found in reindeer,” Kuan-Ti explained.  “To the animals, it’s nothing serious, just makes their noses glow red until they get the treatment serum.  In humans, it’s far more dangerous – in males it makes their penis’s develop large bright red puss filled welts and their urine becomes almost like glue when exposed to the air, effectively sealing the outlet.  In time the urethra becomes plugged and then the penis becomes engorged and explodes.”
I couldn’t help but shiver and clutch my groin but Kuan-Ti’s voice didn’t notice and continued.
“In women, it’s far worse.  The inside of their cervix gets the welts and rapidly grow to a size that when the woman has a hard bowel movement and has to bear down the pressure causes the pustules to burst.  The woman then begins to leak a mixture of white puss and blood down her leg; the mixture of the two is so toxic that it eats the skin and muscle tissue down to the bones.  The combination is fatal and there is no current mortal medicine that can stop it.  It’s slow and painful, but even more so for naturalists who like to do cart-wheels.”
My stomach gave a churl - if Jesus contracted this and spread his love throughout the world…
“Your job,” Kuan-Ti said quietly, “Is twofold.  The first is to stop Jesus from beginning his literal translation of his message.”
I nodded, sounded easy enough.
“The second part?”
“You must inject Mrs. Claus with the reindeer cure.”
“I thought you said that there was no cure for mortals?”
“Have you ever seen Mrs. Claus?” Kuan-Ti said defensively.
I admitted that I hadn’t.  Kuan-Ti didn’t say anything else but then I looked down and saw that the last of the mouse’s blood was quickly disappearing – the connection was broken.  There was nothing for me to do but to find my way to the North Pole.
So much for a quiet Christmas Eve.
I grabbed my trench coat and cheap knockoff of a Stetson, a couple of the tissues that were still on the floor and not yet hardened and walked out the door.  As I passed the land lady’s door, she opened it and was about to say something, but I beat her to the punch.  I took the tissues and shoved them into her mouth and with a smile and a wink said, “See, I did exactly what you told me to!”  She was still gagging as I walked out the front door and out into the snowy streets to find myself a dimensional portal….
The portal put me right in the middle of downtown Christmas Town.  To tell you the truth, I was revolted by what I saw.  Since I was a kid I had these preconceptions of what the North Pole and Santa’s workshop looked like - huge candycane street lamps, brightly coloured houses gaily trimmed with holiday ornaments.  The entire town was covered with a covering of pristine snow except for the gently carved ruts in the snow from the sleds and little elves feet going about their daily routine in order to get all the presents made for all the good little girls and boys. I pictured the elves as in bright green and red clothes, bells on the ends of their hats and boot toes, singing gaily and doing a sort of jig as they went about cheerfully putting together the toys.  Santa would be overlooking the entire operation, ho ho hoing and holding his stomach as if he could hardly contain the good will that he had for the entire world.
I didn’t expect the run down one bedroom huts, all bleak and falling apart, the large factory pumping out black smoke and raining down upon the ground black putrid ash. I didn’t expect to see elves stumbling about in dreary ragged clothes, some barely wearing anything at all, behaving like they were either stoned or drunk, fighting, puking or partaking in violent carnal desires in the middle of the black ash covered street with each other and reindeer…I felt like covering my ears and shouting, “Stop the bleating, for the love of all that’s sacred, stop the bleating!”  I took a big breath, choking slightly as my lungs were being coated by some unseen thick poisonous muck and gathered my wits about me once more.
I walked around looking for someone that had some semblance of awareness in their eyes, but every elf I passed seemed oblivious to my presence.  I had to find out where the medical clinic was then find out where I could find Jesus and Mary, which I pretty much knew would be in the same place.  Slowly from the short conversations that I was able to get out of an elf or two between their ingestion of various narcotics and then their return into their stupor, I was able to piece together what the current situation was:
My hopes that there was a clinic about that I could get the serum from was dashed; Amnesty International and Doctors without Borders had attempted to set up some sort of relief for the elves a few years ago from the horrendous sweat shops Santa forced them to work in exchange for gruel and a roof over their heads.  But the two groups were quickly run off. Santa brought in some hired muscle, a guy from the Yukon, by the name of Cornelius.  I had heard of Cornelius in my old job as an RCMP officer, the dude was massive and could kill a man with his pinkie, but he had an ‘extra’ edge to his viciousness – a large carnivorous Bumble beast that he had trained to kill on command.
The skinny was that anyone Cornelius couldn’t snap in two he would simply sic his Bumble on the poor soul and the animal would gorge itself on innards while the victim was still alive to watch his own guts being slurped up.  Amnesty International and Doctors without Borders, after losing almost two hundred of its members, opted to go for other objectives instead – leaving the enslaved elves to wallow in their own misery.
I had lucked out, December 24th was the only day that Santa gave Cornelius and his bumble off and one of the elves had said that they had gone to New Jersey for a one day self career training seminar called “Howse to break a guyzus fawkin’ arm witsout havin’ to let goez of youse own cack”.  I made a mental note to check the seminar board in the office a little more often – it sounded like a great seminar.  Without Santa or Cornelius there to enforce the martial law, the elves took the one day of year to openly numb their pain.  All the other days the elves’ self medicating practices to numb themselves to the torturous conditions was done in the bathroom stalls, under the toy benches, under a pile of snow – all in the hopes that one day they would overdose and end their miserable existence – which apparently happened a lot.
I also had been told that Santa had found a way to counter act the high elfish suicide rate that had begun to affect his labour force: He had built a large breeding bordello and personally picked the female elves that he lusted after and placed them there.  He would then impregnate them, all the while exploring all his sick, twisted, demeaning positions and scenarios that his sexual appetite made him hunger for.  For those male elves that Santa took favour upon, they were given access to the bordello as a reward – as long as they allowed Santa access to their ‘rewards’ first.
But on Christmas Eve, after Santa starts his toy run, Mrs. Claus runs to the bordello and frees all the breeding stock into Christmas Town – where the majority are then raped repeatedly by the sexually repressed male population that haven’t made it into Santa’s good side and are so stoned or drunk that their moral character has given way to their primal urges.  This doesn’t matter to Mrs. Claus – she spends 364 days a year chained to the kitchen making Santa cookies and serving him her own milk.  Apparently he forcibly injects a mixture of Oxytocin and Human placental lactogen that stimulates the endocrine system to force her to lactate constantly.  The side effect is that the mixture also stimulates her testosterone levels to increase as well without Santa quelling them.  So to make up for this lack of attention, she holds a one day ‘cum one cum all’ day with the various beds and toys in the bordello.  She doesn’t do it in her own room as Santa meticulously checks to make sure that there are any traces of ‘external’ stimuli endangering his milk supply.  She is aided in her hormonal lust by Forescin, the head elf in charge of making sure Santa wakes up every day with a smile.  Mrs. Claus uses each room while Forescin controls the waiting room of the customers who only need to take a number and wait their turn.
So I knew where to find Mrs. Claus which would lead me to Jesus, now all that I needed was to find a pusher to get the serum from.  The problem was while the elves were quite ready to bitch and whine, they were not about to give up their sources.  Time was running out, if there wasn’t much of a line for Mrs. Claus’s services, the fate of the world was that of doom and very painful urinations before all human life was extinguished.  I decided that I couldn’t play nice any longer…I needed that serum and I needed it now.
Fortune was smiling upon me; an elf bumped into my leg and crumpled to the ground.  I offered my hand to help the delirious elf up.  He took it and weaved and bobbed unsteadily on his own two feet.  I looked at the elf; the bloodshot eyes, the semi bloody mucus running from his nose;  It looked like he could have had blond hair under his hat, but the day’s frivolity had coated it with a mixture of puke, KY and greasy ash to hide it quite well.
Yeah, another sweatshop crack-head.
“Shank’s mate,” the elf slurred out.  “I’m Hermey.”  He then proceeded to look through his dishevelled coat pockets for something – a card, I found out as he handed it to me.  “I’m notsh only a toy maker butsh I’m ashlo the dentist here.”  He dug into his pockets again and pulled out a pair of rusted pliers.  “To show my appreciation I’d be happy to pull out a toosh for you…or…” he leaned luridly close to my crotch, “…for the price of some rock, I’ll gladly pull something else for you.”
I brought my knee up and connected with Hermey’s chin.
His head snapped up and back, throwing the rest of his body back into the ashen ground.
To accentuate my seriousness, I brought the heel of my boot down onto his nose, breaking it.
As his nose sprayed the ground around him, Hermey brought his hands to his nose causing the jets of blood to make a pretty red design on the rotting wood of the house beside us.
“Holy fuck! You’re fucking nuts!” Hermey screamed as he got to his knees.
Good, I thought to myself, I managed to break the elf out of his self imposed delirium and get him to focus on the here and now.  I grabbed him by the scruff of his tattered jacket and lifted him up to my eye level – not that hard of a feat considering that like most junkies, he was nothing but diseased bone and skin.  I asked him where I could find someone with the serum that I required.  He answered and I tossed him into the wall, which in its rotted condition gave way and Hermey ended up going through it.
Hermey ended up on a bed just beside two elves partaking in some sexual release – I was quickly forgotten as like a calf to a teat, Hermey, with the expectation of being rewarded afterward, began working towards earning enough for some more artificial happiness.
I began to walk a block up the dingy street to an alley that Hermey had so kindly informed me that I could procure a vial of the serum that I required.  The dealer’s name was Rudy Hermey had told me, a no good piece of scum, but always had the best shit in Christmas Town.  Now all I had to do was convince the dealer that he was going to give me what I wanted, whether he wanted to or not.
I found Rudy at the alley.  I was always amazed that wherever I went in this crazy world, the lowest of the low always looked the same.  The studded leather halter with the diamond studded bells, the gold capped antlers, the dark sunglasses and that disgusting smile with high end alfalfa sprouts stuck in between; the riches taken from the weak – yeah, he was a friggin’ pusher alright.  The reindeer smelt heavily of ‘AXE’, his brown fur coat shiny from bathing in milk.  He saw me coming and casually lifted up his hoof and took a drag off his cigarette as I stopped a mere foot in front of him.
A smirk crossed his speckled snout as he politely said, “Fine day for a stroll, isn’t it, officer?”
“What makes you think I’m a cop?” I asked.
Rudy blew a lungful of smoke out his nostrils at me and flashed another smile, “Cheap suit, no fashion sense and you smell of pickled eggs and stale draft.”  He stomped the cigarette out into the black snow and then brought his four point buck face back to my eye level.  “Only elves or cops can’t afford to look good.”
I grabbed the reindeer by the throat and forced his head down between my legs.  I let loose a violent burst of the by product of my pickled egg, pepperoni and broccoli omelette I had for breakfast – he dropped to the ground and started rolling, violently scraping his hooves against his bright red nose and gagging.
I wondered if Hermey had steered me wrong – a red nose was the reindeer sign of the STD.  If this one was dealing the shit, why would he use it on himself?  Then I realized the answer to my own question – he was an astute business deer; he made sure he controlled both supply and demand.  I had planned to actually haggle with Rudy to get the serum, but monopolies of any kind make the bile get stuck up in my craw.
I brought my fist down hard onto his shoulder, hearing the satisfying snap of bone.  He gave out a mournful, pathetic bray that I quickly silenced with a heel coming down and crushing into his right eye socket.
Rudy was a lot more polite after that and told me where to find the serum, how to use it and how much to use it and when to use it.  A very accommodating Rangifer tarandus once, like most animals, you have established who the bitch in the situation is and whose face is getting spritzed.
This wasn’t going to be as easy as I thought. I would have to ingest the serum orally and wait five minutes until the serum quickly made its way through the stomach wall, through the blood stream and into the ejaculate.  It would combine with the ejaculate and form a sort of a hyper-active white cell that would directly attack the virus located on the outside of the cervical walls.
The catch?
The serum was only good for ten minutes and then the sperm would ingest it and I only had one shot – my own immune system would immediately attack another dose as an invader and kill its effectiveness before it even reached my scrotum.
 Don’t they make anything fucking easy these days?
I stuck the serum vial into my coat pocket, hiked up my collar and walked back up the alley leaving Rudy to contemplate whether it was a couple of his teeth or his balls that were blocking his throat passage.  I got out to the street looked around and spotted the bordello’s outline through the thick smog.  I pulled my hat down a touch over my forehead to stop the ash from burning my skin better and headed off…From the state of disrepair of Christmas Town I expected the bordello to be much the same, run down and falling apart.
I was quite surprised to see that in fact it looked like a well kept two story southern plantation manor, complete with a wrap around veranda that was shielded from the weather as it was covered with thick windows stencilled with various sexual positions.  I opened the door and stepped into the sealed veranda and was met by a normal sized woman standing behind a Dais.
She said hello and asked me if I had an appointment or I was a walk in.  I told her I was a walk in and she picked up a phone that was on the dais and phoned it to someone inside the main doors.  She smiled and told me that it would be a couple of minutes and then she would escort me into the foyer.
I said that was fine and she smiled and asked if I would like a drink while I was waiting, I said I was fine, thank you very much.  She introduced herself as Twilight and told me that if I needed anything to just ask and she’d be happy to try to accommodate me.   I wasn’t really paying much attention instead I was looking at all the erotic paintings, mostly of some obese man with a great big red beard doing all sorts of things to various northern creatures.  Over the main doors I noticed the sign - it read “Santa’s Minxes”.
I thought that was an odd name for a brothel in the middle of the frozen north and the look on my face must have read that fact out like a book to the hostess.
She supplied the information, “Santa had a bad scare back in 1758 in Spain with pubic lice – he insists that all his employees are silky smooth.”
“Oh,” I said.  It made sense when I looked at it that way.  The hostess smiled at me and I smiled back. What a looker I thought.
She had bright long crimson hair, flawless ebony skin, with a close to sheer see through long blouse tied at the waist.  Her bazoombas were like coconuts – you know the kind you just want to give a couple of taps to hear the milk inside slush around and a caboose that looked like it could squeeze a steel girder into tin foil is she wanted to.  She moved away from behind the dais and motioned me to follow her.  I noticed that something wasn’t quite right about this chick with the killer legs, the fabric in her lower front seemed to be sticking out a little – like one of those old dames you see who stand up in front of you all excited at the bingo hall to yell out “Bingo” and you can just tell that they were wearing “Depends” for a good reason.  I decided that it be best if I just thought it was the cold weather and she had a really big goose bump.
Twilight opened the main doors and led me into a large reception area, holiday music lazily played and two giant crystal chandeliers lit by tea lights, giving the room just enough light to see but not accurately describe anything in a line up, hung from the massive open roof.  There were two plush couches and a large Indian rug in the middle of the room.  Both couches had people on it.  The first had a four or five elves, the second had a large snowman with a top hat, a bright red muffler, two eyes made of coal and a corn cob pipe and a carrot for a nose on one side talking to some blonde young lady and on the other side of the couch was the target of the first part of my mission, Jesus.
Twilight put a little tag into my hand, it read, “73” and told me that when that number was called I was to go to the huge set of doors that I took led to the staircase that led up the second level and Mrs. Claus.  She told me that my host for beyond the doors was the roly poly looking elf with the goatee standing in front of the doors by the name of Forescin.  I was about to ask Twilight how long it would be but I was distracted by the loud argument by the snowman and the young lady.
“Oh come on! I didn’t bring you all the way to the North Pole to sit around,” the young lady whined, “Let’s go outside and I’ll ride down the big ol’ hill on your back.” 
“Screw off, Karen!” the snowman said with a scowl, “Why don’t you ask that bastard Hinkle if you can ride him?  He’d like that the fucking perv…”
“Listen the only butt I want is Claus’s!” the snowman proclaimed even louder, “It’s my turn to do some bloody riding!  Now go wait outside or get some tits, will ya!”
With that the young lady burst into tears and ran past me and out to the veranda and sat down to cry some more.
The commotion was enough for Jesus to look around and notice I was there, and try to sink further into the couch in an attempt to become invisible.  Jesus worked in the same celestial office building as I did – I think he hadn’t expected to be seen here – prematurely so to speak.  I was about to speak to him when the music changed from “Jingle Bells” to another old song.  I heard Twilight begin to go “Eeerrrrrgggggghhhhhh”; I recognized the song, it was the old Christmas standard, “The Christmas Song (Chestnuts roasting on an open fire)”.  It was then I noticed that my initial thought of Twilight having an extremely agitated goose bump in the middle of her groin was erroneous – what was trembling within those flimsy clothes was something definitely more sinister….
“Turn that shit off!” Twilight screamed at the ceiling, “Turn it off right now or I’m going to come up there and kick your little asses!”  Twilight’s face was red with rage, her body trembled uncontrollably until the music stopped and was replaced by Elton John’s “The bitch is back”.
I thought I should bring back the light atmosphere of the room by quipping, “Yeah, I know how you feel – I get that way when I hear Celine Dion.”
Twilight’s eyes became like slits as he/she growled out, “It’s all that fucker Mel…” She spat a large snot-filled blob onto the floor between us, “…Torme’s fault.”
“How so,” I inquired.
“I like to travel,” Twilight continued, “And I was in New York in ’46 and I heard this really grooving cat crooning out a great tune.  I decided that I had to meet the hep cat that knew how to craft a song.  See, I thought it would be nifty to have a song that was all about me…” Twilight opened he/her’s flimsy almost see through kimono to show all his/her assets and gave a wicked smile, “…and all my assets.”
Sounded extremely vain to me, but then again, Twilight was at least partly a chick, and chicks dug that sort of thing, so it made sense to me.  What I couldn’t understand was what this had to do with “The Christmas Song”.  I was about to ask when Twilight continued on.
“So I find his place and get up to his door.  He answers, and…” Twilight gave her lips a long slow lick, as if lost in a memory, which I would have found very sexy if he/she hadn’t slowly been stroking his/her dick at the same time.  He/she quickly came back to the present though and a snarl once again replaced the winsome look that was on that face only a second before.  “I asked him to write a song to me for me.  He said he would.  He said that he wanted me to tell him what I’d like said in the song.  So I told him.”
I was confused; how could anyone think that “The Christmas Song” was about a Hermaphrodite on vacation from the North Pole?  Once again Twilight supplied the answer for me.
“You know what Mel Torme’s biggest secret was?” She asked.
“Other than he wrote a torch song for a he-she?”
Twilight ignored my answer and gave her/his own.  “The fucker was hard of hearing!  Deaf as the Pope on world reality…he took everything I said and twisted it into something vile and sugary instead of hot and nasty,” Twilight finished with a pout and to stress the fact, crossed his/her arms in front of her.
I wanted to tell her to cross his/her legs too because his/her dick was bobbing around dangerously close to my trench coat – which normally wouldn’t bother me but one button was cracked and I didn’t want to have a physical reminder of my conversation with Twilight hanging off my jacket when I left…plus Twilight was a little bit leaky, the only stains that I wanted on me were my own.  I suddenly realized that cylinder like object over twelve inches really made me feel rather small.
Seconds passed without another word from Twilight.  I had to know what the truth about “The Christmas Song” was.  I asked.  Twilight gave a large hurumph and then put her hands to her hips. It was the smartest thing I could have said; it caused her mind to wander about more exciting things and as a result the spitting cobra started to disappear back into its own hood.  I momentarily considered asking Twilight if Santa had ever attached a mop head to her schlong and told to walk around the bordello, but thought better of it.
“First off he screwed up the title and sub-title,” Twilight began.  “It was supposed to be ‘The Twilight song’.”
I nodded empathically, “And the sub title?”
“So Mel goes, ‘so little la…so...Twilight.  I need a hook, something to make the listeners latch onto.  What’s your angle?  What will make them sit up and listen?’
I thought for a moment and I got undressed and said to Mel, ‘Chest, nuts, hosting to the highest buyer’…but does he get that right? NO!
He writes down ‘chestnuts roasting on an open fire’!”
I nodded once again, “Yes, I can see why you’re a little angry about that…”
Twilight, however, mistook my insincere interest as a cue to continue
 “That’s just the beginning of it!  ‘Jack Frost nipping at your nose’ my ass!  It was supposed to be ‘jacking off while I’m sipping on your hose’…what the fuck was Mel thinking?”
“I see….”
Not really but I was busy trying to think of a way to get the hell away from the crazy he/she because Twilight’s anger, while great for making Mr./ms. Happy quite floppy, sparing me any eye damage of any sort, now was endangering the cleanliness of my boots.
“It’s supposed to be ‘I’ve been spread so many times, many ways’ not ‘said’!” twilight said with a flare of red sparking in her pupils.  “And that line ‘Everybody knows a turkey and some mistletoe’…Shit, it’s supposed to be ‘everybody blow my cock and lick my camel toe’…bloody deaf son of a…”
“Hey buddy!  I think you’re next!” I heard a muffled deep voice shout from the couch – it was the snowman, saving my ass!  I mouthed out ‘thank you’ to the solid water mystically congealed together and apologized to Twilight and suggested that perhaps he/she could tell me more after I had blown a couple of loads into the old broad and walked over to the couch and sat down between Jesus and the snowman.
The snowman leaned over and whispered, “Watch out for that one.”  He was gesturing with his head over to Twilight.
I nodded affirmation that I had already gotten that idea and asked why.
“Her nickname around here is Hep T – once she gets her claws in a mortal they can’t get rid of her until they’re six feet under or she’s drained the life out of them, and damn do they wish either way would come quick!”
“Serving 68, now serving 68!” Forescin shouted out.
The snow man covered one of his charcoal eyes as if to give a wink and said, “Well, that’s me!”  He stuck his corn cob pipe back into his face and began to waddle away.
“Have a good one!” I said to his back.
He turned back around and chuckled, “Oh, I will, most assuredly, I will.”  He brushed off a little of the snow off the largest of his three snowballed frame, showing two crystal blue smaller sized snow balls.  “These aren’t like this because I’m cold!”  Then he brushed the snow back over and continued on his way towards Forescin.
“So…” I said as I turned to my primary target, “What’s up?”
Jesus’ eyes went wide, his cheeks went red and he firmly clenched his legs tight while he tried to casually position his hands over his lap.  With a shaky voice he replied, “Oh nothing much.”
I heard Twilight mutter a little louder than necessary, “Now ain’t that the gospel truth.”
I was going to tell her/him to shut up, but the even brighter red that was beginning to show underneath the poor messiah’s beard told me that it would further embarrass him.
Jesus cleared his throat, and with a more sedate tone than what his squirming buttocks on the couch said he was and said, “What brings you here?”
“Same thing as you I suspect,” I said coyly.
Jesus hung his head down even lower and softly hissed, “You’re a terrible liar.”  He lifted his head back up and looked me square in the peepers.  “So if you’re here, that means everybody...” his eyes shot up to the ceiling momentarily then settled back on me, “up there is aware then.”
I gave a nod and said, “Yep, that’s pretty much it.”
“This is so embarrassing,” Jesus said, dropping his head once more.
I thought I should be doing the consoling thing that the goddess of mercy, Guanyin, tried to force down my throat after I had gotten into a fist/hoof fight with a centaur over the last cheese covered nacho at the last department mixer we had.  I put my arm around Jesus’ shoulder and gave it a gentle shake and said, “Look, at least you’re going to boink a piece of tail.  Anything or anyone else and those white collared assholes will go around saying, ‘see, we were just doing what the good lord would do…”
Jesus turned to me again and slowly said, “How is it that Dad hasn’t smited you yet?”
I shrugged my shoulders, “Too busy making statues bleed out of their vaginas, perhaps.  But that’s not important right now, is it?”
Jesus gave a resigned sigh and said, “What is important right now?”
I removed my arm from around his shoulder and was about to explain the situation to Jesus I looked around and saw a pencil thin six foot icicle exiting from the door to the boudoirs of Mrs. Claus, gliding zig zaggedly towards to the exit outside and the sobbing young lady sitting in the black ash bank.  The discussion wasn’t important now – it was time for action.
Forescin yelled out, “69, serving 69!”
I reached inside my trench coat to my inner pocket and pulled two railway spikes that I keep on my person just in case I run into a menstruating Hillary Clinton robot that also has diarrhoea…again.  Thinking about it, it could have been the real Hillary, but who can tell? But anyways….
I rammed a spike into each of the holes of Jesus’ wrists, firmly securing their ends into the wooden frame of the couch.  The force of the spikes pulling him downward made Jesus double over and land ass first on the shag carpet with his arms being pulled backwards…but the spikes held him fast to the couch.
“Aw, man!  Not again,” Jesus whined.
I grabbed the ticket stub from the restrained messiah’s hand and said, “Thank you, Jesus.”
“I’m going telling my father on you,” Jesus threatened as I walked toward Forescin holding Jesus’ ticket out.  Part one of my mission was accomplished, now I had to the hardest part of the mission to do with my hardest part….
Forescin looked at the ticket, then over to the prone and impaled Jesus who was now getting bitch slapped by Twilight who had straddled him with her/his penis; I could be wrong but I could have sworn he was enjoying it with his weak protest of “Oh please stop…stop…a little lower and a little slower…oh please stop.”
 I wondered if I should have pulled down his robe from his mid-stomach area before I grabbed the ticket, but the way Twilight’s hips were gyrating it was probably for the best that I hadn’t. I gave Forescin a small shrug of my shoulders and a small smile.  He rolled his eyes and motioned for me to follow him through the doorway.

Chapter Two

Through the doors was a world that was the opposite that the reception room portrayed of comfort and relaxation.  The walls were covered with various implements of sexual play, clothing for role playing in extra large and extra small sizes, leather straps of different sizes and textures. The brightness of the reception area had been replaced by dim red lights.  Forescin avoided using the hand rails as we made our way up the two storey staircase, something after having to pull my hand forcibly off the rails I should have done myself.
We reached to landing and he told me to sit in a single wooden chair just off to the left of the staircase.  I looked around and saw that there were 7 rooms with a different icon and beside every door was a sink.  The icons were interesting - one was the outline of a dog; the second door was adorned with an ocean wave; the third was the outline of a pair of handcuffs; a shadow that looked like a pencil sharpener; the fifth looked like two bears, the sixth a happy face beside a sad face and the seventh had a picture of the planet Uranus.  I couldn’t help but think to myself that I really wanted door number two because I had a feeling that door numbers five and seven wouldn’t be Mrs. Claus but Twilight.
He told me that he would escort me to Mrs. Claus in a moment, but he first had to make sure his mistress was prepared.  I had to admit that sounded quite professionally and sighed a relief when he opened and entered door number one.  I became a little nervous about the loud whooshing sound that was emanating from room one for five minutes and felt my nerves start to fire off when Forescin came out carrying a wet vac and a hair dryer.
“Madame will see you now,” Forescin said as he dumped out the wet vac contents into the sink beside the door.
I got up and weak kneed slowly entered door number one.  I was expecting something horrible, after all, if Santa didn’t want her and Kuan-Ti didn’t go into detail…..but the room was comfortably large – there a small table with two chairs in one corner, a frosted oriel window that over looked a pond that must have been used for ice skating at one time.  There was a roaring fire in the fireplace that was on the opposite wall and directly in the middle of the candlelit room was a large king size bed.  It was on the bed that immediately drew my interest.
Fuck me, I thought to myself as my eye’s beheld such a sight.  I don’t know what Kuan-Ti’s standards were, but I had to say it one more time: fuck me!
Mary Jessica Christmas-Claus didn’t look like the image that I grew up having of an old broad with the hips of a Buick Skylark and her white hair pulled up into a such tight bun that you just knew it had to be pulling all her loose skin up as well and that the bun was the only reason her tits weren’t hitting the floor.
Nope, Mary looked like young woman of 24, with an hourglass figure. She had long satiny red hair that flowed down to her lower back, beautifully shaped C cup breasts, and a small curvy waist.  She was slick and gleaming with moisture – though I couldn’t discern whether she had a quick shower, sweat from serving 68 other cocks or most of the snowman. I could see why Santa would boast and say, “Mary Christmas, everyone”!  I’d shout it out too if I had this at home but I just couldn’t figure out why he’d be wasting his time plowing elfish deserts when he could be trimming his tree with her glowing pink star in her dense bush.  The only thing that came to mind was that the jolly old elf’s waist girth was in conflict with his manly one.
Mary was sitting half way up, using her lower arms to prop her up and accentuate her large puffed areoles on the tip of her supple breasts.  She gave a smile and said, “I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t get dressed.”
I told her that it was quite alright, which made her smile even more as she explained that some of the callers liked to undress her.  She told me to get undressed and then patted her hand on the edge of the bed to sit beside her.
I did, quickly padding my trench coat pocket to make sure that the vial was still there before setting it down beside the king sized deep green satin sheeted bed.
Mary trailed her fingertips lazily along my calf, the almost predatory look in her deep green eyes had faded and uncertainty seemed to replace the devouring attitude she emanated when I first opened the door.  I didn’t understand the change and asked her why.
She gave a shy laugh and explained, “The men, elves, snowmen, reindeer, rabbits, and penguins just straight out mount me.” Her fingers began to play in my mass of pubic hair making my cock give a jump and start to awaken.  “No one has ever actually just sat down.”
I moved a stray lock of red hair that had gone over her right eye and told her that I wasn’t that swift; I needed to survey the lay of the land so I could find the most fertile spots to put my plow into.
She giggled and sat up and swung her legs off the bed to sit beside me.  She wrapped her fingers around my now stiff member and without taking her eyes off the foreskin making my cock tip appear and disappear asked if I wouldn’t mind taking it slow.
I responded by lifting her head up with my hand gently and softly kissing her on her lips.
Mary didn’t react or pull away from my personal advance like I had expected her to, after all, wasn’t she just all about the sex?  A kiss wasn’t necessary, and could be construed as something personal. I slid my tongue between her lips.  She put up no struggle, but instead sucked on my lips as her own tongue began to explore my mouth.  Mary pulled back from our lips’ dance and lowered her head down to my lap.
She gave my thigh a kiss, then another and I couldn’t help but let out a low groan as she slowly began to lick the tip of my cock in slow deliberate circles. I had to put my hands behind me to brace myself from the sensations that shot up from my throbbing shaft as Mary began to trace the veins of my cock, up and down with her tongue.  My groan became more pronounced when she took the entire length of my cock into her mouth, sucking on it hard as she slid the middle finger of one of her hands back and forth across the seam of my balls and ass.  Every time she would take my cock out of her hot mouth, she would quickly turn her head to see my reaction and give my right nipple a quick kiss before enveloping my tip again, each time increasing the speed and suction of her mouth.
I could feel the desire quickly amassing deep within me, ready to boil and erupt.  I wanted her to taste me, to drink me, but I knew that my own needs were not the ones to be met yet.  The next time she took her delicious lips away from my wanting manhood, I drew her head up and kissed her lips thick with my taste on them.  I gently removed her hand from stroking my hardness and knelt down on the floor beside her.
I started to kiss her neck, biting the delicate flesh and fondling her plush breasts, one after the other with my left hand as my right gently traced the outline of her side down to waist.  Mary gave a sharp intake of breath as I rolled her nipples between my fingers and sucked on her neck.
I gave her another deep kiss and then I moved to her left breast, swirling and suckling it with my lips.  I traced it with my tongue and then did the same with her right breast, in response; Mary arched her bark to force her nipple even deeper into my mouth.
Gingerly I descended down from her breasts to her navel, kissing and nibbling, until I came to her thick pubic mound over her pussy. I could feel her becoming wetter and wetter from the slickness that started to collect on my chin as I started to lick her clit, pressing it hard with my mouth, and even sucking on it- at first gently, and then harder and faster
She gasped as I used my open mouth and tongue to excite her clit, and then reached up to caress her slit with his fingers. I continued sucking and licking her, I slid in a finger, and then two, and began moving them in and out of her.
Mary threw her head back and moaned loudly, her inner thighs began to tremble against my cheeks, encouraging me to suck harder on her clit, increasing the pumping of my fingers as well.
Mary’s hands felt rough on the back of my head as she forced my face harder against her moistness.  She moaned, “Oh fuck, yes…yes…fuck….”  She began to grind herself into me and I felt the muscles inside her wetness tighten and twitch against my fingers then release a flood around them.  As I began to lap up her juices as they ran down her leg, Mary gently pushed me back onto my ass to break the connection.
I looked at her and her cheeks reddened.  I asked her why.
“I was wondering if I should ask you a favor,” she said in a quiet shy voice.
I stood up and stood between her legs, the tip of my hard shaft rubbing in between her sweaty slick breasts.  I brushed the back of my hand lightly against her cheek and to her ear and told her that at this point I wanted her so much I’d do anything to feel me in her.
She began to move her chest slowly against my cock tip as she started to state her favor.
“Year after year, millions of children sit on my husband’s lap and tell them their deepest, most fondest of wishes…”  She placed her hands on the top of my shaft, pushing it deeper into her bosom, her fleshy breasts surrounding it with their warmth and hot sweat.  “…I want to sit on your lap…I want to feel your cock in me as I tell you all I want for Christmas.”
I stepped away from her, my cock resisting it’s fleshy docking bay.  I turned and walked over to the table and chairs.  I grabbed the one that looked the most comfortable and padded and brought if over to beside the bed.  I sat down and looked at Mary and said, “Well, well, well, Mrs. Claus…” My pulsating shaft was almost sticking straight up, ready for her.  I tapped my lap with my hands a couple of times.  “…let’s just see how much of a good girl you really are.”
There was a rap on the door and without waiting for a response, this six foot green furred…thing walked in, a snarl on its shovel like flattened face.  It walked up to the bottom of the bed, sat down and sneered at Mary and I on the chair, then folded its skinny arms.  I’m sure that if I could see its fingers through the matted fur, he’d be flipping me the bird.
Mary gave me a smile and told me that it was a good friend of hers who had been living in a mountain high above a town full of Whatzes and over the years had become sexually confused by what on a Whatz should turn him on and what on a Whatz shouldn’t.  She asked if I minded it watching us so that it could get a look at what it should be looking for when it was peeking through the Whatzes windows so it could have a general idea which Whatz was who and Whatz what was a twat..z.
I gave the spindly limbed, beer bellied wanna be “Trollz” doll a close quick inspection, there seemed nothing off about him to me; while he did have a sneer seemingly paralyzed to his face, I couldn’t even tell if it was packing a pecker or carrying a box waiting to be pried open.  I said no problem and Mary thanked me and I gave the thing a wink and continued on with tasting what could be described as the best Christmas cookie that I had ever tasted.
Mary beamed as she stood up and walked the three steps to where I was waiting on the chair.  She sat down on my lap, my cock’s underside resting against her plush mound and kissed me lightly on the lips as she wrapped her arms around my neck.  The chair had support struts half way up its legs and she put her feet on them.
“So,” I said as I slid my hands up and down from the bottom of her arms down to her waist, “What do you want for Christmas?”
Mary nibbled on my ear as her breasts warmed my neck and whispered, “What I want…” her tongue traced the outline of my ear, “…is to have your cock fuck my pussy hard…to make me remember the Mary Christmas of so long ago.”  She ended her wish with another kiss on my lips and then grabbed her right breast and rubbed her nipple along my bottom lip.
I grabbed my cock and rubbed it against her clit, slowly working side to side, then faster.  Mary moaned from the combination of my suckling and the pressure of my shaft on her succulent pussy lips. Then, suddenly, she lifted her hips up and forcefully slammed the entire length of my hard seven inches into her tight, hot pussy.  I moved my hands down to the bottom of her ass, lifting her almost entirely off my member and then let her drop, thrusting upward at the same time. I began to thrust against her hips, driving my cock deep into Mary’s wanting sex.  She lifted her hips up to meet my thrusts, eagerly taking me in.
“Oh…fuck, yes, fuck me hard,” Mary commanded as I my cock pumped her furiously as my lips and tongue went back and forth between her hard puffed nipples.
My concentration was broken momentarily by the sound of scraping wood against wood.  I looked to the left of Mary’s shoulder and saw the green furred man bringing over a chair for himself; I thought he was going to be rude and just have his face close to our quickly gyrating loins, but instead he got up and stood up on it, putting his crotch face level with us.
Mary giggled and reached a hand up and started to pet the fur in front of her.  From within the thick matted bulk a green tinged cock with a purple tip began to appear. With every pet of the fur, the green cock grew until it was a hard thick six inch throbbing piece of flesh.
Mary smiled and said with a hint of irony in her voice, “It appears you have grown three times your size on this day” and began to roll her tongue around the purple tip of the green cock.
I could hear the supports of the chair creaking wildly from our three way sex play.  I couldn’t stop myself from thrusting harder, rougher into her as I watched her suck that cock while I flicked her nipples with my tongue.  I felt how much she was enjoying herself from the volume of warm fluid that was beginning to roll down my own thighs.
I thought I would have more control over my excitement with a green cock so close to my face, but the mixture of the raw sexual aromas cascading my nostrils of Mary’s cum, the green man’s pre-cum that glistened along with Mary’s saliva and my own arousal was driving me to thrust into Mary even harder.  I had to act now or I would lose my opportunity.  I lifted and dropped her ass cheeks in rhythm with her fluid oral stroking of the other’s thick cock, rocking my own cock in her to counter – she must have licked it as her moans escaped from the tight seal that she formed.  I had to do something before I couldn’t hold back the churning load building in my sac.
The moment that Mary’s mouth popped off the green man’s cock, I fluidly lifted her by the ass and onto the edge of the bed.  Without giving her time to grab my waist and pull my cock back into her wanting pussy, I dropped my body down and brought my lips to her clit.  Mary gave a lustful moan and called the green man to bring his cock to her and he obeyed by running and straddling her face so that his balls were touching her forehead.  I slid two fingers between her soft pussy lips and pumped in and out to the motion of her tongue lapping the underside of the green cock above her mouth and while my mouth nipped and sucked on her clit, my left hand felt for my trench coat and the vial of the serum.
I managed to find it and bring it out.  With one hand I popped the vial’s plastic top off and with the pretence of getting into a better position, I quickly drank back the vile tasting elixir.  I leaned back and put the vial back in my trench coat pocket and hit the button on the other item that I had brought with me: a timer set to countdown from five minutes. As I got ready to reposition myself I couldn’t help but be memorized by the way Mary’s breasts had almost a wave like motion, moving with the force of my fingers sliding back and forth inside her.  Mr. Green had bent over slightly to let Mary take his pulsating purple tip in and out of mouth.
I took my fingers out of her sopping pussy and stood up off my knees.  I took hold of my shaft and guided it to outline her sex, leaving a trail of pre-cum wherever I put it.  I then began to rub my pulsating tip just inside her juicy pussy lips. I then guided it up and did little semi circles around her puffed and engorged clit.
Mary must have felt it because she stopped sucking on the green cock and looked at me and whispered, “Pleeeeeeassssee, oh yes, please put it in!  Fuck me more, fuck me, baby!”
I smiled as I placed her heels on my shoulders and pushed my cock into her again.  I couldn’t stop myself but began to roughly thrust into her, my balls slapping loudly against her ass cheeks. 
Mary cried out as I continued to fuck her, pulling on her hips to bring her closer with each thrust, to drive deeper and deeper into her. Her vaginal muscles contracted hard against my cock, the pressure against my shaft heightening my desire to spray all I could deep into her, make her cum through my own.
Mary removed her mouth from the green furred man’s cock, and locked her eyes with me and pleaded hungrily, “Ooooohhhhh, I’m cumming!  Uuuuhh, I want you to come with me, baby, cum hard inside me, baby, cum baby cum!”
I slammed against her harder and faster. The front of my thighs hitting the side of the bed frame violently.  The pain recoiled up my spine, spurning me on to ensure that Mary thought of me when she thought of the season for giving.  She had already gone back to running her tongue along the thick green skinned cock and finger fucking the loudly moaning creature’s asshole.  I wanted to cum and cum hard, to give Mary what she wanted – I could feel her clit being tickled by my pubic hair as I ground deep into her.
The timer that I had clicked on finally began to beep, giving me the signal I needed.
I grabbed Mary by the heels and spread them as wide as they could go and thrust even harder pushing her underneath the creature’s buttocks.  I groaned loudly as I began to cum, shooting my imbued semen into her, filling her, the sheer volume over sated her pussy’s cup and spilling out over her ass cheeks.
The burning sensation of the mixture of the serum and cum jettisoning itself out of me into Mary was so intense that it felt like my throat had collapsed into itself. I struggled for breath while growling in animalistic delight.
Mary’s legs trembled and rolled with her own orgasm, her hands gripping my clenched ass cheeks even tighter, pulling me deep into her.
It felt like hours before the I stopped shooting deep into her though I knew it was only mere seconds, my mind was reeling with the thoughts of never pulling out of her ever again, just keeping my cock buried for all time in her warmth.  It didn’t even occur to me to give myself a pat on the back for successfully completing part two of the mission.
The green furred creature yelped pleasurably as Mary’s mouth began sliding along his shaft, picking up speed with every forward movement down.
But the mission quickly came to mind when I head heavy footfalls and a deep voice shouting, “What the Sam Hill!  I have to come back early to find my bloody passport so Homeland Security will let me enter American airspace without shooting me down and all hell breaks loose?  Where the hell are my relaxers?  Why isn’t my wife in the bloody kitchen?  WHAT THE FUCK IS SHE DOING USING MY FUCK SPOT FOR HER OWN PURPOSES!!!”
The green furred fellow panicked, pulling his cock from Mary’s mouth and ran straight for the window, quickly opening it up and jumping out head first – unfortunately forgetting that there was one fact of life: anything that is warm and moist being placed anything steel that’s been exposed really icy wind and cold temperatures– in this case the window frame – will become stuck.  There were a second that I thought that perhaps the weight of the tall spry fellow would simply peel the outer skin of the purple tip that seemed glued to the sill, but the sheer moistness of his dick held him fast.  All that could be seen was this quivering Purple Heart shaped piece of flesh sticking up from the bottom of the sill.  There must have been ice on the tiny ledge of the sill as the poor asshole couldn’t get a grip with either his heels or his hands.  He was quite a stout fellow though; all I heard was a weak, “Help” from the window.
Oh fuck...that was my first thought.
My second was how was I going to stop the jolly elf from breaking parts of my body that I had grown rather attached to – mainly the one that was currently still being held fast within his wife.
Mary wasn’t letting go, still lost in her own pleasure while I tried to reach for my trench coat and my wallet.  Santa was a mythical entity, wasn’t he?  Maybe if I showed him my Judiciary council Identification and told him that this was part of an official administrative measure…
As it was, Mary only released me once Santa had kicked the door in.  He looked angry, with Forescin beside him trying to pull on his arm as if to take him out of the room.
I braced myself for a good old fashioned ass kicking, this one would especially hurt since I couldn’t help but notice that Santa had the familiar ridge that designated steel toes lining his boots.  I stood up and jumped beside the bed, a mixture of neutralized puss, my fluids and Mary’s fluids dripped to the floor from my crotch and tensed every muscle in my body save one - it was on its way to the exact opposite.  I waited for the barrage of mittened fists to start pummelling my body.  Forescin must have been thinking the same thing because he hurried between me and the slowly approaching Santa.
Santa’s eyes kept on going back and forth between me and his wife who was still in a swoon, sticking her fingers in herself and pulling them out to lick the reddish white paste off while humming dreamily, “I’m dreaming of a white Christmas.”
We were less than a foot apart now with Forescin trapped between our two bodies.  I really wished that he had decided to watch Santa’s face rather than mine.
I shuffled my feet for a few and then looked Nick dead in the eyes and said, “Sorry you had to learn about the little woman like this…” I tried to cover my quickly disappearing erection with an elf – which was quite difficult considering the height difference made the elf’s mouth just about right….
“Don’t worry about me, I’ll just hang around for a bit,” a small voice said from just outside of the window, “I can wait until someone isn’t busy…just swinging from my cock…nothing important.”
The Jolly old soul gave a hearty laugh and put his hands on my shoulders, burying the elf even deeper into my groin.  This was unfortunate as the elf’s mouth was quite invitingly warm and tight and well, what dick can resist but not react to a hot moist hole? The elf, at first, began to choke and sputter then finally decided that he couldn’t fight fate any longer and began to suckle.  I couldn’t but help to wonder if this is how cows felt when the calf was…but my thought was interrupted by the big guy’s booming laugh.
Nick simply told me, “Boy, why the hell do you think I married her with such a ferocious sexual appetite and then ignored her?”
I told him I didn’t know.
He then gave me a wink and said, “Cuz the bitch is one hell of a ‘ho ‘ho ‘ho!”
Then he got serious as he noticed the empty serum vial lying on the sheets besides Mary.  He asked if I had administered the dose correctly and thanked me.  He then went on to explain that the first year that he and Mary had moved up to the North Pole he had busy organizing the elves and neglected is husbandly duties.  This meant that his little sexpot had taken to spending a lot of time in the stable.  He caught her one night with his head reindeer, “Hungstud”.  At the time there was no serum and knowing what could happen to him if he ever slept with her, he made other arrangements to still enjoy his wife without the dangers it entailed.
I didn’t understand.  Santa pointed up, my eyes followed his finger: there were cameras in various places on the ceiling.  Before those, there were one way veneer panels that he’d sit and watch on Christmas Eve, getting a couple of his elves to make his run while he watched Mary take on all cummers.  I must have had a disgusted look on my face because he offered the explanation of “Son, there’s not a heck of a lot to do for 364 days a year, and sometimes even Santa needs a little something to make him get his jollies off,” he said. “But watching that little fuck machine,” Santa nodded to his still masturbating wife, “Kept on reminding me why I married her in the first place.”
“Uhm, does anyone have a warm glass of water, perhaps?” a weak voice said from the window, “This is a really painful predicament that I am experiencing at this particular point in time.”
I asked him why he hadn’t given his wife the cure once one had been developed. I had to repeat the question though, the first time I had that warm and fuzzy feeling in my groin and the last part of the question was lost to the sound of Forescin drowning and then starting to puke while he finally managed to squeeze himself out and land on all fours on the floor.  Santa admitted that while he did want to cure Mary, he suffered from a reoccurring premature ejaculation dysfunction and couldn’t chance losing his dick because of it.  Besides, he pointed out – elfin pussy was better than no pussy at all.
Santa then thanked me again for curing his wife and proceeded to get undressed, confirming my thoughts on the real reason why he liked elfin women with his own purple nutcracker bobbing as he mounted his wife, but from the way she moaned, I didn’t think she cared what the size was just as long as it was in her.
“Oh fuck, it’s ripping!  It’s ripping off!” came from the window.
I looked towards the window and saw the purple heart give one final salute and only a thin stencil like impression was all that remained – quickly followed by a large ‘whomp’ of something hitting the deep ashy snow two stories below.
I went to get dressed, slipped on the mess the still puking Forescin had made and was about to stand when the door once again flew open and a tall moustached man dressed in coat and tails marched in, pulling a confused looking Karen with him - she was dressed in a teddy, apparently, she wasn’t as little as I thought – I would learn later that she actually was over 40 but suffered from a rare genetic disease.  With all her winter clothes on, she looked like a young lady, but with just the teddy on, she’d give Pamela Anderson a run for the money.  The man looked around wildly, turning red at the sight of old Saint Nick’s balls slapping against the mattress with a wet soggy sound and then looked at me and snarled, “Ok mister, where the fuck is that snowman…I need that god damn hat right now!”
I quickly got dressed and walked out of the room as Hinkle was frantically looking around the room and went down the stairs.  I was relieved to see that Jesus and Twilight had settled their differences and were now working cooperatively to keep the various clientele that had no idea of the goings on up stairs; it was quite a show really – Twilight would aim his/her dick up in the air and wave it about making a pretty yellow designs and Jesus would blink and turn the stream into wine just as it hit the different patron’s wine goblets.  It seemed a pity to take the railway ties out of his wrists, but there was that Hillary Clinton robot out there still, waiting, watching….
I offered to share a portal back to the heavens with Jesus but he politely declined.  I was worried that perhaps he was still bent on upsetting the belief balance in the mortal coil, but he assured me that he wasn’t interested in getting laid any longer, he had a new dream – becoming a bartender for the third world, going around and getting starving people so drunk that they wouldn’t feel hungry any longer on account that they were too busy puking.  I wished him luck and left “Santa’s Minxes”.
On my way out I ran into the green furry fella with his dick stuck in the back bottom part of the fully reconstituted snowman’s largest snowball.  I said good bye to both of them, but the moans from both of them was probably too loud for them to hear me anyway.  My watch beeped - it was midnight, officially Christmas morn. As I hailed my dimensional portal and entered it, I couldn’t help but smile when the portal driver growled, “Merry Fucking Christmas.” I most definitely did have a very Mary Christmas this year…

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