“Whew! Long day finally coming to a close. Can’t wait to join the Down and Distant boys at the bar for our last get together before Christmas. I couldn’t have asked for a better year with a better team than I have had this year. Honestly, I don’t think that Santa could even think of anything to give me that I don’t already have. Sorry fat ass, no need for you this year.”
Poon shuts down his computer by hitting ctrl+alt+delete, but then accidentally locks it instead of shutting it down.
Unlocks the computer and then shuts it down the proper way. He continues to pack away his paperwork from the work filled day into his brown satchel…NOT A MURSE – A SATCHEL! As he stands up from his mahogany desk, he hears a faint rustling in the background.
“Hello? PK? You still here?”
A tall shadow casts across the floor of the D & D lobby outlining a large built man carrying some sort of item on his shoulder.
“Hairy! Did you bring in that three legged emu with a stiffie you were talking about handling up on? If so, I can leave…..or join…..your call.”
“HoHoHoly shit you are an idiot.”
“Santa.” Poon said with a glazed over look in his eyes. “I thought I said I didn’t need your fat ass around here this year.”
Santa turns the corner from the lobby and comes into full view staring Poon directly in the face. “I don’t think I asked your fucking opinion you perverted shit!”
He then walks slowly through the office turning over desk by desk; shattering lamps and dismantling computers in the process. Poon sits idly at his desk watching the fat man unravel at a rapid pace before his eyes. Once Santa has finished demolishing the D & D office, he stands at the open door of Poon’s corner office pulling two semi automatic assault rifles from his large bag on his back.
“Now it’s time for you to meet my two friends…Naughty and Nice. Which one have you been?”
Poon grabs his 9mm from his chest strap and unloads his clip as Santa fires back with a barrage of short spurts of fire from his rifles. Poon dives across the floor of his office while dodging bullets to crouch behind his couch. Santa stands at the door continuously firing his rounds at Poon.
With a crazy stare the fat one yelled, “MEET DASHER, DANCER, PRANCER, VIXEN, COMET, CUPID, DONNER AND BLITZEN!!!! HAHAHAHAH!!!”
Poon pulls his last grenade from crotch (which he doesn’t need at all to show that he’s got something down there…..seriously, it’s just for emergencies…..seriously) pulls the pin and chunks it right at the door. Santa grabs it mid-air and throws it out of the now shattered window to the ground below. Poon then realizes that he is done for and begins singing the theme to his favorite show to comfort him.
“The world don’t move to the beat of just one drum. What might be right for you….”
At that time he hears a loud yell. “HEY FAT ASS!!!”
The gunfire stops and he glances from behind the couch to see Savant standing right behind a now nervous and fearful Santa. Savant pulls his knife to the fat man’s throat and whispers, “You forgot Rudolph fucker.”
Savant slices through Santa’s throat and softly lays him down at his feet as he bleeds.
“You forgot Rudolph? That’s the best thing you had?” said Poon.
“What would you have said? By the way, a thank you would be in order if you don’t mind”
“I mean I know it was in the moment or whatever, but that was kinda gay. I think I may have rather him just keep shooting at me instead of hearing that crap. How are you going to retell this story with a straight face?”
“Ok dick. You want to sit here and dwell on this and explain to Rosa the maid why there is a dead fat man bleeding to death or do you want to meet up with everyone and not tell them you were singing Different Strokes while Santa Clause fired bullets at you?”
“Why you gotta call me out like that? I suppose you have a deal. First round’s on me. And by that I mean first beer, not that beer-shot-cocktail combo crap.”
Merry Christmas to all and to all a Poon night!