The Twelve Days of Christmas Day 10

On the tenth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me… National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation!

Christmas Lights

Sh*&er’s full!

10 Lords a leaping!

a fried cat

Christie Brinkley

and this song

500 words

2 thoughts on “The Twelve Days of Christmas Day 10

  1. The christmas lights Larry picked up at the market popped and fizzled, bursting into flame and turning the 2-foot excuse of a christmas tree into a burnt stick. It fell off its perch on the rickety bookshelf, the lights still flickering and sparking, and dropped onto his sleeping cat. The smell of fried cat filled the tiny flat. Tyler opened the door to the bathroom and a different fragrance took over.
    “Sorry ’bout that. Must’ve been the turkey. Shitter was full when I’d finished.”
    “Urgh, Tyler, did you have to go into details? And close that door!”
    We sat there in the stench. Larry wouldn’t open a window because he didn’t want to light the gas heater again, paranoid he’d die of fumes. If something didn’t happen soon, they’d find three corpses sitting on flea-ridden armchairs. Tyler’s phone went off with a christmasy tone. As he picked up the call, he sang the lyrics.
    “…Ten lords a leaping, nine ladies dancing…hello?”
    “Shitty tone,” muttered Larry.
    “Okay, will do.” Tyler put it down. “What’s your problem, Larry?”
    “Christmas tones now, is it? What’ll it be next? Going from door to door, carol singing?” Larry turned on the TV.
    We all looked at each other. Not such a bad idea.
    “I’ve got a few, actually. ‘Jingle Bells’, ‘Holy Night’ and even ‘Mele Kalikimaka’, a Hawaiian Christmas song.” He played a few bars. Our eyes moved to the TV as Christie Brinkley jumped into a pool.
    “Why wasn’t that in my Christmas stocking?”

  2. Driving charter buses may not seem like the most thrilling job on the planet, but it’s got its moments. Especially in Hawaii. The people are what makes this job interesting. Some, not so much. My current group of British businessmen exemplifies the latter.
    I pull into a Chinese restaurant on the west coast, and let the men file out. While they sample the local cuisine, I pig out at the grease hut across the street. There’s nothing like these roadside trailers, especially if the health department has anything to say about it. After polishing off everything else, I decide to finish my triple-layer chili cheese fries back at the bus.
    I set my drink on a parking pylon and dig into my fries. I barely get three bites in before some redneck from the Chinese restaurant interrupts me, “Hey, feller! Shiter’s full in there, mind if I use yer bus’?”
    “Sorry man, doesn’t have a bathroom. There’s some port-o-pottys next to that hotel they’re building next door though.”
    He gives me a quick wave and waddles off in that direction. A few moments later one of my dapper gentlemen comes from the building, followed by others.
    He walks up to me with quick strides. “Oh Driver! I say! The privy line in this establishment is quite long! Is there anywhere near that I may relieve myself?”
    I point over towards the construction site and say to the growing crowd. “Port-o-pots’ that way.”
    One of the men behind him seems to be either brewing coffee, or eaten a live bear, judging from the sound that emanates from his stomach. He folds over and holds his stomach as he says with sweat developing on his forehead, “Bloody hell!”
    The sound, like some grotesque mating call, is answered, and echoed, from the bowels of the remaining congregation.
    “I thought they were joking when they said they fried cats and fed it to people!” moans another gentleman.
    The ten men leap through the air, several holding their rears, on their way to the promised bathrooms. It doesn’t take long before some return in a panic.
    A red convertible pulls up blaring the only regional Christmas song I know of, “… Mele Kalikimaka is Hawaii’s way… to Say ‘Merry Christmaaass’ to you…” The song cuts out when the engine. A gorgeous lady in a full length dress steps out and I nearly drop my fries. To say she looks like Christie Brinkley’s doppelganger wouldn’t be an exaggeration.
    As she heads towards the door I call out to her, “Miss!” She turns and faces me. “I wouldn’t eat in there if I were you… It’s trying for a new record on the number of stomachs it can destroy.”
    She gives me a flawless smile and grins with a twinkle in her eye. “Wasn’t planning on it. I’m with the Health Department, and this is their surprise inspection…”
    I go back to my fries as I add, “A nose plug may be necessary…”

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