|A Christmas Story (standard:fairy tales, 1874 words)|
|Author: Anonymous||Added: Dec 12 2001||Views/Reads: 1945/1184||Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)|
|It's that time again when Santa wakes his team up. Their's much training to do, but this year the record is on?|
A CHRISTMAS STORY (For the young at heart) By Keith Evans The snow was falling heavily, Santa quickly checked out his red outfit before opening the huge barn doors. This was one of the those moments he really enjoyed every year. His Reindeer had been in hibernation all year and Santa had really missed seeing them all. "Do you think they will like my outfit", he asked his little band of helpers who were eagerly waiting behind him with shovels at the ready. "Course they will Boss", the little foreman replied. "What's he sodding well talking about", one little helper whispered to his mate, then continued. "He's worn that same bloody outfit for the last 200years, or have I gone bloody blind all of a sudden". "SHUSH", the foreman whispered, Santa will hear you. "O.K. boy's, get them masks up", Santa then reached up to remove the bars across the huge doors. "Why us? Why do we have to clear this shite year in year out? I mean, we do the toy's, we do all the brewing up, go for his dinners, wash his stupid bloody white beard. And what thanks do we get hey; I ask you, and another thing, if he says HO HO HO one more bloody time, this shovel is going straight up his bum". (It sounded like little Jeremy was quite upset, don't you think children.) "Ready to go boss", the foreman shouted from behind his mask. Santa pulled open the doors, the stench of 12 months shit drifted out into the night air. Somewhere out of the dark came a voice, which sounded a little upset? "DON'T TELL ME YOUR OPENING THEM BLOODY DOORS WILL YOU", his darling sweet wife shouted from the house. She quickly slammed shut the kitchen window, showing her displeasure by shoving one finger up at her dear husband. "Sorry my little cherub", Santa softly shouted back, his face slightly blushing. They all stood at the doors, all peering into the dark barn. It was Santa who first spoke. "HO.HO. HO, boys, IT'S CHRISTMAS", they all waited for a response. "Right, that's it, that's the last bloody HO HO HO he will shout". Jeremy rushed forward. Jeremy had to be restrained as he rushed towards his boss, shovel at the ready. The cold Arctic wind rushed into the barn, quickly giving the usual response from the rear of the barn. It was those angelic tones as was shouted last year. "SHUT THEM SODDING DOORS YOU GREAT BIG RED FAIRY". "Nice to hear you missed me boys. How do you like my outfit", he asked. By this time his little helpers were busy with their shovels. Unfortunately one had gotten a bit to close to one of the Reindeer, Santa watched him as he flew over his head. Yes children, you guessed, it was poor old Jeremy. "Right you great big red nosed fleabag, this shovels going right up Rudolph's backside". Jeremy quickly wiped off the snow then rushed back into the barn. Santa quickly grabbed hold of Jeremy. "Not so quick lad, you should know what Rudolph's like till he's had his first drink." Santa was of course referring to Rudolph's drinking habits. Most people in Lapland were well aware that poor Rudolph was of course, an alcoholic. Obviously his red nose is a dead give away if you think about it. There were of course many rumours about Santa's Reindeer. One such rumour, which of course was just a rumour I must point out because nobody had actually caught them at it was, any god fearing Reindeer with a name like Prancer must be gay. And his so-called partner in this vicious rumour was of course Dancer. Now children, I must point out that it is only a rumour, properly started by those nasty elves. Now then, were was I, oh yes. "O.K. which one of you fleabags nicked my bottle? Rudolph shouted as he clawed away at the frozen ground. "Don't look at me darling", Prancer snorted as she, sorry, he, licked his bum. "That's bloody disgusting that is", Jeremy said as he watched Prancer cleaning himself. "What is" Santa replied. "Why, that is. Look, he's sticking his tongue right up his bum". Jeremy was now pointing at Prancer, who was oblivious to Jeremy's observations. "He's an animal, that's how animals wash themselves", Santa told Jeremy. At this point Cupid, another one of Santa's Reindeer intervened. "Lithen Jeremy, don't leth Pranther hear you thaying thath or he will thick hith tongue up your bum". Poor Cupid was born with a terrible lisp; it's not a typing error I can assure you. "Run off now Jeremy", Santa told his little helper. "We have to have some practise runs this evening. The usual formation boys, Rudolph up front, and the rest of you as last year", Santa was just about to continue when Rudolph quickly interrupted. "Theirs no way I am having that pervert behind me again," he was pointing his hoof at Prancer. "Now, now, boys. Prancer has already apologised for what happened last year. And if you remember Rudolph, it was not all Prancer's fault if I recall". Santa was now running his fingers through his beard. A habit that usually means he's Click here to read the rest of this story (91 more lines)
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