Flashback – 12 Days of Christmas – Day 7
(Reposted from our 2013 Christmas series)
From the diary of Santa Claus…
So I found out what the RPGs and .50-caliber machine guns were for…
The wife called last night, ready to discuss our divorce. The call was heated, I’ll admit, but that’s only because she was being irrational. She told me she wanted the factory. The whole factory. Is she $#@!ing nuts? How much nutmeg did she put in her hot chocolate last night? I told her no. She screamed at me, called me a jolly fool, said I didn’t know a GI Joe from a hole in the ground. Normally, I wouldn’t take that lying down, but since I was actually lying down at that particular moment, I held my tongue. She said I’d be seeing her lawyers. I said she’d be kissing my jolly red ass.
I needed to blow off some steam, so I went to the guest house to see Jack, and after pouring my heart out he offered to take me out for a Guy’s Night on the town. He assured me that we’d find some quality trim, so I agreed, not totally understanding what he’d just said. But hey, he seemed excited! We went to an expensive steakhouse, got a little surf and turf action, along with some imported beers, and Jack, predictably, let me pick up the tab. He also ordered some extra filets and crab cakes to go, which seemed a good idea at the time, seeing as how we didn’t have anyone around to cook for us. After that, he took me to a martini bar where he opened a tab using my debit card and then proceeded to buy drinks for every decent-looking girl in sight. And there were a LOT of decent-looking girls.
After the bar, Jack recommended a club called Ebony Nights, but he had to text some girl named ‘Ireland’ and see if she was working there first. The place was a strip club, which seems obvious in hindsight, but I decided to give it a whirl. It seemed strange to have to pay people to sit on my lap, instead of the other way around, especially for so many girls who have spent quite a bit of time on my Naughty List, but I didn’t complain. Once I ran out of singles, though, I went to find Jack and tell him I wanted to go. He’d borrowed about seven hundred bucks almost an hour ago and taken Ireland and two other girls to the VIP room. By the time I found him, bouncers were trying to haul him away for spanking one of the girls too hard. I didn’t understand why that was such a problem, personally. How else would they change their behavior and get to the Nice List? The bouncers disagreed, and when Jack struggled, one of them clocked him. When I stepped in, they did the same to me. When they threatened to call the cops, we booked it to the parking lot, hopped in the sleigh, and flew home, laughing all the way. Fortunately, the reindeer knew their way back, because by then I couldn’t see straight.
Well, the next morning I wake up on my living room floor, dressed only in my Grinch boxers, to pounding at the front door. I stumbled across the room, nearly tripping over a porcelain statue of Rudolph, while fighting through the worst dry mouth I’ve ever had. I reach the door to find a pack of overdressed lawyers with smiles like hyenas, carrying a stack of papers in which I’m supposed to sign over just about everything I own. At first I refused. Why the hell would I cave to such ridiculous demands?
Well, that’s when they revealed the existence of a sex tape starring Yours Truly. Jackie from Pittsburgh had taped us that night, and now it was all over the internet! I was her Ray J! When I heard that, I cried like a schoolgirl. Then I vomited all over the lawyers’ shoes, mostly because I was still hungover from too many mojitos. After a little more crying and vomiting, I eventually signed the damn papers and sent them away with the first of many alimony checks that will most likely bring financial ruin on the institution of Christmas.
So where did the RPGs come in? Apparently Glitterface’s guerillas saw the cadre of men and women with $400 haircuts and $10,000 shoes and thought I was working a deal to move toy operations offshore, to China, a land full of short, industrious factory workers with funny hats and pointy shoes. Feeling threatened, they naturally wasted the blood-sucking suits. Really made a mess of the rosebushes and the trim around one of my windows, but it was worth it to see the lawyers’ faces on my CCTV recordings just before getting pelted with heavy ordnance. I play it on a loop in my office now. It’s hilarious. Mrs. Claus and her new lawyers might not think so, however…
Of course, now that this war has escalated I’m going to have to start upping my game. Time to use my secret weapon – the devious mind of Jack Frost.