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Guy Faukes
December 18th, 2010, 05:14 AM
A little morbid Christmas tale I concocted.
There's some pretty dark humor in it, so be warned.

It was the night before Christmas, almost like any other. Timothy Scholtz and his family laid snug in their beds. The parents dreamed of dancing sugar plums and carefully wrapped presents, but tonight, little Timmy lay wide awake. Tim was just seven years old and still had those round, red cheeks of youth. He dearly wished to see Santa tonight with all of his heart, he really did. He wanted to see the round, joyful man, to leap into that comfy red lap like he did at the mall and wrap his small arms around that big, red belly.
He knew that Santa would not come if he was awake, but he eagerly hoped that the bearded man would take exception, just this once! So he lay underneath his warm blanket, sleepily waiting for that soft, light thud on the roof. He would then run into the living room, where the fireplace and milk and cookies were, where Santa carefully stacked their gifts underneath their Christmas tree. Rather, he would have, if he wasn’t bound tightly in his bed.
“Now be quiet. This will be over soon enough." said the ornery blue fellow standing above him.
Little Timothy nodded, shutting his eyes as tightly.
The man trained his eyes on the Tim's window for hours, waiting for that thud on roof to set him in motion. He heard a muffled crunch of snow above and saw soft sprinkle of snow from the eaves trough.
“Showtime.” the blue man said to himself before slipping out of the room.

The man slipped like a shadow downstairs, passing the master bedroom where Mr. and Mrs. Scholtz lay unconscious in a drugged sleep. He silently and effortless entered the living room unnoticed. Sure enough, the Saint Nick and his merry elves moved about in the fire lit room, putting away presents for the Scholtz family underneath their enormous Christmas tree. The blue man removed a Glocke 23 from its holster, pointing it to the round, jolly man, never to make so much as a sound until he removed the safety.
“Ho ho ho! Why Timothy! I knew you were awake all this time, now, wh… Jack Frost! What are you doing here!?” asked Santa, still with Christmas cheer in his voice.
“Hello Santa. I’ve been ever so naughty. What will you put in my stocking? Toys? Coal? Oh, wait… nothing. You’ll be dead.” said Jack, winding a silencer onto the barrel of the gun.
“Says you, you frigid, overgrown Smurf!” yelled Santa. “Elves! Attack maneuver eight!”
The elves, with their shadows drawn out by the fireplace, stood silently, shamefully.
“What is this?” the cheery man said with disbelief. “Attack him!”
Jack merely snickered.
“My apologies, Nicholas. There have been a might big change of plans. Your elf friends have been bought out.” Jack unraveled a scroll he pulled from his pocket before throwing it on the coffee table.
“Please, take a look yourself… but no quick movements, or your bowl full of jelly will be oozing over the hardwood floor.”
“I… I don’t believe his… I…” said Santa, readjusting his glasses again and again while his blinking eyes ran through the lines of print.
“Believe it, old man. The Claus Society will no longer have you. As you can see, you’re immortality has been suspended, so a bullet… or obesity… is as deadly to you as any man. You spread empty capitalism and joy to the children when you should be spreading the almighty fear of God! At least, that’s what they believe. I’m agnostic.” said Jack.
“Go figure.”
“Hmpf… I would’ve let you live for a few more minutes. I did wonder how you came down through a lit chimney… oh well, any last words?” asked Jack, lining up the sights on Santa.
“Why yes, yes I do, Mr. Frost. Listen very carefully, read my lips….Eat… my-”
A bullet passed through Santa’s frames, between his lenses and eyes, spraying blood and grey matter over the hot fireplace. Santa’s body fell, landing completely splayed out before the dance of Christmas tree lights.
“I guess not… You, elf, drag Mr. Scholtz and place him here, right where I’m standing. Plant this on him. It’s empty, so don’t try anything funny… well… what are you waiting for? Get to it!” demanded Frost as he kicked the poor green elf out of shock before handing it over.
“And you,” commanded Frost to another elf, “take that fire iron. Hit Mr. Scholtz’s head with it before placing it on Santa. His right hand, of course. Move some furniture around. Make it look like a confrontation happened here.” The elf hesitantly obeyed, slowly walking over to the side of the fireplace.
“Workers…” Frost muttered, pulling out a satellite phone. “NorthBase, this is Frost, send over Sled two. The bucket has been tipped…”

Sled Two, moving faster than light by the magic of twelve pairs of reindeer hooves, zipped from house to house before finally arriving on top of the Scholtz residence. The sled hovered for a moment, before gently landing beside the original. Frost emerged from behind Sled One, arms crossed.
“Took you long enough. Where’s the rest of my payment?”
“Right here, blue bones.” Spoke the New Santa, tossing over a heavy burlap sack. “In Euros, as you requested. You know, your time will come eventually. The Claus Society won’t tolerate your existence forever.”
“Someday, but not today.” replied Frost, a smirk curling his lips. “But for now, I’m off to the Netherlands… looks like you’ve come from there yourself…” Frost commented, looking closely at the sled.
“You mean this? Part of the new policy.” said New Santa, lifting a black bag of naughty Dutch children that writhed from side to side.
“Decadent… and what’s this? Irradiated coal… plain, wooden toys… itchy wool clothes… harsh children’s stories with crude allegorical references to religious figures? If I could only see the looks on their face I might not have asked for payment!” hooted Frost.
“Only if… now, I’m on a tight schedule. Farewell, cretin!” yelled New Santa in a menacingly booming voice as Sled Two sped away into the night.
“And to you!” yelled back Frost as he boarded Sled One and pointed it to Amsterdam. The spindly blue figure cackled, exclaimed to the world, “Merry Christmas to all, and to all, a good night!” before flying off and out of sight.

Matt Gannon
December 19th, 2010, 05:56 AM
This was so cool. I loved your take on the whole "night before christmas" thing. That being said, there are some things that can be done to improve this. With proper care, this can be a little gem.

Here goes:

-Try to replace adverbs like "silently" and "effortlessly" and replace them with descriptive prose. Remember, you are SHOWING the reader a story, not TELLING ;) It makes for such a better experience if all the senses are appealed to (or at least some). Using adverbs feels like an easy way out, you know what I mean?

-It would be more effective, in my opinion, if the confrontations were a bit more serious. I totally get that it's supposed to be humorous, and of course it should be, (it's your story, after all lol) but it seems like the confrontations just flit by and I was left a bit underwhelmed. Add in some flare and flourish, my friend :)

-I'd do a general tightening up of things, and polish this little piece. It's very clever and creative. I really liked it. It's very cool to see people do this type of thing.

Like I said before, with proper care, this could be one hell of a short story :)

Sync
December 20th, 2010, 02:55 PM
Lol Guy, an enjoyable read for a read :)

Everyone deserves a bit of xmas fun, even Frost.

thanks for the read and chuckles

Sync

Kordain
December 20th, 2010, 09:07 PM
change the format. its hard on the eyes when the paragraphs are so close together.

describe the appearance of the characters, santa, frost, elves.

who is this new santa? where did he come from? what kinda santa would make a deal with frost?

darn! i did hope for a epic gun battle with santa and frost.

good stuff. this is just stuff that i as a reader would like to know from the reading.

Kordain
December 20th, 2010, 09:12 PM
also explain this claus society more thanks.

shadows
December 20th, 2010, 10:40 PM
Hi Guy_Faukes

An entertaining spin on Santa Claus. Not even Christmas is immune to takeovers.

I did get a bit confused who Santa was talking to here.


The man slipped like a shadow downstairs, passing the master bedroom where Mr. and Mrs. Scholtz lay unconscious in a drugged sleep. He silently and effortless entered the living room unnoticed. Sure enough, the Saint Nick and his merry elves moved about in the fire lit room, putting away presents for the Scholtz family underneath their enormous Christmas tree. The blue man removed a Glocke 23 from its holster, pointing it to the round, jolly man, never to make so much as a sound until he removed the safety.
“Ho ho ho! Why Timothy! I knew you were awake all this time, now, wh… Jack Frost! What are you doing here!?” asked Santa, still with Christmas cheer in his voice.

I thought Jack had gone downstairs on his own as Timmy was tied up in his bed.

Loved the overgrown smurf retort, though frigid was not really needed.

Guy Faukes
December 21st, 2010, 12:00 AM
Matt - thanks a lot for the feedback! It could use some polish and a rework/expansion. I was a tad concerned that I would come off as being psychotic if I went too far with it (since it is Christmas) That blasted amateur mistake of "telling not showing" is hard to overcome.

Sync - glad you enjoyed it :D

Kordain - Thanks! I do enjoy good feedback. I might draw out specific details on how Frost and Santa look since most people have a rough idea of what they look like anyways.
As for the details (New Santa, the Claus Society), maybe this is just an introduction into the seedy underworld of the Christmas organized crime family, hehe.

Shadows - Glad you had fun. To explain that little bit; since Santa knew that Timmy was awake, he at first mistook that click of the safety for being Timmy entering the room and making some sort of noise. So, when he first turns around, he's merrily greeting Timmy, but realizes it's Frost halfway. I'll try to make it clearer.

UP NEXT: A re-haul the entire narrative coming soon with extended dialogue, love, a gory threeway firefight packed with modern weapons and explosions, and of course, presents.

Yourth Street (where this story takes place) will never be the same.


ALSO: The Frost Chronicles: The story of an innocent icicle boy, brought up in the slums of a frozen wasteland, who's life was destined to converge with Frosty the Snowman, the master warlord of Antarctica.

Red Riot
December 25th, 2010, 01:09 AM
hey this is awesome

I liked reading it a lot, even though it's kind of short - I don't mind; it's a very good story

I can't say too much about what to improve, most things have already been said. I'd just suggest to describe your characters' appearances, too

this story actually reminded me on something we were reading in my English class last Wednesday, the 22nd of December. actually, it was a 12th grade, but I'm still in 8th... well, I'm allowed to go there. however, we read some pages of "Hogfather" by Terry Pratchet. I haven't read the whole book, but it sounds awesome, just wanted to say that =)

Johnathanrs
December 25th, 2010, 11:09 AM
I thought the story was good. There was only one part of your story writing that really hurt it in my opinion.

It's like someone commented, your conversations were just not believable.

A example:

“take that fire iron. Hit Mr. Scholtz’s head with it before placing it on Santa. His right hand, of course. Move some furniture around. Make it look like a confrontation happened here.”

With the way you wrote the story, this just didn't match Jacks personality. This is my own interpretation of what he would of been like:

"take the fire iron!" pointed Jack, "Hit his head with it before placing it on Santa" as he barked at a elf pointing at Mr. Scholtz. and the fire iron. "His right hand!" "NO,NO,NO! Move some furniture around! Make it look like a confrontation happened here."

Something like this would of made the story perfect. Overall, it was enjoyable.