1-11:Christmas Crackers
(the first DaisyDonnie Christmas Special)
She woke with a killer headache and instinctively felt between her legs.
Daisy stiffened slightly as she realised there was someone sitting on her lap.
‘An I wanna x-box, anna zap gun anna–’
‘Who’s Anna?’ she asked with Donnie’s voice. Well, that sorted the gender thing out. ‘And who are you?’
‘I tol’ you. Jason is my name. Except it’s spelled with a K instead of a J and a Y instead of an O. And it’s got a U and an M instead of an N. An I want a whole bucket of chocolate an–’
Donnie zoned out momentarily, trying to work out how the child’s name was spelled and how to actually pronounce it. The child continued to talk, going off like a junkie on speed.
‘You listening Santa?!’ screamed Kasyum (pronounced Jason).
Santa?!
Oh sweet prophet of choice!
He glanced past the child and his shoulders dropped
‘Oh no.’
There were forty or more children waiting in line, and it wasn’t even close to closing time.
The midday rush was in its third hour and counting. The signs screamed:
One day til Xmas!!! Open 24 hours!!!!Donnie rapidly examined the parts of his body that hadn’t fallen asleep from the pressure of a junk-food addicted child sitting on them. Padded belly, fluffy beard, fizzy-drink red jacket and matching pants.
Jesus.
Standing beside him was a scantily-clad young woman, pushing all of sixteen, grinning like a maniac.
Perhaps, mused Donnie, she’d been forced to superglue her lips back and use the remainder to stick her teeth together as a condition of employment.
Her smile was like a searchlight across the faces of the thirty and forty-something fathers. They beamed back, presumably wishing they could sit on her knee, or that she could sit on their –
‘I think Santa sucks,’ screeched the dyslexically named child and jumped off Donnie’s knee, not before the one bony part of his body collided with Donnie’s nethers.
Donnie gasped and screwed his eyes up while his legs instinctively pushed together.
The child ran over to his parents, who handed him a container full of fizzy-drink and a toffee-apple.
‘Happy Christmas,’ he wheezed, and glanced up at his assistant. ‘Does that hurt?’
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Tags: christmas, elf, news crew, Santa, shopping center, thunderbirds
There are a few ways to describe one's self when effectively trying to mask the fact that you're a complete hermit and spend your entire existence behind a computer screen sipping hot tea and eating cakes. The first would be to suggest that you're somewhat introverted and avoid coffee. Another might be to suggest you're a fan of Apple Macs but are cutting-down from the 6 you used to have to an even two (Macbook and Mac Mini in turn). Finally you might choose to say that despite the massive pay-drop, this writing thing is quite a lark isn't it? Not to mention enjoying the creative life a lot more than mindless tedium in corporate jobs, working the 40 hour week to the drumming of endless meetings and political intrigue that would have made Machiavelli blush and hand his pen over to the corporate slugs that run companies these days. Enough said really.
