Christmas Crackers

One of the fifteen missiles roared away from the sleigh and did its job, transforming the target to a scrap merchant’s wildest dream. The ship fell downward, green smoke pouring from it as quickly as ripped DVDs in a shady market-place.

Meanwhile, the reindeer were making short-work of the attack-ships. Rudolph was leading the fight, his laser-sighting nose guiding a wide variety of explosive armaments towards the enemy fighters.

Carol was shooting down some of the fleet that had formed a rearguard action against them. The sky was ablaze with red and green colour.

Rudolph was forced to withdraw for a short period as his weaponry was overheating, flying up towards a backup sleigh high in the sky where he received a good rub-down and a spray of water to prepare for the next round.

‘Perhaps the Pink button now sir,’ said Smith, interjecting.

‘Pink button,’ asked Donnie. ‘Sounds fab. What’s that for?’

‘Co-ordinates the Reindeer’s attack. Mother-ship dead-ahead.’

So it was. A great big ugly looking thing, lumpy, with what looked, oddly enough, like billboards and buildings randomly arranged across the surface.

The reindeer attacked as one, their side-mounted air-to-air missiles exploding against the hull of the ship. Rudolph rejoined the fray, guiding the missiles to their intended targets.

‘Incoming reinforcements!’ exclaimed Smith as the reindeer peeled away, their armaments exhausted. They flew towards another sleigh, high in the sky, to reload.

Helicopters moved forwards, their well-armed current-affairs hosts opening up with everything they had. Several windows on the mother-ship were severely muddied by the weighty arguments presented.

‘Didn’t work,’ said Donnie in shock as the helicopters pulled back. He stood and yelled, shaking his fist. ‘Fat lot of bloody good you pack of righteously indignant layabouts are!’

Donnie sat back down and stared at the ship a moment. He tilted his head and suddenly realised what it was.

‘Oh no,’ he exclaimed.

‘What’s wrong sir?’ asked Smith.

‘The ship,’ said Donnie. ‘It looks like an enormous shopping centre!’

‘Good grief, sir,’ answered Smith with some astonishment. ‘You’re right!’

‘How the hell do we stop something like that,’ asked Donnie. ‘Revoke the planning permits? Bribe the nearest local council member?’

The ship grew ever closer and Donnie decided to make a stand. He pressed all the buttons. At once.