Christmas Crackers

‘You’re stupid Santa.’

Donnie considered this could very well be the case, seeing as he was the one in the santa-suit. However, he didn’t like being told unpleasant facts by kids, especially ones that were spoiled little shits.

‘So what do you think you deserve for Christmas Timmy,’ he asked, a little cynicism creeping into his voice.

‘I deserve everything I want,’ screeched the child. ‘Cos I’ve been good all year!’

Donnie considered this could have been stretching the truth somewhat and looked up to see Timmy’s parents standing just outside the rope barrier. They beamed smiles with vacant expressions behind them, rather the same as everyone else out there.

He hadn’t seen this many grinning people outside of a Rave party; though there was one exception: a little girl standing between Timmy’s parents.

I feel your pain, he thought.

‘Well, that’s what you’ll get then Timmy,’ said Donnie, returning his gaze to the vile five-year-old on his lap. ‘You’re going to get everything you deserve.’

‘I better,’ said Timmy, extending his bottom lip. He began to scream.

‘Christ, you’re loud,’ declared Donnie, now holding the child at arms length. He could feel the tinnitus taking hold and had his face screwed-up from the pain the sound was causing him.

Timmy’s parents came and collected him, gave Donnie so many filthy looks he’d need a shower, then turned and left.

In their wake, stood another child: Timmy’s sister.

Donnie stuck a finger in his ear to try to get some feeling back in there. It emerged slightly yellow at the tip. He sniffed it, then smeared the wax over the seat.

‘What did you do to my brother,’ she asked cautiously.

‘Nothing, honestly,’ said Donnie. He just started screaming.’

She nodded. This was obviously behaviour she was well experienced with.

‘He’s got some good lungs on him hasn’t he?’ said Donnie slightly sarcastically. ‘I bet he usually gets what he wants.’

She nodded and raised her eyebrows. ‘Everything he wants.’

‘Should I ask what your name is?’