Christmas In Hell: A Story From Blood Under The Mistletoe

Christmas In Hell

By Lisa McCourt Hollar

Art by Thomas Arensberg

There was a cat hanging above his head.

When Thomas first opened his eyes, he thought he was dreaming. His leg had been throbbing and he had taken some vicodin to deaden the pain, along with some alcohol. It wasn’t unusual for him to see things when he first awoke, especially after a night of bingeing. The cat leered down at him, its mouth open in a silent jeer. You just had to drink the whole bottle of Jack, it seemed to be saying.

“It just seemed the best way to get through the holiday. Besides, who are you to judge, you’re the one hanging from the ceiling. Talk about tying one on.” Thomas chuckled at the joke. The cat didn’t join him, its eyes staring coldly down at him.  Thomas studied the cat. He thought its name was Fluffy. Mrs. Cranston had been looking for it the other day. She seemed to have thought he’d done something to the flea-ridden beast, just because he had threatened to gut the thing next time he caught it pissing or shitting in his garden. Now Fluffy’s white fur was matted with blood and the cat’s entrails were dangling above Thomas’s head and he wondered if maybe he had, in a drunken stupor, carried through with the threat.

“Look, I’m sorry, if I did that to you. I was just looking to spend the next few days comatose. It’s a Christmas tradition, started by my father when I was a boy. Beat my mother, fuck my sister… then me and be passed out by nine. Merry Christmas, Happy New Year. Only it was more a daily tradition, but it always seemed more special at Christmas.”

The cat stared, dripping blood onto Thomas’s forehead. 

“Okay, will you stop that?” Thomas tried to swipe at his face, only he couldn’t move his hand. Something was holding it down. He tried his other, but again, it lay next to him, as impotent and useless as his dick when he tried to fuck the cute neighbor. The cat smirked, silently laughing. The cute neighbor had laughed too, until he’d made her stop. “Stop laughing at me!”

The cat just stared down, drip, drip, dripping, a good, yet twisted version of the Chinese Water Torture. Thomas screamed, pleading with God, if God existed, to free him from this hellish nightmare. After a while, he stopped. God wasn’t going to help him. He hadn’t helped him when his father used him for sex and he wasn’t going to help him now. He would have to help himself, just as he had all those years ago.

“You think you helped yourself,” his father whispered. “You became me.”

Thomas turned his head and glowered at his father, who was dressed in the Santa outfit he’d  been wearing when his son had finally stood up to him. The meat cleaver was still sticking out of his head. “You’re not here. I don’t want you here.”

Jake Mackey disappeared and was replaced by his mother. He flinched, startled by the sudden pain in his chest. He’d hated her. She had allowed the abuse, turning her back on her own children. She had confessed, just before her death, that she was always relieved when her husband turned his attention away from her and towards their two children.

“A mother is supposed to protect her kids.”

“I couldn’t protect myself, how was I supposed to protect you?”

“You weren’t supposed to stand by and watch, while he did the unspeakable to us. He killed Jenny.”

“No, you did that.”

She was right. Jenny had become pregnant. Thomas knew if anyone found out, everyone would know what was going on inside their home. They would investigate and his father would go to prison. But then they would also find the animals. He’d buried them in the basement, but they would find them. They wouldn’t understand that he needed to release his rage somehow. So Thomas told Jenny she needed to get rid of the baby. It was the first time he’d seen a vagina. Jenny lay on the bed with her legs spread open, while he followed the instructions in the book. He’d done something wrong though. The hanger had pierced something it wasn’t supposed to and he couldn’t stop the bleeding. And then something happened that had only occurred when he’d killed the neighborhood cats. He developed an erection.

“I protected you then,” his mother said. “When I found you on top of your sister, covered with her blood, I didn’t judge you.”

They told everyone, including his dad, that she’d run away. But with Jenny gone, Jake Mackey had turned his full attention to Thomas.

“Your tight little ass wasn’t so tight after I was done with you,” Jake taunted. His voice was coming from somewhere behind Thomas and he twisted his head, trying to find him.

“Go away, I don’t want you here. Just go to hell and leave me alone.”

His father laughed. “Where do you think you are?”

Thomas closed his eyes and screamed until he passed out. When he came to next, the cat was still there, but it was no longer dripping blood on him. He turned his head, but there was no sign of his father. Of course not, it had been a dream. A nightmare, induced by too much Jack.

Then why was the cat still there?

Thomas tried to sit up, but he couldn’t. This time he knew why. He was strapped to a table. He recognized it; it was the table he kept in his basement. He looked around… yes, that’s where he was. How had he gotten here?  Thomas struggled against his bonds, pulling against the leather straps. They were cutting into his wrists. He continued to pull. The blood acted as lubrication and eventually he felt his right wrist beginning to slip free. At last there was a sickening pop, the sound of his thumb breaking, and his wrist slid loose. His left side was still tethered to the table. He lifted his free hand, hoping to undo the restraint, but it was futile. He was able to maneuver his body so that he could gnaw at the strap with his teeth. It was when he was halfway through, his teeth bloodied, some broken, that he saw her. Amelia. His neighbor’s ten year old daughter. She was just sitting there, watching him, a faint smile on her face.

She smiled when she saw Thomas watching. It was nearly dark in the room, but her smile shined and she had a gleam in her eyes that sent a chill through his body. She was enjoying his pain. Then she spoke.

"You're funny."

Thomas was startled to hear the girl speak. She was retarded… no wait, mentally delayed, that was the correct term. Her mother had come unglued when she’d heard him use the “R” word.  Either way, he’d never heard her speak, which had made her the perfect plaything for him… at least until her mother had taken her to the doctor and found out she was pregnant.

“You’re the only man she’s been around,” Kristin had screamed. “I’ve called the police. You’re going to go to prison.”

Only she’d ended up on his table. No one knew about this room and it was soundproof. When the police came, they didn’t find anything and with Amelia missing too…

Only now he was on the table.

"Sweetie, help me."

"Why?"

She had him there. Amelia had watched him torture her mom. She stepped forward then and Thomas saw something else gleaming in the dark. She had a knife in her hand. "I was getting bored with cats. And mommy died too fast. What happened to your leg?"

“My father broke it when I was small. It never grew right after that.”

"Does it hurt?"

“Sometimes. Honey, why don’t you untie me?”

Amelia laughed. "I thought you liked the tie up game.”

Again, she wasn’t wrong, except Thomas liked it better when he was the one with the knife and the evil gleam in his eye. She stepped forward and he reached out, trying to grab the knife. Amelia danced out of his way, clearly delighted. Then she frowned and he saw her for a moment as she had been the last time he saw her, her neck twisted at an odd angle. He hadn’t meant to break her neck, it had just happened.

She smiled then and the image faded. His hand was strapped down to the table again. He struggled against it as she advanced. “You’re fun,” she said as she raised the knife.  “Now let's see what's going on with your leg."

She laughed then. It was the last sound he heard before passing out. Regaining consciousness, he saw his leg was gone. She wasn’t finished though. She took his fingers, his eyes… she even cut out his tongue because she said his screaming wasn’t fun anymore. And then when she had nothing left to cut off, she sewed them back on and started over again. Sometimes she had help. His father would show up every now and then, still in his Santa Claus outfit.

“I’ve got a Christmas package for you,” he’d say, right before flipping him onto his stomach. His sister rammed a coat hanger into his ass too. “How does this feel, Thomas?” He cried, pleading for death, but it never came. He knew why. He was already dead and this was his hell.

***

Christmas In Hell is one of my stories included in Blood Under The Mistletoe, an Anthology of Christmas horror put out by Visionary Press Cooperative. Stories are included from Blaze McRob, Jeffrey Hollar and myself. There are 14 stories in all and I love every single one of them. Thomas Arensberg has also illustrated several pictures included in the anthology, as well as the cover. It is available on Amazon, BN, Smashwords, VPC and in full color print.

Hear No Evil

I wrote this from a writing prompt, Hear No Evil. It's short, but I can see it becoming something more in time.

Hear No Evil

     Santa Claus was dead. Of course he wasn’t the real Santa Claus. That fucker was dead long ago, killed by commercialism and gluttony. But his memory lived on and then scum like this twisted and perverted that image.

     Edgar stood over the body and wiped his knife on a cloth he’d found on the ground. He relived the kill again in his mind, walking past the alley, images flashing in his head, the way they always did when evil was around. It didn’t take him long to find the source. The guy laughed when he’d seen Edgar, and then his laugh turned to screams. The fat fuck deserved it. He only wished he’d been able to hear his pleas for mercy.

     The little girl huddled in the corner, hiding her eyes. It was more because of what he had done, than how he looked. Kids didn’t usually think the way adults did. They saw his twisted face, his eyes placed where they didn’t belong, his missing ears… they were curious, but until an adult pulls them away, hurrying them down the street and away from the monster, they aren’t afraid. Now this girl would forever have nightmares of the man that murdered Santa. Even if Santa was the real monster that had tried to touch her no-no spot.

     He almost left her where she was. The police would take the child home and he didn’t need the trouble. But when Edgar turned to walk away, the girl got up and ran after him, latching onto his hand.

     “No,” Edgar said, trying to shake loose. She let go long enough to hold out her arms. She wanted him to pick her up. He turned again and tried to walk away, only to find her hand in his again. He looked at her and for the first time noticed her unkempt appearance. Her clothes were shabby and ill-fitting. She also looked hungry. He closed his eyes, trying to get an impression of her life. What he saw chilled him. He picked her up and took her with him, hurriedly leaving the alley. He wouldn’t allow the police to take her from one nightmare, only to return her to another.

The Shelf Elf

 

It showed up on our door, Thanksgiving Day. I was washing the last of the dinner dishes, relieved that my house was finally getting back in order, when the doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” I yelled, not really expecting anyone to move anyway, as heavily dosed as they were with tryptophan. I opened the door and he was leaning against a small, potted Christmas tree. That was new too. I picked them both up and looked around. I didn’t see anyone.” 

“What’s that?”

I glanced up to see my husband standing in front of me. I held the doll up, “Knee Hugger.”

Walter raised his eyebrows. “A shelf elf? Really?”

“He’s kinda cute…”

“Creepy, if you ask me.”

I looked at the toy, then sighed, “Yeah, uber creepy, but hey, he comes bearing gifts.” I held up the Christmas tree.

“Well that’s… going to be dead within a week.”

“What’s going to be dead in a week?” My daughter looked up from her phone, curious. Her hair was dyed black, the same color as all her clothes. She gasped when she saw the doll. “Is that an Elf On The Shelf?” She jumped up and pulled it from my hand. “Jason’s family puts one of these out at Christmas.”

I should have known… if Kathy were excited about anything, it had to involve him; one more reason for me to despise this unexpected visitor.

“Where did it come from?” Ben asked, and then before I could answer, “I bet Aunt Ellen.”

“Why do you say that?” Kathy asked.

“Because it’s an Elleny thing to do,” Ben said, “and she and Uncle Bob were the last to leave today.”

“Seems logical.” I set the plant down on the coffee table and looked at it, ruefully. Walter was right, I had what he had begun referring to as a black thumb.

“Are we going to put it out?” Ben asked. He knew my aversion to creepy looking dolls. Everyone did. Which of course is why my sister-in-law would have left it, the bitch.

“Yes,” I said and then when my husband raised his eyebrow, “It will be fun.”

“Ellen will never know if we don’t,” Walter said.

“But I will. Besides, Ellen went to the trouble to leave him for us, the least we can do is use it. I’ll take pictures and send them to her.”

“Pictures?”

“Of all the things he gets into.”

“Here, let me pick the first place,” Kathy said. She looked around the living room and then moved into the dining room. She looked up and smiled. “Perfect.” A few minutes later, Spike, as she dubbed him, was hanging from the chandelier.

The next morning I found him in the bathroom. I opened up the medicine cabinet and his inane, smiling face was staring back at me. He was holding my toothbrush. I screamed. He leered. My husband came running.

“Okay,” my husband said, “no more hiding him where he’s going to give your mother a heart attack.”

“I didn’t put him there,” Kathy said. “He’s supposed to be in the kitchen, making breakfast.”

Smiling tightly, I pulled out my cell phone and took a picture. “Your Aunt Ellen is going to love this one.” Then I took my toothbrush from Spike and shut the cabinet door.

A few minutes later I walked into the kitchen. There were broken eggs all over the floor. “Kathy!”

“What… oh, wow. What happened in here?”

“You tell me.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Ask Ben.”

“Ask me what?” Ben asked, coming into the kitchen behind his sister.

“Did you do this?” I asked, pointing at the eggs.

Ben snorted. “No.”

“I bet you did,” Kathy said, “when you moved Spike to the bathroom.”

“I didn’t move him,” Ben said. “We agreed yesterday that you got to have all the fun…”

“Well I put him in the kitchen with a bowl, a fork and some eggs…”

“So it was you…”

“No, the eggs were in the bowl when I left, not on the floor.”

“Enough!” I rubbed my forehead. I could feel a headache coming on. I pointed to Kathy. “Clean it up.”

“But I didn’t do it.”

 “Fine,” I said, “the damn elf did it. Make him clean it up… but when I come back in here, if those eggs are still on the floor, both you and the elf will be grounded.”

The next day Spike was in the kitchen, on the floor with a bucket and a sponge… the bucket was tipped over and the floor was flooded with water. I slipped and landed on my back. Spike grinned at me. Perhaps it was the light shining through the window and bouncing off the floor, but I could have sworn there was a gleam in his eye.

 

***

“I didn’t do it,” Kathy yelled.

I was sitting in the living room, nursing the bump on the back of my head. Kathy was crying, insisting she hadn’t put the elf in the kitchen and poured water on the floor.

“Ben wasn’t here,” I said. “He spent the night at Mike’s house. Your dad didn’t do it…” I looked at Walter and he shook his head, “and I sure as hell know I didn’t do it. So who did?”

“I don’t know.”

“Well you are staying home all weekend.”

“But mom, Jason and I are going out tonight.”

“Not anymore.”

She clenched her fists together and glared at me. Then she screamed, and ran out of the room. I heard her feet pounding up the stairs and then she screamed, “It’s not fair,” before slamming her bedroom door.

“I say we get rid of the elf,” Walter said.

“Be careful,” I joked, “he might come after you next.” I glared at the elf, which was now sitting on the coffee table, next to the tree. Its smile seemed to grow wider. “I think I hit my head a little harder than I first thought,” I said. “I’m going to lie down and take a nap.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Walt agreed. “I’ll take care of dinner tonight.” He picked up the elf, “and get rid of this thing.”

When I woke up it was getting dark. I’d slept almost all day. Heading downstairs, I wondered why the house seemed empty. A note on the kitchen counter explained…

Ben called. He’s staying at Mike’s all weekend. I told him it was okay. I’ve gone to the store.  Christmas lights.

That meant it was just me and Kathy. I looked out the window, wondering when Walter would be back and noticed something red in the driveway. Curious, I went to investigate and found the elf.

“What are you doing out here?” I picked it up and went back into the house. He was greasy. “Looks like you were run over by a car.”

The elf grinned, his teeth shinning white through a soot-stained face.

 

***

“Hello, Frank? This is Jolene. Walter wouldn’t be there, would he? No? Okay, well if you see him… yeah, I tried his phone, but he’s not answering. He went out a few hours ago to buy some Christmas lights. You’re right, he’s probably buying up the whole store. We’ll probably look like the house in National Lampoons Christmas Vacation. Thank you, Frank. Bye.”

I hung up the phone and drummed my fingers on the table. This wasn’t like Walter.

“I’m hungry.”

“Refrigerators right there,” I said.

“You’re my mother, you’re supposed to feed me.”

“Dinner was ready a few hours ago. If you choose to not come down and eat, that’s not my problem.”

The doorbell rang and I jumped. It was almost 10:00. No one came by this late.

“That’s probably Jason!” Kathy ran for the door and I followed. “You are grounded, so he can just turn around and go home.”

She flung the door open, but it wasn’t Jason standing outside.

“Ma’am,” the police officer said, looking at me, “there’s been an accident…”

***

Walter’s breaks had failed. The officer drove us to the hospital. The doctor’s said he would be okay, but he needed surgery. He’d suffered some broken ribs and one of them had punctured a lung. I kept picturing the damn elf in the driveway.

“Joleen?”

I looked up. Ellen was standing there.

“I came as soon as I heard.”

“You shouldn’t have.” I looked at my watch. “How did you make it here so fast?”

“I was in town already. Is he going to be okay?”

“Yes.”

“You look tired. Why don’t you go home and get some rest?”

“I want to be here when he comes out of surgery.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

I looked over at Kathy. She was curled up on a couch, sleeping. “Can you take Kathy home?”

“Sure. Where’s Ben?”

“He’s at a friend’s. His phone was off, so I left a message.

“Okay. I’ll come back later.”

“Ellen?”

“Yes?”

“Did you leave an elf on my porch when you left the other day?”

“An elf?”

“One of those shelf elves.”

“Good Lord, no. Those things are creepy.”

“Then who did?”

Ellen shrugged her shoulders. “No idea.

 

***

 

I was tired when I came home the next morning. Walter had come through surgery and was sleeping in his room. They had him drugged up and I needed to get some sleep.

“Mom, I’m worried about Ben,” Kathy said. “Mike called looking for him.”

“What do you mean? He’s supposed to be with Mike.”

“He says he never showed up.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. It’s not like Ben to lie about where he’s going.”

“You mean that’s something I would do, not Ben.”

“That’s not what I mean at all.”

“Yes it is. He’s always been your favorite.” She went running out the door then. “Kathy,” I said, running after her, “get back here.”

“Fuck you,” she screamed and flipped me off.

I went back inside. I didn’t have time for this. She was going to Jason’s, I knew that. I didn’t know where Ben was. I picked up the phone and called the police. Then I went and lay down on the couch. If Ben came home, I wanted to be where I could hear him. That, and the elf was sitting on the stairs and I didn’t want to have to step over it… or pick it up.

***

My dream was disturbing. Spike swung from the chandelier while I lay on the dining room table. My family sat around me, each eating something red and gelatinous from a bowl. I tried to speak, wanting to know what was going on, but my voice wouldn’t work. I stared up at the elf, and he started laughing at me. Then everyone at the table started laughing too. Walter stood up and reached down and I felt his hands sink into me. When he pulled them back, I saw that his hand was covered with the red, icky substance they’d been eating. Then I realized whatever it was, was moving, writhing like worms. I looked down and saw that my belly was splayed open and the worms were spilling out of me.

I woke up, screaming. The elf was sitting on the couch, smiling. Always smiling. In his hands was a knife. It was covered with blood.

***

Officer Peterson stood up and left the room.

“What do you think?”

Sergeant Grimes shook his head. “I think she’s doing a good job, if she’s going to go for the insanity defense.”

“She may just be insane. She killed her entire family. Shit, she cut her husband's break line and then held a pillow over his face at the hospital... and says an elf made her do it.”

 

"No," Grimes said, "she says the elf did it."

 

"She's going to get off, isn't she."

“Probably go to the nut house. I don’t know why, but there always seem to be more of the crazies during the holidays.”

“Yeah, but this is the first time I’ve heard anyone try to blame a toy for it.”

The Sergeant shuddered. “Have you seen those things? They’re creepy.”

“We have one at home. The kids have been enjoying it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, well except for Meghan. Last night she woke up screaming. She said the elf wanted to hurt her.”

“No shitting?”

“One of her brothers had put the doll on her bed. You know how kids are… he put it there and then was whispering to her in the dark, so she would think the elf was talking.”

“That’s terrible.”

“Eh, I used to do the same kind of stuff to my sister.”

“Hey, Mark?”

“Yes?” Peterson looked towards the door and the pretty Lieutenant standing there.

“Your wife called. She says she needs you to meet her at the hospital…”

The officer looked alarmed. “Did she say why?”

“I didn’t really understand what she was saying… something about a Shelf Elf and your daughter.”

Eleventh Day of Creepfest

On the Eleventh Day of Creepfest, My True Love Gave To Me



Eleven Vampires Lunching
Ten Trolls a Trolling
Nine Ghouls a Haunting
Eight Witches Brewing
Seven Psychos Slashing
Six Demon Soldiers
Five Creepy Dolls!
Four Werewolves Howling
Three French Fried Eyeballs
Two Corpses Walking
And a Zombie Hanging From A Christmas Tree






It has been a busy and stressful week. I missed my last 2 posts, but I still have several contests going. There is still time to win an autographed copy, (my autograph) of Satan’s Toybox: Demonic Dolls and also one of Satan’s Toybox: Toy Soldiers. (When it comes out.) If you do win and don’t feel comfortable giving out an address to have the book mailed to, you can opt to receive the e-book instead, but since I don’t have kindlegraph, it will not be autographed. Click on the links to enter each one.






I am also giving away 5 copies of The Massacre Before Christmas and Other Cryptmas Tales and a $15.00 Amazon Gift Card. Rules are here.

Now, a short story.

Believe

by Lisa McCourt Hollar

"Contrary to popular belief, angels come in all shapes and sizes, with all kinds of wings."

The words echoed in my head, over and over as I fell. Tia's voice had always been like music. Now it sung to me like a choir of angels and I laughed...or would have if I wasn't currently screaming on my way to the hard concrete below.

My plummet down the rabbit hole came as a result of my being overly curious. I just had to follow Linda and find out what she was up to. The resulting confrontation had resulted in my being thrown from the top of Graystone Manor.

"It seems curiosity does kill the cat."

This voice was deep, cutting through my thoughts like a serrated knife. I recognized Lucus, Linda's lover. How long was this free fall going to take and was it going to be subject to every weirdo I had met, since discovering Jayne was alive?

My best friend. A vampire! And me, a Spirit Glider. At least that is what Tia said. And her request for my assistance to help protect this strange world that connected to the real world had led me to Graystone Manor.

But I was just a human. I can't protect anyone. Sage was wrong. I couldn't be a Glider.

"Sage, believe."

Tia's voice broke my paralysis. What she said was impossible. But so was what she was. So maybe I could...

And just like that I stopped falling...and I flew.

Word Count: 250

FIve Creepy Dolls

On the Fifth Day of Creepfest, My True Love Gave To Me...


Five Creepy Dolls!


Four Werewolves Howling
Three French Fried Eyeballs
Two Corpses Walking
And a Zombie Hanging From A Christmas Tree!

And speaking of Creepy Dolls! If you haven't yet read the anthology, Satan's Toybox: Demonic Dolls, you can read about it here. Then come back here and leave a comment in the section below. I will be giving out one autographed copy of Satan's Toybox: Demonic Dolls and will choose the winner from those that comment. I will announce the winner at the end of the Creepfest. You have to be willing to provide a mailing address. Don't worry, I won't give it out to anyone.

And check back tomorrow. I will be posting about the next anthology, Satan's Toybox: Toy Soldiers and giving you an opportunity to win an autographed copy of that book as well.I have to tell you, I am excited about this one. There are a lot of amazing authors inside this one. Many of the authors from Demonic Dolls return with more horrifying tales, but there are new authors as well. I will be posting excerpts so you can see what is inside and telling you where else you can find these fantastic story tellers! So make sure you check back. Also, be sure to click here or at the top of the page that says Creepfest. There are two other contests there that I am running all week. You will have a chance to win a copy of my Christmas Collection and, or a $15.00 Amazon Gift Card. 

 So what are you waiting for? Go check out the Creepy Dolls, before they Check. You. Out. Muaahahahaaha.

To read from other authors in the 12 Days of Creepfest, click here.

Demented Christmas

For my first blog, and since Thanksgiving is over and the Christmas Season is underway...

Demented Christmas

It was the middle of summer at the North Pole
And Santa Claus's elves were far from their goal.
Santa was a slave driver who always had a whip,
And the slave driven elves were afraid that he'd flip.

Why just the other day, Santa ordered them on track,
Then to show that he meant it, chained Victor to the rack.
He'd turned the wheel and tightened the rack,
Causing pain to shoot, throughout Victor's back.

Then once again, Santa turned it once more,
And from his body, the elf’s legs were torn.
Now Vic's in a chair, no legs to stand up,
If he falls behind, on his arms they will sup.

But no matter how hard the poor elves tried,
They couldn't keep up, and poor Vic would be fried.
The stress from the job caused them worry and pain,
And some of the elves were driven insane.

Duey, the elf in charge of the dolls,
Ripped off a head and threw it at Paul.
Paul, who was tired, at the end of his rope,
Lost it as his kaleidoscope broke.

Beads from the toy, spilled onto the floor
And the two angry elves started a war.
Paul threw himself on top of Huey,
Pounding his head while yelling KABLOOEY!

Huey's head busted in two,
Splattering blood onto Sue's shoes.
Sue had always been a high maintenance elf
And spent a lot of time grooming herself.

The sight of Huey's blood on top of her shoes,
 Caused the vain elf to blow a short fuse.
She was in charge of stuffing the bears,
And began ripping off all of their ears.

She then fed the ears to the murderous Paul,
Making him eat not one ear, but all.
Paul, who was stuffed full of bears ears,
Grabbed hold of Sue and broke a few mirrors.

He smashed her face into the glass
And told her she had a fat, lumpy ass.
Sue fell back on her behind,
Blood in her eyes making her blind.

But Sue could hear Paul off to the side
And with broken glass in hand, paid him in kind.
She ripped his eyes from out of his head,
Just as poor Ted was heading to bed.

She bounced his eyes onto the floor,
Causing Ted to slip on the gore.
Ted grabbed hold of a candy cane
And turning to Sue, he took his aim.

He threw the candy cane at the vengeful Sue,
Aiming for her heart, but instead hitting Stu.
The force of Ted's throw caused it to sink
Into Stu’s brain before he could blink.

Stu fell over, landing on Sue,
The force of the fall flinging Sue's shoe.
The tiny elf shoe flew through the air,
Landing on Ted's head as the other elves stared.

The heel of her shoe had pierced his head,
And Ted fell on the floor, another elf dead.
Santa ran in to try and stop the fight,
A whip in his hand to show them his might.

The elves who were left standing in the room,
Were tired of Santa and singing his tune.
They were tired of working from morning 'till night,
While he got the glory on his Christmas flight.

Besides they knew, he didn't do it for kids,
But for the wealth he received from all of the bids.
Santa was good for the toy stores
And they paid him well to promote their toy wars.

Because of course Santa can't do it all in one night
And only hit a few countries on his yearly flight.
Parents not wanting their children left out,
Buy out the stores, so their children won't pout.

And to produce the toys for the homes where he flew,
He'd enslaved those elves, and some elves he slew.
They were tired of his whip and tired of fear,
And some of these elves were hungry for deer.

For the deer played a part in the cruelty they faced,
Because each elf he killed, the deer got a taste.
For reindeer don't eat only oats and hay,
For they also had Vin’s feet, just yesterday.

Santa raised his whip, to show them their place,
But the elves turned on him, and slashed at his face.
They pulled him to the ground and tore him apart,
And Vincent reached in and ripped out his heart.

Mrs. Claus ran when she'd seen what they'd done,
But the elves went after her, wanting some fun.
Like a piñata they strung her up,
Each taking a turn to swat at her rump.

Finally she broke, and spilled on the floor,
All of her guts, oh what gore!
They made a feast of Santa and his wife,
For forcing them into this kind of life.

Then when they were done and full of their meal,
They contacted the toy makers to make a new deal.
Christmas would continue, as it had been before,
But with Santa Claus dead, the elves ran the store.

They claimed Santa retired, along with his wife,
Off to Bermuda to live the high life.
The Reindeer kept quiet about what happened that night,
Since they didn't want to end up under the knife.

And the elves continued building toys for kids,
while toy stores world round continued their bids.

Copywrite 2010 by Lisa McCourt Hollar