Thanksgiving is safely past, more turkey eaten this year than the last, more stuffing stuffed, more yams jammed down, using both hands, coleslaw in slews, biscuits by twos, all of us too fat to fit into our shoes.
Let’s look ahead to the big holiday that’s coming, coming, coming our way. I’m sure you know just the day. It’s not Easter Sunday, not Halloween. It’s not a day to be sad and listless. I ask you, young ladies, what is it…? It’s Christmas.
Someday soon, we’ll put up a tree. Why only one? Maybe two this year, maybe three! We’ll deck it with tinsel and baubles bright. It’ll be an amazing and glorious sight.
String colored lights out on the roof. Pray none are broken by a stomping stray hoof. Salt down the shingles to melt all the ice. If Santa fell, it just wouldn’t be nice. He might fracture a leg or get a cut, perhaps even break his big jolly butt.
Oh, wait! I just heard terrible news. I hope it won’t give you the Christmas blues. Santa was drugged, tied up and gagged. Blindfolded, ears plugged, and bagged. His sleigh was abandoned out in the yard, and someone has stolen Santa’s bank card. Soon his accounts will be picked clean by the use of automatic-teller machines.
Hark, the sound of silver sleigh bells echoes over the hills and the dells. Look at the reindeer high up in the sky! Some silly goose has taught them to fly. The driver giggles quite like a loon. A madman, a goofball, a thug, a big goon. Something is wrong, any fool could tell. If this is Santa, then Santa is not well.
He hoots, gibbers, chortles and spits and he seems to be having some sort of fits. His mean little eyes spin just like tops. I hope someone soon thinks to call upon the cops!
A closer look confirms his psychosis, and (oh my dear) really bad halitosis.
Beware when Christmas comes this year because there is something new to fear. Santa’s twin, who is evil and mean, stole the sleigh and plans to make this Christmas look like a crime scene.
Pretending to be his good, angelic brother…Guard your beloved children, mother!
Down the chimney, into your home, here comes that vile psychotic gnome.
Reindeer sweep down out of the night, if you look close you can see they are each brimming with fright. They toss their heads while rolling their eyes, these gentle animals are so very wise. They know this Santa isn’t their friend but an imposter and far ‘round the bend. They would stampede for all they are worth and dump this nut off the edge of the Earth.
But Santa’s evil brother carries a whip, a club, a harpoon, a gun at his hip. A blackjack, an Uzi, you’d better run. Lest he pull out his terrible, horrible, wicked ray gun.
They land on the roof, quiet and sneaky. This Evil Santa is fearfully freaky. He whispers a warning to each reindeer. He leans in closer to make sure they hear. “You have relatives back at the Pole. Antlered, gentle, quite innocent souls. So if you fly away while I’m inside, back to the Pole on a plane I will ride. I’ll have a picnic in the cresting sun, reindeer pie, pate reindeer on a bun. Reindeer salad and hot reindeer soup. Oh, all sorts of reindeer goop!”
At the chimney he looks down the bricks, but that entrance is strictly for hicks. With all his tools, another way in can be found for a fat bearded burglar out on the town. From roof to yard to kitchen door, he chuckles about what he has in store. This house has a lovely family sleeping within and he grins one of his most nasty grins.
Oh what a creep, a scum, a looser a louse. He’s breaking into the Edmondson house!!
With picks, loids, gwizzles, and zocks, he quickly and silently opens all the locks. He enters the kitchen without a sound, his chances for devilment truly abound. He opens the fridge and eats all the cake; pondering what sort of mess he can make. He pours the milk all over the floor, pickles, pudding, ketchup, and more.
He scatters the bread (white and rye), and finally he spits right in the pie! At the corkboard by the phone and the stool, he sees drawings the kids did at school. Lainey has painted a kind, smiling face. Lily has drawn elephants in space. Landry’s drawing was not lacking in heart, all three children painted lovely art.
The dastardly villain takes out a red felt-tip pen, taps it, uncaps it, chuckles and then…on all three pictures scrawls the word POO! He always knows the worst things to do.
Mad giggles from him continue to bubble while he gets into far greater trouble. He’s hugely more evil than he is brave. After he loads up the microwave with ten pounds of popping corn (Oh, we should rue the day he was made), he turns and runs right out of the room, because that microwave oven is about to go BOOM!
He prowls the downstairs, so wicked and mean, looking to cause yet one more bad scene. He spies the presents under the tree and he thinks to himself, “I’ll go on a gift-swapping spree! I’ll take out all of the really good stuff, then box up dead fish, cat poop, and fluff. In the morning, the Edmondson’s will find coffee grinds, peach pits, orange rinds! Instead of nice sweaters, games and toys; they’ll get slimy, stinky, stuff that annoys.”
Lainey, Lily, Landry are all still tucked into their beds. Dreams of Christmas filling their sweet little heads. Suddenly a sound startles these sleepers. They sit up in bed and open their peepers. Nothing should be stirring, not even one little mouse; the three wise girls conclude a villain must be in the house! You can call it psychic, a hunch, osmosis…or maybe they just smell this dude’s halitosis.
Down in the living room, under the tree, Santa’s evil twin is chortling with glee. He’s got a collection of gift replacements taken from dumps, sewers and abandoned basements. He replaces a nice watch meant for Lainey with a nasty gift for a girl that’s quite naughty.
In place of the watch he wraps up a clot of horrid, glistening, greenish toad snot! From a package for Lily, he steals a sweet doll and gives her a new gift sure to appall. It’s oozing, rancid, and starting to fizz. Not even this nasty villain knows what it is.
In their cozy holiday jammies, the girls are now on the prowl, they have gone looking for a smell that is really quite foul. Right to the top of the stairs they zoom, making much less noise than moths in a tomb. All three are quite resourceful, crafty and they work well as a team. How dare someone intrude upon their Christmas dreams.
How can these small girls hope to fight an Evil Santa that’s liable to kick and to bite? Are they trained in karate or tae kwon do, can they fight? No. No. No. The answer is no. These girls just refuse to be defeated by their foe.
Do they have army grenades tucked in their pockets? Lasers implanted inside their eye sockets? The sisters had not one weapon betwixt them. Just the knowledge that Santa doesn’t normally cause mayhem.
Down, down the shadowy stairs they all go. The danger below, they can’t comprehend. This Santa has gone far ‘round the bend. He’s meaner than the flu, toothaches, and blisters. But these girls are tough too…they are a team of loving sisters!
The Edmondson Christmas was about to come down with a crash, as the Evil Santa was just reaching for the last sisters stash. On Lainey, On Lily, On Landry they cry; as they move together to take down this stupid guy.
Evil Santa you are such a big fool. You forget that sisters operate on an unbreakable rule. Sisters may argue with each other, they can fuss and they fight. But if you think you are going to make one of them cry, you are going home with a big, big black eye.
Evil Santa stood frozen for one terrified moment, and he saw his maniacal plan go down the toilet. Lainey was biting for all she was worth, her braces latched on to his massive arm girth. Lily was kicking his big beefy legs. He started stumbling around like he was on stilts or wooden pegs. Landry was shrieking out loud for all to hear. Let’s bust his eardrums and get mom and dad down here.
That’s how Evil Santa was vanquished. The Edmondson sisters took him down like a bug to be squished. Dash away, dash away, dash away scum. Don’t come to this house to ruin the holiday fun.
Santa was rescued, cleaned up and un-gagged. They brushed off his suit and let him out of that bag. No time for therapy, group hugs, or strong whiskey. The nights almost over, get out and get busy. The kids are all waiting. Waiting for you. To fix the big mess your evil brother construed.
Isn’t that always the case, the hard truth, the life. No matter your job, your hard work, your good life. You can’t run from family; you just have to endure. All you can do is hope your siblings heart is pure. Don’t be the evil twin, the bitter, the nasty. Don’t make your sweet sibling a pasty. Love your dear siblings, they will be all that you have, in the dark nights when a villain tries to take all you have. Bond together will all of your might, the love of a sibling is worth the fight.
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night.