December 5, 2023

Merry Myths

Two days after bringing home the life-size Santa Claus statue from J.C. Penney, Vic Laker could no longer deny what his eyes were telling him: it was moving.

The lovely, colorful Santa figure, which stood nearly six feet tall, appeared to be breathing. Its sides slowly moved in and out with a certain organic rhythm.

“What the hell?” Vic asked the cat, but the cat did not respond.

Vic grabbed the phone and called J.C. Penney and told the clerk what was going on and there was commotion on the other end and maybe a scream or two in the background and then another voice came on the line.

“Yes, Mr. Laker, this is Mr. Daschel, the manager. You say your Santa statue is...breathing?”

“Sure seems that way,” Vic replied.

“Mr. Laker! Put down the phone and walk out of the house! Repeat, put down the phone and walk out of the house! I am on the way!”

Vic Laker likes to do what he’s told. That’s why he always did so well with the ladies, he reasoned to himself, even though he had not actually touched a woman in more than a few Christmases.

So Vic picked up the cat, Stubbles, and calmly walked out of the house and into the front yard and he and Stubbles waited patiently while sharing a Fresca. Within minutes a hot pink Dodge Charger came screaming down the street and screeched to a halt in front of Vic Laker’s house and Mr. Daschel and two other men who looked and dressed just like him so it was not clear exactly which one was Daschel and which ones weren’t, emerged from the vehicle and sprinted into Vic’s house.

“Hi…” Vic managed to say meekly as he and Stubbles witnessed all this unfold.

The men carried the Santa statue out onto Vic’s front lawn and donned goggles and then handed one pair of goggles to Vic and a smaller pair to Stubbles and they all put them on.

“Stand back!” The man who was most likely the true Daschel said, and so stand back they all did and one of the men produced a chainsaw and, with one merciless gesture, split Santa in two, right between the eyes and Vic and Stubbles screamed.

And then they screamed some more.

As the Santa statue was bisected, dozens of mini Santas came tumbling out, hissing like snakes.

“Continue to stand back!” The most likely Daschel commanded as he and one of the other guys whipped out flamethrowers and unleashed hell on the mini Santas who shrieked in agony and defeat as they burned and ran in circles before, one by one, exploding in a miserable cloud of red dust.

“Sweet Holy Goat,” Vic said as he and Stubbles clutched each other in comfort. “Is that why that damned thing was 40% off?”

The Daschel who was the most likely Daschel winked at Vic and he and the other two jumped back into the Dodge Charger and sped off.

Vic and Stubbles each pulled off their goggles and looked at the ashy mess. They could detect a faint grin. They could feel a hint of light. --TK