Christmas on Crack
Read Christmas on Crack Online
Authors: ed. Carlton Mellick III
Christmas on Crack
Eraserhead
Press
ERASERHEAD PRESS 205 NE BRYANT
WWW.ERASERHEADPRESS.COM
ISBN:
1-936383-38-1
Copyright © 2010 by Carlton Mellick III, Jordan Krall, Jeff
Burk, Andrew Goldfarb, Kevin L. Donihe, Edmund Colell, Cameron Pierce, Kirsten
Alene, and Kevin Shamel.
Interior
art copyright © 2010 by Andrew Goldfarb
Cover art copyright © 2010 by Ed Mironiuk
http://www.edmironiuk.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced
or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including
photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,
without the written consent of the publisher, except where permitted by law.
Printed
in the
EDITOR’S
NOTE
- Carlton Mellick III
SANTA CLAUS & THE ELVES OF FUCK
- Jordan Krall
FROSTY & THE FULL MONTY
- Jeff Burk
UNWANTED GIFTS
-
Andrew Goldfarb
TWO-WAY SANTA
- Kevin L.
Donihe
THE CHRISTMAS TURN-ON
-
Edmund Colell
THE ELF-SLUT SISTERS
-
Cameron Pierce & Kirsten Alene
CHRISTMAS CRABS
- Kevin
Shamel
For
some, Christmas is a time of family bonding, Christianity, and awesome fucking
toys. But for me, it is a little more special than that. I view Christmas as the
time of peppermint dominatrixes, elf orgies, snowjobs, and getting drunk with
fat guys. So I have decided to share with you my true meaning of Christmas with
this book,
Christmas
on Crack,
a
collection of magical holiday tales written by members of my family: the
bizarro fiction community. Besides releasing this as a companion piece to my
own Christmas book, Sausagey Santa, I’ve also released it as a way to introduce
my readers to other writers in the bizarro fiction scene. So read these tales
and if you like them check out some of the authors’ books. Underground writers
could use your support.
So,
I hope you enjoy these Christmas tales of bizarro debauchery. Consider it my
Christmas present to you. If you’re good I might give you another Christmas
present next year. But if you’re bad, I guess you’re kind of fucked, because
Creepy Cowboy Santa (pictured left) likes to hang naughty boys and girls . . .
Not to kill you or anything, he just hangs you for a few minutes because he’s
got a strangling fetish. He might even pay you if you let him do it, and that’s
pretty cool. A little extra money around Christmas is always good. It’s a
win-win situation.
-
Jordan Krall
is one of my favorite writers in the
bizarro fiction scene. He’s got a way of writing that is completely addicting
to me, especially if you read a few of his works in a row. I recommend picking
up his books
Squid Pulp Blues
and
Piecemeal June.
By the end of them you’ll be rushing out to get his crazy
spaghetti western,
Fistful of Feet
, and then wishing he could write books faster. Because
work is always filled with characters who have crazy fetishes, I knew he would
be perfect for this book. In fact, if I couldn’t get
Christmas on Crack at all. This book was made for him.
So get
cozy around the crackling fireplace and enjoy this tale of Santa’s encounter with
Ms. Peppermint. It will surely send visions of sugar plums dancing through your
head . . .
I.
Christmas.
What a
pain in my ass!
Santa
Claus picked a flea out of his beard and flicked it into the sky. He pulled on
the reins, cursing those fucking reindeer for not going fast enough, for not
ending his hell sooner. Once a year he had to endure the most ridiculous of
responsibilities which was to provide toys to the children of the world.
Santa
wouldn’t have much of a problem with Christmas if he just had to deliver to
poor kids or orphans. But no, much of his time was devoted to delivering to
rich, spoiled brats whose parents gave them everything they wanted anyway.
That was the worst. Those were the times when he was tempted to take a big old
shit in their stockings. It took every ounce of his jolly spirit to resist the
urge. He had to tell himself it was only once a year, but even that wasn’t
enough to extinguish the hate that engulfed him.
And
shit, this year was just too much for him. His back was sore, his stomach
upset, and his dick, well, his dick was desperate for some action. Mrs. Claus
hadn’t given it up for months, not since she caught Santa with that Russian
whore.
That
was a bad fuckin’ night.
Santa
had ordered the girl from
variety. Wasn’t it normal for any man to want to dig into some strange pussy
every once in a while? It wasn’t that he didn’t love his wife but he had to be
honest about it. After three hundred and fifty years of marriage, the young and
beautiful Mrs. Diana Claus just wasn’t giving the same effort in the bedroom
as she had in the beginning.
So
last year Santa had forgotten to lock his workshop door and Mrs. Claus had
caught him squeezing his jolly red penis into a tight Russian clamhole. If it
wasn’t for the poor hooker bursting into tears, there would’ve been a double
homicide. Mrs. Claus was furious to the point of putting a blowtorch to her
husband’s crotch and threatening to burn his pecker off if he didn’t repent
right then and there.
Fortunately,
Santa dropped to his knees and repented.
He
also agreed to send the Russian girl back to her home country, but the girl
begged and pleaded for him to send her anywhere but there. She said if her
uncles found out she didn’t fulfill her part of the transaction, they’d lock
her in that toxic waste barrel again. She couldn’t stand another week in
there. It had made her brain bubble.
Despite
her own emotional turmoil, Mrs. Claus agreed to instead send the young Russian
girl to
fault that Santa Claus was such a letch.