Christmas on Crack (3 page)

She
said, “Oh, silly man, I know all about you. I know your real name isn’t Nicolas
but I do know you’re a saint. Well, you used to be, anyway. So sad to hear what
happened.”

Still
staring at the hypnotic cleavage, Santa Claus tried shaking himself out of
whatever witchcraft the woman had him trapped in. How did she know who he
really was? How did she know what had happened to him all those years ago?
There were perhaps five people, maybe six, who knew about his losing his sainthood
back in ’23.

The
woman shook her chest. “It was nice of the council to let you keep your job,
you know, after everything.” “Who are you?” he said. “Do I know you?”

Santa
felt the tip of his nose touch her chest. He smelled peppermint, sweat, and..
.what was that? Talcum powder?

She
giggled, flashing her tiny white teeth. “Know me? Oh, silly, of course not. Why
would you know little old me? I’m just a boring girl from a boring town.” She
leaned in close, nearly smothering Santa between her breasts.

As
he spoke, Santa felt his lips tingle against the woman’s skin. “What are you
doing to me?”

“Oh,
silly.
I’m
not doing anything to you,” she said,
as she grabbed the back of Santa’s head and pushed it down to her crotch.

IV.

“Mrs.
Claus,” the naked elf said. “My name is Aleph. I believe you spoke to my
associate, Gimel.”

Diana
stood up and offered Aleph her hand. “Hi, nice to meet you. Yes, I talked to
Gimel this morning about my husband.”

Aleph
shook her hand quickly. He looked at Smitty and then back at Diana. “Before we
get down to business, are you available to speak now? What I mean to say is,
I’m not at liberty to speak about this in front of anyone but you.” “Oh, yes
well, Smitty was just leaving,” she said. She smiled at the squidfoot. “I’ll
talk to you later, hon, okay?” Smitty nodded and walked into the street,
sliding across the snow on his tentacle-feet.

Diana
said, “So, yes, I talked to Gimel this morning.” “Yes, unfortunately he wasn’t
able to meet with you personally. Being his supervisor, I’ll brief you on the
current situation.” Aleph pointed to a chair. “May I?”

“Of
course.” Diana motioned with her hand for him to sit. When he did, she noticed
that, despite his having a rather long penis, he lacked a scrotum.

Aleph
handed her a folder and said, “Though our organization is known for solving
these sorts of.. .problems, we really get no pleasure in relaying this
information. It’s simply a job that needs to be done and we are willing to do
it. I know it’s a rather difficult thing to deal with, being a spouse of—”

Diana
said, “I don’t need the ‘poor wife’ speech. Just tell me what you have to tell
me.”

Aleph sighed. He opened a folder that appeared out of thin
air. “Okay. Here’s where we’re at
 
”

V.

Santa Claus
felt like crabmeat squeezed into a sweaty leather glove. There was something
coming out of the darkness. There
were..

Sugarplums.

Sugarplums
covered in vulgar snail shells spinning on axe blades. Sugarplums rolling like
dice across the pudding-covered floor. Sugarplums giving birth to Saturn’s
rings spinning out of control, spinning into other sugarplums made of hairy
flaps of pink meat. Sugarplums with legs running to other sugarplums with arms,
colliding to form Siamese chunks of quivering fruit-flesh. Sugarplum snowflakes
falling like unlucky jumpers from skyscrapers that burn like Yule logs.

What
the hell is happening?

Santa
closed his eyes, saw starbursts and tasted copper. He tried spitting out the
mouthful of liquid pennies but couldn’t do it.

He
opened his eyes. The sugarplums were still there. Some of them now wore wooden
masks while others were covered in sheep skin and goat horns. Those fucking sugarplums
were going to drive him insane.

How’d I
get here?

Oh
yeah, that woman. That beautiful woman. The angel. Oh my god, those tits, I
remember those tits. Where the hell is she? Those sugarplums sorta look like
tits. Angelic tits ready to burst...a milky supernova.. .all over my face....

Santa
felt a hand on the back of his head and he was shoved straight into the sheep
skin sugarplums, which were now twisting into tentacles of red meat.

A voice reverberated through the void. “Eat
___
”

And
Santa started to eat.

VI.

Diana Claus
closed the folder full of photographs. She lifted a hand to her forehead and
then ran it through her hair. “I can’t believe that bastard. After all the
promises,

all that
shit.”

Aleph
nodded but did not reply even though he knew that Mrs. Claus expected him to.
But he hadn’t been hired to be a marriage counselor.

She
said, “Who is she? Another Russian slut?”

“No,
she is not. Who she is exactly, well, we have not been able to confirm
anything. As far as we know, she is just a woman from town, from your husband’s
last stop, I mean.”

Diana
turned her head and looked at the family photos hanging on the wall. “Well, I
want it to be his last stop for good. You do know what I’m talking about,
right?” Aleph nodded. “I do.”

“So
you’ll do it,” she said.

“I
will but only if that’s what you really want. I’ll meet with my team, discuss
the consequences of that action and we will bring it to you in writing. If you
still would like to go through with hiring us for that additional task, we will
do the job and do it well.”

Diana
nodded.

“Then
I’ll be back in a half hour with the paperwork.” “Okay.”

Aleph
stood up and started for the door. He stopped. “One more thing.”

“Yes?”

“This
woman, she acted like she knew your husband even though he seemed to have no
idea. Does she look familiar to you?”

Diana
reluctantly opened the folder again and perused the photographs. “No, I don’t
think I’ve ever seen her before.” Aleph frowned and continued on his way out of
the room.

VII.

Santa’s
mouth burned. His lips, his tongue, hell, even his teeth felt like they were on
fire. What the hell did she do to him? All he could remember was being shoved
down face-first into her crotch, forced to suck and lick his way through three
hours of warm, wet suffocation. He had only the slightest recollection of
something else.

Sugarplums?

There
was a flood of musky peppermint goo that left him gagging and gasping.

He
looked around but saw nothing in the darkness. It was cold but dry so he wasn’t
out in the snow. Was he in a bed? Santa moved his arms around, hoping to feel
expensive Egyptian cotton, but instead found himself engulfed in what felt
like taffy.

What
the hell is going on?

Though
he had ceased to believe in the god of his fathers, Santa thought maybe the
woman was some sort of avenging angel that had come down to punish him for his
past infidelities. But that didn’t make sense. Would an angel force a sinner to
pleasure her?

Maybe.
Santa hated having to speculate. He valued simplicity and hated when shit got
complicated.

A
clip-clop sound echoed around him. The sound was familiar.

What is
that?

Santa
racked his brain trying to identify the sound. First he thought it might be the
reins of the reindeer but that was more of a slap-slap sound, not a clip-clop.
Then he thought it might be horse hooves but that didn’t seem right. As the
clip-clop sound got louder and louder, he

finally
identified it.

High
heels.

The
clip-clop sound ceased and was followed by a click. Bright lights shocked Santa
and he found himself looking at the woman’s hips, tightly hugged by her
business suit. “What did you do to me?” he said.

The
woman crouched down so she was face to face with him. “I made you eat my pussy.
Is your memory that bad?” Santa shook his head and looked around. He was lying
on a bed made of a dark red substance that did resemble the taffy it felt like.
It didn’t look edible, though. There was an odd metallic look to it as if it
were robot puke. “Why?” he said.

She
laughed. “Why did I make you eat my pussy? Oh my, that’s a simple question.
It’s because I wanted my pussy eaten. I wanted to have an orgasm. What other
reason would there be? You think maybe I thought the Easter Bunny lived inside
my twat and wanted you to speak to him?”

“Who
are you?” Santa said, intentionally ignoring her question. If he was going to
get some answers, he had to be stern.

“Well,
that’s a tough one, dear oh dear, as people call me

different things depending on
............
” She rolled her eyes.

“Well,
whatever. You can call me Kay.”

When
Santa had asked the question, he hadn’t really wanted to know her name as much
as what the fuck she was doing to him. “What now?”

Kay
laughed. “You want to leave, dearie? Really? Just think about that. Examine
your feelings for five minutes and then I’ll come back and you tell me if you
really want to leave. Okay?”

With
more clip-clopping, Kay left the room, shutting

the
lights off as she did. Santa was left in the dark again. This time, however, he
had something to think about. Did he really consider his situation a negative
one? After all, he wasn’t looking forward to finishing his Christmas route.
This was a perfect excuse. He’d been fucking
abducted.
Who could blame him for not
delivering the last batch of toys?

But
was it really a kidnapping if he was being given the choice to leave?

Anyway,
his wife wouldn’t understand. She’d probably think he staged the whole thing
just to get laid.

But
there was one big problem. Despite her beauty, sex appeal, and those glorious, glorious
breasts, this Kay woman seemed dangerous. Santa wasn’t going to trust that she
wasn’t going to hurt him. Magnificent cleavage aside, she could very well be
the death of him.

His
lips were still burning from Kay’s peppermint snatch juice and he wondered if
it had been poisoned. Maybe that was the plan. She’d let him take five minutes
to think about staying while the poison coursed through his body, getting him
closer and closer to death by cunnilingus.

Santa
decided he’d take his chances with Kay. He still loved his wife Diana but he
just couldn’t see himself walking away from this new woman without
experiencing something worse.

If
that meant Diana divorcing him, then he’d have to take that chance.

VIII.

Aleph
nodded to the elf in front of him and then said, “Anything new?’

“After
observing the subject following a woman to her house, which you have pictures
of, he proceeded to perform oral sex on her,” Simon said. He was nervous
because Aleph was the top guy in the unit and was talking directly to him. “We
have a video link up so we’ll be able to show the subject’s wife.”

“Okay,
good,” Aleph said. “But let’s cut the shit. You can call him Mr. Claus and his
wife Mrs. Claus. Sometimes the professionalism wears a little thin.”

“Yes
sir.”

“Mrs.
Claus is leaning towards termination of her husband so once she signs the
papers, it’s a go.”

“Did
she say how she wanted it done?”

Aleph
shook his head. “No, but in most cases, the wives don’t usually bring that up.
I’ll give her a few choices. I imagine she’ll probably just tell me to make it
quick, but to also let him know why it’s happening.”

“And
the mystery woman?”

“I
have to think about that. There’s something strange about her and I’d like to
investigate further before we do anything rash. But if she gets in the way, I
will not hesitate to give the order for termination. We can’t afford another
slip-up like last year.”