Classy Saves Christmas – Part 3 of 3

Catch up on Part 1 here.
And read Part 2 here.

“Don’t shoot,” I said to the masked group pointing assault rifles at us. “Whoever you are, we can figure this out without anyone having to die.”

“You wouldn’t be trying to stop us if you knew what these people did to us in that factory, Classy,” the head masked man said. “We all know you’re a good person. And the only reason we haven’t opened fire already is that we don’t want you to get caught in the middle. But this only ends one way. So pick your side carefully.”

“You’re all a bunch of fucking cowards!” Santa yelled out. “You hide behind your masks pointing my own guns at me when I did all of you a favor. You would’ve starved without me coming here to hire you. This whole town was heading down the drain until I brought my business here!”

“Santa, you need to stop!” I said. “I’m trying to get them to spare your life but you’re making me lose reasons why I should. Also, are those really all your guns they’re holding? That’s like, fifteen rifles. Why the hell do you need to carry fifteen rifles in your goddamn sled, SANTA?

“Freedom isn’t a compromise to-”

“Okay, never mind, shut up. Just…shut the fuck up dude.”

The man leading the group pulled down his hood and took off his mask.

“We’re not here to hide. My name is Eduardo. Our faces are only covered up because of the cold. Most of us don’t have any heat in our homes this winter. Also we’re wearing masks because there’s still a pandemic going on no matter how much assholes like you want to deny it but whatever, that’s not the point. We’re all residents of this community who were desperate for work. And you took advantage of that. We worked insane hours for slave wages because we thought we couldn’t do better. But we’re done. And you’re going to pay for how you treated us.”

I was literally the only thing stopping the workers from firing into the warehouse and killing the Clauses. But they were so angry and in need of justice for their abuses that they were gonna sacrifice me too if I didn’t think of something quickly. Part of me couldn’t really blame them if they did. I decided a long time ago that The Classy Alcoholic would follow Batman rules: no guns, no killing, and banging tons of babes that I ghosted as soon as they discovered my secret identity. But I also followed ACAB rules so I wasn’t exactly going to call the police on Santa Claus when I knew he’d just walk away from this without any consequences because he was rich and white.

And then there was Mrs. Claus. I wasn’t even sure if I believed her when she said she didn’t know anything about her husband’s operation. I wanted to…but I had to admit that I didn’t really know her at all. I looked over and saw her crying. There was something familiar in her eyes. It was the look of a person who felt betrayed and left completely alone with nowhere to turn. No one understood that better than me. So I decided to take a leap of faith. ‘Twas the season after all.

“Okay, you can have Santa and do whatever you need to do. But Mrs. Claus isn’t part of this. Please let her go. Oh, and me. Please also let me go, if you don’t mind.”

Eduardo had all of the workers lower their guns.

“You’re really going to walk away from me right now?” Santa asked his wife. “After everything I’ve sacrificed for you? Well fine, you can fuck right off!”

Santa grabbed Mrs. Claus by the waist and shoved her into the crowd of armed workers. Most of them fell to the ground while he took advantage of the distraction and jumped into his sled. He pulled out a whip and started hitting the reindeer really fucking hard with it to get them to fly. I heard Rudolph crying out in pain while his bright red nose flickered. His frail old legs shook but he was somehow still able to get off the ground. The masked workers pointed their guns at Santa again.

“No, don’t shoot, you’ll hit the reindeer!”

Everyone put their guns back down. No matter how enraged they were, they weren’t going to murder the innocent animals that were also clearly being abused by that motherfucker. The sled was flying out of the warehouse doors when I decided to do something stupid, as per usual.

I jumped into the backseat as the reindeer hit max velocity. I felt the familiar sinking feeling I got when airplanes took off but with some added terror because I was afraid of heights and the goddamn sled didn’t have any real safety features. I tried to look around for a weapon but I only saw one giant bag full of harmless toys and another bag full of a bunch of grenades because Santa Claus was a fucking asshole. He didn’t even know I was in the sled with him. I watched him continue to whip his reindeer to get them to go faster. I punched him in the back of the head as hard as I could and my knuckles felt like they almost broke. He was a tough bastard.

“You’re really starting to piss me off, Classy,” Santa said as he turned around to look at me. “You’ve robbed me of my Christmas spirit and I’m gonna get it the fuck back from you one way or another, HO HO HO!”

Santa Claus leapt onto me and put his hands around my neck. I tried to pull him off but his fat sausage fingers were too strong for me to handle. I knew I wouldn’t last long so I used every last bit of breath I had to yell as loud as I could.

“RUDOLPH!” The head reindeer looked back at me when he heard his name. “MERRY-GO-ROUND!”

Rudolph may have been dumb as shit but he knew his name and what a merry-go-round was. He started spinning the sled into a circular flight pattern fast enough to knock Santa off balance. I pushed him off of me and moved toward the front. I needed to get to Rudolph but there were eight reindeer with stupid names I couldn’t remember between him and me. I made the mistake of looking down and almost shit my pants. We were really high above South Tucson and my fear of heights was about to make my heart explode. But I couldn’t let that stop me.

I jumped onto the back of the first reindeer that I think was named Daggle, then onto the next one that was maybe named Dimble. I then jumped onto Pringle, then Venkman, on Cooper, on Cutty, on Dino and Bixby. Then there was my boy Rudolph. I jumped on his saddle and held on tight. He smiled and let his tongue flap in the wind.

“I missed you too, boy.”

I felt a painful sting on my right shoulder. I looked back to see that Santa had grabbed his whip again. He caught me a few times in the back. I could hear Rudolph crying even through the heavy winds. He pointed his nose, so bright, onto the leather straps that tied him and the other reindeer to the sled. There was a buckle that I could easily unhook. Santa kept whipping at me and was hitting some of the reindeer when he missed.

“Hey Santa!” I yelled. “I banged your wife, you fat motherfucker!”

I unbuckled the straps and freed all nine reindeer. The sled fell back down toward the South Tucson streets. There was a giant explosion when it hit the ground, probably because of the grenades that Santa carried, because he was a fucking asshole.

I had Rudolph guide me back down to the wreckage. When we landed I looked up and saw the other reindeer flying off into the night sky. I had no idea where they were going but I was just happy they were free. The flame grew larger in the middle of the road from all the toys that also caught fire. I saw the crowd of masked workers from the factory gathering around the impromptu bonfire. Several children ran out toward it too and put their hands out to warm themselves up. I found Mrs. Claus watching the group of people converge. I put my hand on her shoulder to get her attention.

“I’m sorry about everything.” I said to her. “I didn’t know what else to do.”

“I know. I’m not sure how I feel about this at all. On the one hand, Santa was clearly a terrible person. But also…I really did love him.”

She gave me a hug and cried on my shoulder. And I could feel my penis grow three sizes that day.

“Oh my god, did you really just get a boner right now, you fucking pig?!?” she asked.

“I’m sorry! But you look really hot in that dress. Also you’re officially single and we’re both in need of some Christmas spirit, right?”

Mrs. Claus slapped me across the face and walked away. I couldn’t help but feel sad as I watched her disappear through the smoke cloud created by her husband’s crispy corpse.

“Muchas gracias por tu ayuda, Classy.” Eduardo walked up to me while holding a small child in his arms. “The families without heaters are going to use that fire to make it through the night. And don’t worry, we’ll tell the cops that Santa fell out of the sky because of some freak accident with his sled.”

“If I had known what he was doing to everyone here for all these years I would’ve intervened sooner. I’m glad y’all stood up to him. And I’m sorry about blowing up all the toys in his bag. I know your kids would’ve loved to have a few of those.”

“It’s not even a problem. We’re just gonna have to teach our kids that toys aren’t important. What really matters is our time together and our dignity. And we took back both tonight. If you’d like to join us for Christmas dinner you’re welcome. We can cook carne asada with that huge fire back there.”

I looked over at Rudolph and saw his nose flickering again.

“No thanks, Eduardo. I appreciate the invite but I think I’ll just do what I normally do around this time and get shithouse drunk on tequila at home. But now I have an old friend to hang out with.”

I hopped onto Rudolph’s back and gave him some more neck scratches and belly rubs.

“Good boy. Let’s go get drunk together.”

His nose lit up brighter than I had ever seen before. Rudolph shot up toward the starry, night sky with me onboard. He smiled and let his tongue flap in the wind.

The End.

Classy Saves Christmas – Part 2 of 3

Read Part 1 of the story here

The dark jail cell I was trapped in smelled like shit. There was a single light bulb barely illuminating the room. The kidnappers got me before I could hide emergency reserves of tiny liquor bottles in my butthole so I was growing increasingly sober by the minute. And the worst part of it all was finding out that I was locked up with fucking Santa Claus.

“This is certainly a strange way for us to meet, Classy. I’ve heard a lot about you. You’re the only celebrity I can think of who’s almost as well known as I am, Ho Ho Ho! Do you have any idea why we’re in here?”

Ugh. I fucking hated that guy.

“Doesn’t matter. The number of people who’d love to lock me up is too high to count so asking why is a waste of time. In fact, the better question is why you’re here.”

“No idea. Our circles have never overlapped so I don’t know why these terrorists would associate you with a Claus. Is there any connection between us that you can think of?”

“Um. Not…no, definitely nothing that I can come up with at all. Like I said, doesn’t matter, I’m gonna find a way to pick that lock. I bust out of prisons way worse than this all the time.”

“Wait, listen, someone’s coming.”

A man in a dark hood and face mask walked out of the shadows and approached the bars. He had an assault rifle slung over his arm and a ring of keys attached to his belt.

“That’s my AR-15 you sonofabitch!” Santa Claus yelled at the masked man. “You let me out of here right now or every single one of you thugs is gonna regret ever being born!”

“Shut your goddamn mouth, Santa. I’ll deal with you in a minute. We have your wife in a cell next door so calm your ass down if you know what’s good for you. First I need to talk to you, Classy. What were you doing at that bar tonight with Mrs. Claus? Are you working with these people?”

“Wait, what bar with Mrs. Claus?” Santa asked me. “How do you know my wife, Classy?”

“Oh. Um. Well. Mrs. Claus and I just met earlier tonight. For the very first time ever. Coincidentally. At the same bar. And oh no! Look at that, I just dropped my phone on the ground and oh no! I accidentally just stomped on it really hard a bunch of times. What a bummer because all my texts and pictures from the past year are all erased forever because I don’t back anything up. Anyhoozle, I’m sure this is all just a big misunder-”

Santa reached his arm through the bars and grabbed the masked man by the throat. His big fat sausage fingers were stronger than they looked.

“Santa, no, let him go!” I tried to stop him but he was too fast and too strong. I heard the sound of cracking bone and the masked man went limp in Santa’s hand. He grabbed the keys from the dead guy’s belt and tossed the corpse aside.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I asked. “I could’ve gotten us out of here without anyone having to die.”

“Please, Classy! Don’t go pussy on me. These scumbags were going to kill us and I’m not willing to die for anyone. Just so you know they hijacked my sled and stole all the weapons I had stashed inside. So they’re armed and we’re not. If you want to survive this you’ll have to do whatever it takes.”

“First of all why in the literal flying fuck does Santa Claus need to go around strapped?”

“Well, first of all it’s my God-given right as an American to conceal and carry. And secondly, you don’t know what it’s like to have to deliver presents all over the world. I end up in some really shady neighborhoods all the time. You know you’re there when the letters are way longer than normal. Bunch of greedy little shits. They’re probably taking most of the presents I drop off and trading them for drugs. So I need to make sure I can protect myself at all times.”

“Wow. Fucking WOW. You deliver presents to children you goddamn prick!”

“I love children. It’s their thug parents I can’t stand. Now you can do whatever you want but I’m going to find my wife. The poor thing is probably bound and gagged and terrified.”

“Ummmm…yes. Totally. Getting tied up is definitely very scary and not at all sexy for her, like, at all. You would know. Because you know her best. Better than…anyone.”

Santa picked up the AR from the masked man’s corpse and made his way through the halls of this old, shitty warehouse like he knew exactly where he was going. I decided to follow because I really did want Mrs. Claus to be okay. We passed by a few more jail cells, a storage room with some whips and chains, and several stockades. And I know that some of you are thinking this sounds a lot like my apartment. But I assure you it wasn’t the same. This fucked up warehouse wasn’t set up for fun.

I came across the familiar sight of Mrs. Claus in handcuffs but for non-sexy reasons this time. Santa let her out of her cell and they embraced in a way that made me think she really might love him. Or maybe she was just putting up appearances and mostly wanted to bang me again instead. Who knows?

“Hello again, Mrs. Claus,” I said, trying to be all nonchalant and shit. “Nice to see you again after our extremely brief, coincidental meeting earlier tonight for the first time at an adult drinking establishment.”

Fucken nailed it.

Santa led us into a room that housed a massive production facility with assembly lines everywhere. I saw chains and shackles on the ground where the worker stations would normally be. The place was freezing cold and everything was so rusted and filthy that I would’ve sworn no one had been in there for at least fifty years. But I stopped when I saw a doll’s head on the floor that looked new. I kept looking around and noticed pieces of several other toys. Building blocks, action figure limbs and race cars were everywhere and mostly clean except for a few tiny marks of soot.

“We’re almost out of here,” Santa said. “The reindeer and sled are in the outgoing product area. If we just open the garage doors we can fly out of here.”

“Wait!” I yelled. “We’re in your toy factory right now, aren’t we? You really run your business like this?”

Santa scoffed and started to walk away from me. I grabbed his shoulder to stop him but he turned around and shoved me hard enough to knock me on my ass.

“Don’t talk to me about how to run a business, Classy. I’ve been the beacon of hope, love and salvation for way longer than you’ve even been alive. Keeping that shit going takes the kind of manpower you can’t even fathom.”

“So you keep your elves chained up here and work them to death?”

“No one is forced to work for anyone! And actually I don’t employ elves anymore because they kind of have a shorter lifespan than you’d think and, yeah, they pretty much all died so I had to move my operation to South Tucson several years ago out of necessity. I used to have a steady stream of Mexicans ready to fill up this whole facility at any given time. But now I have trouble getting staff in here because no one wants to work anymore. Being me is harder than you’ll ever know.”

I stood up and slowly approached Santa. I had no idea what I was going to do but I was too angry to care. He held his assault rifle in front of him, ready to use it if needed.

“You don’t scare me. And I’m gonna make sure you pay for what you’ve done to these people,” I said. I turned to Mrs. Claus. “Did you know about all of this?”

“I swear I didn’t, Classy! This is horrifying and I promise I’ve never been inside of the factory. I was never allowed.”

“Cut the shit!” Santa said to his wife. “You’ve been reaping the benefits from my job and status for over a decade now. This business keeps your fine ass in designer dresses and fancy jewelry. You’ve always been an expensive habit and I do this to keep you happy. So don’t act like you’re too good for me all of a sudden.”

I fucking lost it after that. I ran toward Santa and punched him in the face. He stumbled but tried to aim his assault rifle toward me. I grabbed it and pointed it at the ceiling as he pulled the trigger. He was strong as hell but I held the gun away for as long as I could. The rounds went everywhere and the ricochets echoed through the room.

The rifle clicked empty and I was about to beat the shit out of him when I heard the sound of a warehouse door opening. Two more hooded men in masks with AR-15s walked into the production facility. They opened fire as Santa, his wife, and I hit the ground. We dodged the bullets by crawling toward the outgoing product area. We saw the nine reindeer and the sled when we walked into the room. I could tell Rudolph recognized me and was super excited to see me again.

“Hey bud!” I said as I gave him some scratches on his head and some belly rubs. “Did you miss me, boy?”

“Ummm…how do you know Rudolph?” Santa asked me as he looked over to his wife, then to his reindeer, then back to me, then back to his wife, then back to me.

“Oh. Yes. Welp. We met a while back…at a beer fest. Yeah. That’s it. He and I used to get trashed at beer fests together. A long, long time ago.”

I gave Mrs. Claus a sexy wink to indicate that I fucken nailed it.

“Okay but why did you just very obviously wink at my wife after you said that?” Santa asked me.

I was about to give another suave, discreet answer but I was interrupted by the sounds of several warehouse garage doors opening behind us.

We looked outside and were confronted by about a dozen more hooded people with facemasks all pointing assault rifles at us. One person from the group stepped forward.

“Step away, Classy!” the man said. “We’ll deal with you later. But first, the Clauses must die!”

To Be Concluded…

Classy Saves Christmas – Part 1 of 3

I fucking hate Christmas. I’ve gotten pretty sick of hearing the exact same songs every year for the entire three and a half decades that I’ve been alive. Baby Jesus Christ himself was listening to “Jingle Bell Rock” on the day he was born and somehow I still had to hear that shit over the speakers today in the Macy’s while I was trying to buy slippers.

I sat at the bar at Tucson Hop Shop sipping my barrel-aged imperial stout while I waited to meet the woman who texted me earlier that night. Part of me hoped that she wouldn’t actually show. I hadn’t heard from her at all since last Christmas but of course I never blocked her number or even deleted her off my phone. I thought about it a few times as it got closer to the holiday season and just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I tried so hard to convince myself to ignore her message from today. But I’ll never deny how pathetically easy it is for me to fall back into old patterns. And anyone who knows me knows I’m a sucker for a gorgeous, middle-aged trophy wife with a fat husband who takes her for granted.

So there I was, patiently waiting at the bar like a sucker. I knew her husband basically lived at work during Christmastime and that she had to spend her holidays all alone. Except for last year, of course.

My sense of smell isn’t that great anymore after all the drugs I did in my youth with my Cousin Chico but I recognized her cinnamon-scented perfume immediately. She was never hard to spot in a crowd. She put her hand on mine and I saw the same bright green nail polish that she was wearing when we first met. Her body still looked stunning in her form-fitting red dress and she was still wearing one of those dumb oversized black belts around her waist.

“Hello again, Classy.”

“Hello, Mrs. Claus,” I said, as I pulled my hand away from hers.

“So formal of you. You really aren’t going to use my first name?”

I ignored her question and took a long sip of my beer. Most people think Santa Claus spends all of his time in the North Pole but the truth is that he and his wife are snowbirds. They keep it pretty quiet for obvious reasons but if you get to know the right people they’ll tell you about the massive toy factory he runs in South Tucson. I never knew the exact location and never cared enough to ask. A guy like me doesn’t have much in the way of Christmas spirit. But I found some last December 23rd when I happened to meet Mrs. Claus at a dive bar. We were both there to do some holiday sad-drinking and she was already a few shots in when we struck up a conversation. It didn’t take long for her to open up about how lonely she got every time she had to come back to Tucson for the winter. She hadn’t seen Santa in almost a week and she wouldn’t again until the early hours of the 26th when he came home exhausted and went right to bed.

Looks like she didn’t have much in the way of Christmas spirit herself. So I bought her a couple more drinks, danced with her (badly) a bit and got an invite back to her house out in the rural parts of Southern Arizona. Neither of us were in any condition to drive but luckily she was able to use the sled for a few nights before her husband needed it for work. She introduced me to all nine of their reindeer who flew us to her place but my ass was too drunk to remember their names. Especially because they were all some weird shit like Donden and Bliggle and Cumin or whatever.

I remembered Rudolph though. The poor guy was really old and dumb as shit. The only thing he was naturally good at was guiding the sled but otherwise he just stumbled around the house running into things. He had his own water bowl but he still went into the bathroom to drink out of the toilet. And his antlers got him stuck in the toilet seat like a dumbass. The other eight reindeer were kinda dicks and made fun of him a bunch. And as a guy who frequently did really dumb shit while drunk I felt like I could really relate to him. Plus my nose is also constantly bright red from all the damn whiskey I consume.

So Mrs. Claus and I spent an amazing night together. We talked, laughed, drank hot cocoa by the fire and I even got to wear one of Santa’s hats while she and I banged which is not a thing I ever thought I’d be into before then. But it wasn’t even twenty four hours later when she told me I had to go. She had to take the reindeer and sled to her husband at the toy factory. She dropped me off at my apartment first and kissed me goodnight. I asked if I could see her again and she gave me a wink and a “maybe.” But then I didn’t hear from her all year.

Until now. It was December in Tucson again. The weather was warm as hell for weeks but today was the first time it was actually cold in the early evening. I was at home about to get completely obliterated on whiskey and eggnog in front of a Golden Girls binge watch when I got the text from Mrs. Claus. She practically begged me to come meet her somewhere. And I couldn’t pretend that I didn’t want to see her again.

“What can I do for you?” I asked, trying to play it cool while knowing that I was becoming increasingly nervous.

“All business, I see,” she said. “Did you lose your ability to make small talk in the last twelve months?”

“I lost a lot of things in the last twelve months.” She could see that being here was getting difficult for me.

“I’m sorry, I’ll get to the point. I need a favor and I know it’ll be the last thing you’ll want to do but will you listen?”

I started to get a sinking feeling in my stomach.

“I’ll listen for as long as it takes me to drink this pint,” I said while holding up the IPA that the bartender had just poured me.

“My husband’s disappeared and I need you to help me find him.”

I chugged that entire beer as fast as I could.

“Oops, I guess we’re out of time.”

I walked outside but got stopped in my tracks by Mrs. Claus’ hand on my shoulder. She grazed her index finger on my neck and my feet immediately felt cemented to the ground.

“I’m sorry, I know this is strange but if I could ask anyone else for help I would. I’ve been coming to Arizona for years and I barely know anyone, much less someone with the connections you have. Every trip here is the same. I just sit at home alone with the reindeer while Santa works. I watch so many Christmas movies on TV wishing I could celebrate with someone. I’m Mrs. Fucking Claus and I haven’t had a real Christmas in ages. Last year was the first time I gathered up the courage to go out on my own. I’m really glad I met you that night but I just didn’t know what to do with myself after what happened. And I decided that this year I’m telling Santa that I want him to retire. I can’t keep living like this.”

I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her. A part of me even wanted to do what she was asking. But to help someone actually fix their failing marriage? It was against everything I stood for.

“Classy, please,” she said while my back was still to her. “I don’t know what to-”

The sound of her voice became muffled. Before I could turn around I felt the unfortunately familiar sensation of a fist punching me in the back of my head. My knees buckled and everything went dark before I could fight back. My face was covered by a black bag and two people grabbed my arms on either side. I got thrown into the back of a van that peeled out of the parking lot.

“Hey y’all, I’m not sure who you are and if you’re taking me to a place to get murdered or whatever, which is cool, I don’t mind, but do you think we can stop and get some tacos on the way?”

I felt the unfortunately familiar sensation of the butt of a rifle bashing me on the side of the head. Pretty much all the other kidnappers who snatched me up and put me into a van before had the courtesy to stop and get me food on the way to their murder dungeons. So right away I knew these people meant business.

The car eventually stopped and the kidnappers led me somewhere while the bag was still on my head. I heard the unfortunately familiar sound of a jail cell door opening and closing. The zip ties that were holding my wrists together got cut off. I pulled the bag off my face and tried to look around but my eyes needed a second to adjust to the dark.

“HO HO HO! If it isn’t The Classy Alcoholic,” said a boisterous voice behind me. “I don’t suppose you came to rescue me?”

A white-bearded, jolly, fat fuck in a red suit stepped out of the shadows.

To Be Continued…