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Writing > Users > Milton > 2007

Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction


The following is a piece of writing submitted by Milton on November 29, 2007
"doesn't actually start with the correct writing prompt phrase, but I figure it's close enough. ;)"

Mahem After The Christmas Party

"I just don't understand why you hate Christmas so much, Milton," Alice said.

"No? Well, it's kind of a long story," I said.

"I've got time."

I shrugged. "Well, it started three years ago on Christmas Eve, when my brother Bill..."

"You have a brother?"

I guess it was no wonder that she'd be surprised; I hardly ever talk about Bill. "Yeah. He's five years older than me. Anyway, it all started three years ago on Christmas Eve, when my brother Bill was coming home from a Christmas party. It was icy and cold that night, and when Bill saw a man staggering down the street, he hit the brakes, which caused him to slip and slide and spin across the street and into the ditch, where he got stuck in a three foot snow drift."

"But the really bad news was that he clipped the staggering man as he spun past, and when he got out of the car, there was the man lying in a heap by the side of the road. Dressed in a red fur coat and cap, and carrying a sack of toys..."

"Your brother killed Santa Claus?" Alice said, awed.

"No stupid. First of all, he wasn't dead. And second, it wasn't really Santa Claus. It was one of those shopping mall Santas, and he'd got drunk on the way home..."

"Which is why he was staggering," Alice finished.

"Yes. Well, Bill wanted to get Saint Nick to the hospital, but he couldn't get his car out of the ditch, so he had to flag down another car. The man driving the car he flagged didn't seem happy about helping out, but when he saw Santa in the ditch, he agreed. Bill, Santa, and the grumpy man drove like maniacs to the hospital. They were halfway there when blue lights started flashing, and they had to pull over for a cop."

"Well, that's no problem - the cop would just escort them to the hospital, right?"

"You'd think so," I said, "but no. Turns out Grumpy was neither a dwarf nor an elf; he had just got done stealing all the money from a Salvation Army kettle."

"Bummer."

"Yeah. And the worst thing is, Grumpy tried to pin the crime on my brother Bill, so it was Bill who ended up doing the time."

"Wow! And that all happened on Christmas Eve?" Alice said. "No wonder you hate Christmas!"

"Oh," I replied, "it's not that it happened on Christmas Eve. It's just that Bill was the only one in my family who got me decent Christmas gifts, and there aren't any shopping malls in prison."

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