Wednesday, November 13, 2019

A Bloody Christmas :: essays research papers

Creative Story: A Bloody Christmas Hurry up Joe! It's 10:15, your fifteen minutes late!" Claire screamed from outside the dressing room with a hint of a New York Accent. Claire was Santa's helper at the mall. "I'm coming!" Joe yelled back. "Stupid kids, I hate kids." Joe mumbled to himself while getting himself dressed. Joe was the Santa at the local mall. Since Joe had just been released from the mental institution for insanity, the cost of the institution wiped him out of money so he needed the job badly. When the job was offered to him he had to take it. Joe was a scrawny man. Not your usual Santa Clause. He had no rosy cheeks or round belly, he didn't have the hearty laugh nor real white hair. His ribs poked out of his skin and his stomach looked like an empty cave. His eyes were pushed into his head way more than most people, the dark rings circling his made his eyes look like they were going to pop out any second. The bones of his cheeks showed through his dry, pale skin making him look like a zombie. "Let's go now!!" Claire screeched at the top of her lungs. Claire meant this time. Quickly, Joe stumbled out of the dressing room in a clumsy fashion. Looking like he had just chugged a couple of kegs, dragged his oversized Santa coat and pants with him hopping they wouldn't fall down and left the dressing room. Joe and Claire walked toward where Santa's hut was while watching a crowd gather around it. "Ya know Claire," Joe said, "I really hate my job." "Really," replied Claire in a sarcastic tone, "Who doesn't hate little brats crawling around on your lap." Joe sat down in his special Santa chair and waited for the first child to come forward. The fist kid was about five yrs. old. Joe thought he was disgusting. The child was wearing cuarteroy overalls with a white turtleneck underneath. The cuarteroys had crusty stains of peanut butter all down the front of his navy blue overalls. Making a revolting contrast between colors. The turtleneck seemed to have lost its whiteness a long time ago. It was imbedded with red pasta sauce and olive chunks glued to the sauce. His face wasn't very attractive either. On his left cheek a piece of spagetti attached to his skin dangled and dried mucus flaked off his upper lip. Joe leaned back in remorse wishing this was all a long terrifying dream. The kid hopped on his lap and in a happy voice said, "Hi Mr.

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