A Christmas Story (standard:fairy tales, 1874 words)
Author: Anonymous	Added: Dec 12 2001	Views/Reads: 3544/2327	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
It's that time again when Santa wakes his team up. Their's much training to do, but this year the record is on?

A CHRISTMAS STORY (For the young at heart) By Keith Evans 

The snow was falling heavily, Santa quickly checked out his red outfit
before opening the huge barn doors. This was one of the those moments 
he really enjoyed every year. His Reindeer had been in hibernation all 
year and Santa had really missed seeing them all. "Do you think they 
will like my outfit", he asked his little band of helpers who were 
eagerly waiting behind him with shovels at the ready. "Course they will 
Boss", the little foreman replied. "What's he sodding well talking 
about", one little helper whispered to his mate, then continued. "He's 
worn that same bloody outfit for the last 200years, or have I gone 
bloody blind all of a sudden". "SHUSH", the foreman whispered, Santa 
will hear you. "O.K. boy's, get them masks up", Santa then reached up 
to remove the bars across the huge doors. "Why us? Why do we have to 
clear this shite year in year out? I mean, we do the toy's, we do all 
the brewing up, go for his dinners, wash his stupid bloody white beard. 
And what thanks do we get hey; I ask you, and another thing, if he says 
HO HO HO one more bloody time, this shovel is going straight up his 
bum". (It sounded like little Jeremy was quite upset, don't you think 
children.) "Ready to go boss", the foreman shouted from behind his 
mask. Santa pulled open the doors, the stench of 12 months shit drifted 
out into the night air. Somewhere out of the dark came a voice, which 
sounded a little upset? "DON'T TELL ME YOUR OPENING THEM BLOODY DOORS 
WILL YOU", his darling sweet wife shouted from the house. She quickly 
slammed shut the kitchen window, showing her displeasure by shoving one 
finger up at her dear husband. "Sorry my little cherub", Santa softly 
shouted back, his face slightly blushing. 

They all stood at the doors, all peering into the dark barn. It was
Santa who first spoke. "HO.HO. HO, boys, IT'S CHRISTMAS", they all 
waited for a response. "Right, that's it, that's the last bloody HO HO 
HO he will shout". Jeremy rushed forward. Jeremy had to be restrained 
as he rushed towards his boss, shovel at the ready. The cold Arctic 
wind rushed into the barn, quickly giving the usual response from the 
rear of the barn. It was those angelic tones as was shouted last year. 
"SHUT THEM SODDING DOORS YOU GREAT BIG RED FAIRY". "Nice to hear you 
missed me boys. How do you like my outfit", he asked. By this time his 
little helpers were busy with their shovels. Unfortunately one had 
gotten a bit to close to one of the Reindeer, Santa watched him as he 
flew over his head. Yes children, you guessed, it was poor old Jeremy. 
"Right you great big red nosed fleabag, this shovels going right up 
Rudolph's backside". Jeremy quickly wiped off the snow then rushed back 
into the barn. Santa quickly grabbed hold of Jeremy. "Not so quick lad, 
you should know what Rudolph's like till he's had his first drink." 
Santa was of course referring to Rudolph's drinking habits. Most people 
in Lapland were well aware that poor Rudolph was of course, an 
alcoholic. Obviously his red nose is a dead give away if you think 
about it. 

There were of course many rumours about Santa's Reindeer. One such
rumour, which of course was just a rumour I must point out because 
nobody had actually caught them at it was, any god fearing Reindeer 
with a name like Prancer must be gay. And his so-called partner in this 
vicious rumour was of course Dancer. Now children, I must point out 
that it is only a rumour, properly started by those nasty elves. Now 
then, were was I, oh yes. "O.K. which one of you fleabags nicked my 
bottle? Rudolph shouted as he clawed away at the frozen ground. "Don't 
look at me darling", Prancer snorted as she, sorry, he, licked his bum. 
"That's bloody disgusting that is", Jeremy said as he watched Prancer 
cleaning himself. "What is" Santa replied. "Why, that is. Look, he's 
sticking his tongue right up his bum". Jeremy was now pointing at 
Prancer, who was oblivious to Jeremy's observations. "He's an animal, 
that's how animals wash themselves", Santa told Jeremy. At this point 
Cupid, another one of Santa's Reindeer intervened. "Lithen Jeremy, 
don't leth Pranther hear you thaying thath or he will thick hith tongue 
up your bum". Poor Cupid was born with a terrible lisp; it's not a 
typing error I can assure you. "Run off now Jeremy", Santa told his 
little helper. "We have to have some practise runs this evening. The 
usual formation boys, Rudolph up front, and the rest of you as last 
year", Santa was just about to continue when Rudolph quickly 
interrupted. "Theirs no way I am having that pervert behind me again," 
he was pointing his hoof at Prancer. "Now, now, boys. Prancer has 
already apologised for what happened last year. And if you remember 
Rudolph, it was not all Prancer's fault if I recall". Santa was now 
running his fingers through his beard. A habit that usually means he's 


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