The Sorrows of Santa
Swept up on a sleigh ride beyond her control, young beautiful heiress Josephine de Lilipoos finds herself forced to deal with reindeer, pirates.... and the passions of a devilishly handsome but mysteriously aloof jolly fat man in a red suit.
Josephine swept a tormented hand through her lustrous flaxen locks as she peered anxiously through her ravishing blue eyes at her enigmatic captor at the other end of the bejewelled sleigh. His twinkling yet secretive eyes gazed off broodingly into the far horizon as the wind whipped through the glistening beard that bounced on his bountiful chest. What mysteries lurked behind those two glistening eyes and the fat and red yet somehow regal nose that graced his masculine profile? Why had he swept her up with so little warning on this desperate sleigh ride through the skies? Who was the sinister Krampus that he insisted was about to capture her and sought the famous treasure of the ancient Lilipoos family? All lies, she was sure – and yet, she had enjoyed a level of freedom on this sleigh ride that she had rarely experienced before in her privileged upbringing by her aloof yet beautiful Aunt Mariette de Lilipoos von Marzipain.
She was sure that this Mr Claus, as he had insisted she call her, was holding something back from her – and so the eyes she cast upon him were suspicious, as he turned, booming “Ho ho ho” in that coldly indifferent voice, with his tensed muscles of rippling fat shuddering with passion beneath his fashionable red fur suit.
“Krampus is approaching”, he cried curtly, “We are about to be boarded.” And then again, that cynical laugh cut short his words, and with another “Ho, ho, ho”, he grasped a cutlass from his seemingly bottomless sack and turned to face the vessel which now approached his reindeer-drawn sleigh with defiance. Josephine did not bother asking what he meant; it would not do any good, she knew. She instead flicked a restless flaxen lock from her bright blue eyes and turned herself to face the oncoming ship.
Nearer and nearer the oncoming vessel came, borne black and foreboding in front of an oncoming storm cloud. Soon a wild wind was whipping through Claus’s ice-white beard and Josephine’s desperate flaxen locks, and, as a sudden thunderclap illumined the darkening skies, she could see that the vessel was borne by bats. And then she looked up to see Krampus himself – his mouth contorted with some fierce passion, a sabre in his own hands – and, standing beside her, she saw, with a gasp of recognition – her own Aunt Mariette!
She could keep silent no longer, but rushed impetuously forward to stand beside Santa, barely able to check herself from toppling over onto the reindeer bearing the sleigh. “Aunt Mariette, Aunt Mariette!” she cried. “Mr Claus – he has captured me! You have found me at last! Save me! SAVE ME!”
Claus whirled on her then, sweeping her up into his muscular arms. For a moment he said nothing, evidently gathering his thoughts as his angry eyes twinkled upon her, but then he put her from him: “you fool!” he cried. “You should have kept back! You cannot let them know you are here! You have put yourself in grave danger!”
But Josephine could not be stopped from shouting, and in an instant, the sinister black vessel was upon them and Krampus, laughing – his own, unrestrained “Hewgh! Hewgh! Hewgh!” compared to Claus’s calculated “Ho!” – was engaged in a deadly battle of swords with Santa himself! Suddenly, Santa’s men – the strange little elves – were upon Krampus, attempting to subdue him – but with a sudden fierce cut of his sabre, he threw them off as one, his eyes blazing with sadistic glee. And then he had subdued her captor: “Move another inch and you lose your life, Claus!” snarled Krampus, at the same time sweeping Josephine up in his other bony arm and leaping back to his own vessel.
In moments Santa was back to the bow of his sleigh: “I will find you, Krampus!” he cried. “I will find you and save her – if it is the last thing I do! HO HO HO HO HO HO HO HO HO HO!” And in that final, defiant laugh, Josephine thought at last she had caught a glimpse of the depths of passion that lay within that trim red jacket and the broad chest of this inscrutable man who had taken her halfway around the world....
“Take her below the hold!” cried Krampus, turning the wheel of the vessel in his gnarled grasp. “We must lose him in the storm!”
That's all for now, kids! Tune in next Christmas for even less!
Tim, your links stink, you fink!
- John Bangsund's Threepenny Planet
- Broken Biro
- Poetry 24
- Superlative scribbles
- Kirstyn McD!
- Rorrim a tsomla almost a mirror
- More Sterne
- Cam the man from the Dan.
- Too hot to Raaaaaaandallllllll!
- Erin's Excellently Everlasting Effervescements!
- Slammy Infamy
- Hail Paco!
- Baron Blandwagon, purveyor of cyberbunnies, hawker of Roger Corman, and Misruler of the Multiverse
- The Bolta. Aiyeeeeee!!!!!
- Bad Apple Audrey
- The cartoon church
- Sir Martinkus
- A Zemblanian abroad and at home
- A hodge podge of hotzeplotz
- THE SLAMMA!
- Jottlesby's nottings, or should that be Nottlesby's jottings?
- The Snarking of the Hunt
- Jazzy Hands
- David of Metal City
- David the Barista
- The Blogger on the Cast Iron Balcony
- Be an Opinion Dominion Minion!
- ... and Fel
- His brilliant career - from whale sushi to crumbed prawn
- Jo Blogs
- Yet another Tim
- Was two peas, now three peas
- ... Still Life - now with extra rotating cats!
- An Amazingly Awesome Australian Ampersand!
- Blink and you'll miss 'er
- Red in the land of the tigers!
- Wire of Vibe
- Chase him, ladies, he's in the cavalry!
- The Non-palindromical Editrix in Germanium
- Old Sterne
- The briefs...
- ... and the brieflets
- The Purple Blog
- Blairville, lair of all that is wicked and perfidious
- The enticingly acronymical CSH
- EXTREEEEEEEME WYNTER!
- Mark of California
- Silent Speaking
- Lexicon the Mexican
- ► 2016 (58)
- ► 2015 (106)
- ► 2014 (135)
- Setting Hollywood to rights
- I am holding a bag of poo
- Another exciting episode in this ongoing Christmas...
- Looking forward to your presents?
- Sing along, kids! It's time for carols with the po...
- We wish you terrifying horrifying bad existential ...
- The four stages of the 19th century performance po...
- On dog facebook
- Television versus book versus parent versus Tim
- Things ranked in numerical order of importance
- An observation concerning breakfast
- What do we want? More Russian structuralism! When ...
- Adventures in dream poetry
- ▼ December (14)
- ► 2012 (275)
- ► 2011 (261)
- ► 2010 (288)
- ► 2009 (290)
- ► 2008 (316)
- ► 2007 (392)
- ► 2006 (373)
- ► 2005 (287)