Friday, August 2, 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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