“Touch him, and you die.” Ash sounds serious. Those three are the most different and, at the same time, closest brothers I’ve ever met. Maybe it’s a triplet thing.
“I don’t feel very loving toward you at the moment, either of you wankers.” I huff.
“We can’t miss the show.”
I smirk mischievously at Ren. “Show? What do you take me for? A circus act?”
“I’m not answering, because I’m a nice person,” Ash has the bloody audacity to say.
I snort as loudly as a pig. “You, Offspring One? Nice? Since when?”
“I’m brutal, but honest,” he retorts.
“You’re a numpty. Can’t even dress yourself. Your t-shirt is on backward.” Ash looks down, and I tap his nose while letting out a raspberry. “Oh, to be nineteen and stupidly naive,” I mock him.
Then I roll my eyes at his growly, “Don’t touch me!”
“Magdalene, sorry to interrupt your Sodom and Gomorra moment,” I tell the woman as I stop a couple of feet from the big throne. There’s a long red carpet pointing the way to it and stanchions with velvet ropes along the sides.
“Do I know you?” Her blown pupils and lost expression let me know she’s had her daily dose of weed already. Coke as well seeing how she is scratching her nose and sniffing. “You can join us if you want.”
What the sodding fuck?
That’s the second time I’ve been offered a threesome this year. Do I screamunicornto people? I am part of a throuple, so perhaps I let out a bloody distress sign in the sky—Batman style.
“Carla.” Santa sounds annoyed as he addresses Magdalene. But his askew glasses and red cheeks dampen the effect. “And I didn’t… This was not part of the agreement we had.”
“And what kind of agreement was that?” Ash takes a step forward.
“Pray, tell,” Ren insists, copying his brother.
Those two argue all the damn time, but when they unite, it turns Shining-scary.
“None of your business.” Santa pushes the hooker off his lap, and she obliges him, walking a few feet away. She looks quite taken by the huge Christmas tree hoisted in the main shopping area between the stores lining the edges on either side.
“Prickly. Shouldn't you be all 'ho-ho-ho' and shit?” I raise my brow at Santa's minion.
“He surely had thehopart down to a T.” Ash glances at Magdalene.
“Is there something you want?” Santa is glowering at us now.
“From you? Hell no. But I need a private chat with your…boss,” I let him know.
“Boss?”
“The Red Snack Attack?” I offer, but he still looks confused. “Jolly McJingles, Merry McMuffin? Mr. Nice Breaking-and-Entering? The Chimney Hunk!”
“Mistletoe Maverick!” Ren adds to my logorrhea of Santa’s name. “Mr. Cookie Jar.”
“The ho-ho-ho fuck no,” Ash says.
“What the hell is that?” His brother scrunches his nose at him.
“That was utterly terrible!” I agree with Ren.
“And your nicknames were good?” Ash asks derisively.
“Yes!” we both reply.
