[A Christmas story]
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when i walk down the mall i always shudder when i see them. huge blood-red blobs with dirty white beards and cuffs, surrounded by hastily build crooked blinking threatening constructions, sitting like spiders in their nests, their empty stare extenging into infinity, sometimes they hold a child on their lap, obligated to satisfy embryo's thirst for presents, children stick like leeches to them, and santas mumble memorized lines, like droids, dutifully acknowledging any incoming requests, droning "yes", their glassy stare unfocused, face pale, often complimented by blue veins, rosy chicks powdered by rosy powder, somehow i always think about that pervert serial killer on TV had exactly the same face, same empty stare, he was killed by children, he missed one line, said "No", fatal mistake, his joints were yet trembling, he felt down from his throne, children were swarming upon him as little maggots, dutifully detaching his limbs, unscrewing his screws, unplugging his sockets, looking for presents, merciless in their rage, pulled from his nest he was not scarry at all. |
There are rumours that children attacks started to happen more and more often, children do not believe Santa is real, they want to make sure he is not primitive android as they are, they want to find the magic socket and bring it home. So they bring their little children drills, and when santa is not paying attention and this is almost always, they try to unscrew that hidden clip on his forehead, and open the skull and maybe find magic socket, and then who needs santa.
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last time i was in a mall, i saw santa alone. he was crying. he was drunk and children stole his eyes, they were playing nearby, teasing. wires stuck from his empty eyesockets, face was pale white, this was an old model, i gave him my old eye i always keep with me just in case, he said "thanks, pal, do you have 30WD40, this damned overhang, don't use low voltage". i turned away. he was very fat, his charge will not last for long. |
Smetimes I think it is that we are giving children to a total stranger, relying on its ability to sustain child's faith in nonexistent, and santas just simple robots, non-prepared for this mission, they just love children, or they need money, or they just child-molesting perverts, they sincerely want to make good, but deemed to fail, so they pay for their desire. Most of them are old models, incapable of anything else, they can just sit in their corner, dressed like bearded clowns, happily extending their rusty claws towards shiny new sprouts of youngsters, and sometimes children can be so cruel, some of them know how to switch voltage or shorten the fuses, they grow so fast.
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i was again in a mall, passing by blinking christmas construction,
with mandatory santa sitting at the base of it, and a little child was
approaching him, i saw it with the corner of my eye.
during my launch i think i've heard distant high-pitched sounds,
metal gnashing on metal, pressure lines hissing: i attributed it to my
vivid imagination, i was thinking too much about this things lately,
should start thinking more positive. |
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[11-December-1997]