As I said on Warpstorm, Merry Christmas kiddies.
So There I Was. . .
The Mall
So there I was, trapped at the end of a corridor of calendars, the security guards closing in, billy clubs ready and willing to beat me into submission. Only a miracle could save me now, and I got one.
Ah, the mall. I hate the mall. That rank smell of consumerism, the crowed halls, the stupid little shops with overpriced pieces of junk that I don't need, but should want since I'm at the mall, the infinite parking lots, and, well, just about everything about the mall. Hell, I don't even like the food courts that much. So as policy, I rarely, if ever, go to the mall. If I'm desperate to find something, I'll go, or if someone drags me along. Otherwise, I'd rather stick my arm in a garbage disposal.
This trip was thrust upon me by Steve and Dennis, my friends from college, and local rabble rousers of New Herrington. Since I found the town, we've basically been the force of anarchy every good town needs, and they, for good or ill, have led the charge. They also make it a point to show me every little thing they think is exciting when I'd much rather be doing something productive, like sleeping.
This day was much the same. After an unpleasant ride in Dennis' car, from what I gather it was a former stock car he bought off some loser driver and redid it for street use (meaning, I should note, no doors, no seats except for the driver, very uncomfortable), we managed to squeeze into a small space in the crowded parking lot and entered the mall. Or should I say hell.
Christmas shopping hell.
Okay, so this is a Christmas story, so sue me. It was also a while back, so the exact details of some of the events are a bit fuzzy. No matter, not like you would know the difference anyway. Anyways, within a couple minutes, and a lot of 'excuse me's' and 'get the **** out of my way's, we finally happened upon a small shop that has since closed (or so I'm told) and the item of interest that dragged the lot of us there.
"Isn't it awesome?" Dennis said.
"A marvel of modern technology," Steve agreed.
I can't remember exactly what I said, or exactly what the thing was, but my general attitude towards it was "Who cares?"
"But can't you see? It will revolutionize our lives!" Dennis probably would have humped the thing, given his excitement level.
"It will complete our lives," Steve added.
"Your life would be complete with a boot to the head," I muttered. "And if it's so damn important, then buy the thing."
"Uh. . ."
"Well, how much do you have?"
"Seven fifty," they said in unison.
"Well see, that's more than enough. It's only $600, and you could share. . ." Steve and Dennis just shook their heads at me. "Oh," I said, getting it finally. "Well, then use one of Herrington's credit cards." Herrington, referring to the honorable mayor and descendent of the founder our town, is our mortal enemy, and we take quite a bit of delight in screwing with her credit rating at every opportunity.
"Can't, the last one bucked out two months ago."
"Then you're **** out of luck," I said. Our system, to insure we can continue to slam Herrington's credit rating without making it impossible to get cards in her name, requires a four month wait between issuing new cards. There are other steps as well, but are so complicated and dangerous that if they were revealed could help destroy the global economy as we know it. Plus it's fun knowing something you don't know.
"Uh, that's where you come in. . ."
"Oh no," I said, backing away from the window. "I ain't getting it for you. Forget it."
"Don't be silly," Steve said. "We just need some back up to get it."
"We have a plan."
A plan? I've know these two for a long, long time, and they don't plan much. When they do, the results are spectacular, usually involving dozens of ambulances and police cars. All those lights flashing at once is a sight to see, of course. Before I get much of a chance to respond, Dennis grabs my arm, and we begin to force our way through the crowd.
"Hey, don't pull so hard!" Our mad dash through the mall, up the stairs and into the food court (the most hellish place in the mall, by virtue of population if nothing else) was unpleasant, especially when being dragged by one arm. "Stop already you idiots, I need that arm."
"Sorry," Dennis said, looking around the room for something or someone. "It's just that we told Johnny we'd meet him here at two, and we've only got a couple of minutes."
"Johnny?" Oh hell. I will admit that Steve and Dennis are a bit off, possibly a little crazy, but compared to Johnny, they're sane. Hell, Hannibal Lector is sane compared to Johnny. If they've got him coming in on this, things can only end spectacularly. Meaning lots of police cars and ambulances. I'd even take bets on the mall going up in a giant fireball.
"Hey guys, how's it going?"
A voice from the past, and one sorely needed in this moment of impending crisis. Misha, the voice of reason from the days in college, melted out of the crowed with her husband, Rob, and baby Ro in tow. Ro in tow, I made a rhyme. Anyway, her arrival was quickly followed by the obligatory hugs, which always accompany the arrival of friends you haven't seen in some time. I don't know why.
"Not bad, not bad," I said in reply. "How are you doing?"
"Great," said Misha. "Business is good, and little Ro is growing up so fast."
"Wow, neat doll," Steve picked a doll out of the pack on Ro's stroller. "What's her name?" he said to Ro.
"That's not her doll," Rob said.
Steve's eyes popped wide, and he gently placed the doll back in the pouch. "Anyone I know."
"I don't think so."
Misha ignored both Steve and Rob. "What are you doing here? I thought you didn't like malls?"
"Not my idea," I said.
"We just wanted to show him something, and get his help for something else."
"He's not buying it for you," Misha said.
"I know, I know," Dennis replied. "Geez, don't you two ever think of anything besides money?"
"No," we said together. I actually don't think about money much, only when someone wants me to spend it for them. Misha, of course, thinks about money a lot. Her degree is in business, exactly which one I'm not sure, and her father was a Jamaican business man who washed ashore in Louisiana a while back. She grew up on a cash register, she used to say, but would have rather handled the books in the back.
"Now it's my turn," I said. "Why are you here? Planning on renting some space?"
"At the prices they charge, no way. I'll stick with the shop in Belleville. We're here, actually, for Ro to see Santa."
"You excited to see Santa?" Dennis leaned in to ask. The child only smiled at him.
"So what's she getting?" I asked.
"She wants to tell Santa in secret."
"Talking already, eh?" Dennis said in between funny faces he made at the kid.
"Not in the conventional sense," Rob said.
"Oh, like that squirrel, how is he by the way?"
"Just fine," Misha said. "He's hibernating at the moment."
Now I suppose I should tell you about Misha. As I said, she was the voice of reason in the old college 'crew,' and often the one person who could get us out of the worse situations. Situations so bad, that only a miracle could safe us from impending doom. So she created miracles. With voodoo magic.
Well, that's what she claimed anyways. Now I'm not one to buy into all that mysticism crap, I majored in physics in college, though I quickly changed to alcoholism, but I've seen Misha do some strange things in my time, some of which could be filed under luck, the rest, well, I won't speculate. The point is, she says she can do magic, and I've seen enough to believe that maybe, just maybe she can. Of course, she constantly contends that she's not nearly as powerful as her mother, who apparently cast the spell that washed her father ashore in Louisiana oh so long ago. I've never met her mother, so I'll have to take her word for it.
Our meeting lasted a few more minutes after that, being slowly dragged to an end by Rob rocking the stroller back and forth in a I-want-to-get-out-of-here fashion. He never really was all that comfortable around us for some reason or another. Not that we were ever really that comfortable with him. It's hard when a man the size of Sasquatch is standing around the little people. No matter, he's cool, and we parted ways.
With a steadier pace, we wandered off down the mall's upper deck to where the three main branches of the mall met and headed off towards the main rotunda type thingy. Looking below, we could see the maze of small booths, including one that sold calendars, a water massage place, lots of knickknack places and, of course, Santa.
"Hey guys! You ready?" Johnny waddled up the escalator, carrying his signature bag and wearing a climbing harness of some type, which is not unlike him I should mention.
"All set," Dennis handed him a piece of paper addressed to Santa. "You know what to do, right?"
"Not a problem. You helping then Quinn?"
"Uh, well I. . ."
"He's in, don't worry, just do your part."
"Cool. Be ready in five." And Johnny began unpacking the bag while Dennis, Steve and I headed down to the ground floor. "So," I asked as we approached the fountain just across from the fat man. "What exactly is the plan? You going to ask Santa to bring you that thing for Christmas?"
"Sort of," Steve said.
"Right, it's not like that's the real Santa or anything. He's just some man in a Santa suit. Which means you have to be a bit more direct."
I eyed Dennis carefully. "Meaning?"
"Look at all those kids," Dennis waved his arm toward the line that wrapped around the small castle that had been built. "Imagine how'd they react to the news."
Okay, these two have gone off the deep end. "You're going to blackmail Santa?"
"It's not Santa," Steve said. "Don't worry Quinn, we've got the whole thing planned out perfectly."
"Well I'm not helping with this," I said.
"All you have to do is stand here," Dennis said.
"And?"
"Nothing, just stand here. If everything goes as planned, we won't even have to do anything."
"If it doesn't?"
"You just stand there."
I'm beginning to hate this plan, mostly because I don't know where I'm supposed to actually fit into it. Just stand there seems simple enough, but I have a feeling I'm not going to be standing there for long.
Before I can raise the issue again, and probably get hit with the 'just stand there' line again, Johnny, good old Johnny, drops out of the ceiling and right in front of Santa. I'm sure the old man nearly had a heart attack, and I'm certain Johnny enjoyed it. With a quick movement, he whipped out the note and handed it to the jolly old elf with a smile. Then he flung a grapple out towards the rafters and began doing a spiderman thing down towards the intersection, various mall security guards hot on his tail.
A spectacular stunt, even for Johnny, though not his best. His best was back in college when jumped between two dorms on a skateboard. Twice. Would have been three times, but the wind was against him the last time. Spent finals week in the hospital. Later he went on to successfully bare hand climb several skyscrapers, Mount Rushmore, and jump off all of them. He's a crazy bastard.
As Johnny swung away, Santa read the note and looked up towards us standing on the fountain. I just kind of stared back, trying to look like a bewildered bystander (something, I dare say, I'm pretty good at). Dennis and Steve, however, were less bystander like, and more threatening. Santa immediately stopped the children from coming up and gathered together the various elves that where helping him. After a short talk, the elves broke away, two returning to their duties, and the other six coming straight for us.
"Uh, was this part of your plan?"
"Sure it was, they're bringing the money directly to us," Dennis replied.
"I doubt that." My suspicions were confirmed when one by one the elves whipped out various blunt objects and began slapping their hands with them.
"I guess they want to fight," Steve said. Dennis nodded and they hopped off the fountain rim towards the elves.
"I'm not helping you!" I yelled. "The elves can beat the **** out of you for all I care!"
"Just stay there," Dennis called back. "We won't be long."
Just as the two groups met, I heard a shout from out towards where Johnny had disappeared. There he was, with several security guards standing around him. He pointed right at me. Now my place in the plan was well established, I was a distraction so Steven and Dennis had time to get to the fat man. Well ****, that sucks. I ran as three of the guards charged at me. Down towards the end of the top of T, then around a staircase and back again, the guards right on my heels. I passed back by Santa's castle, and glanced up to see Steve and Dennis wrapped up in a fight with the irate elves. They were actually doing pretty well. I went behind the castle, where bulk of the line was, and made a mad dash for the other end of the building.
My escape had no plan, which is rare, so I used what I could find. The first thing I found was that calendar booth, and I dove into one of what I thought a passage. It wasn't. I was trapped, the guards slowly closing in on me at the end of that corridor. Those cute kitties seemed to be laughing at my folly, and my fate. If I get out of this alive, I'm going to kill Steve and Dennis, I swear it. Then I'll beat the **** out of Johnny.
That's when that kitty calendar fell down. The racks weren't solid, they were wire mounts, leaving an opening when one is removed. A hand slipped in, and a voice called out. "Hold your breath." I did, the guards didn't, and a blast of dust covered them quickly.
"Now, you will return to your break room and be the lazy slobs you are."
"We will return to our break room," the first guard said.
"And be the lazy slobs we are," said the second. And the three turned and left.
"Could you have cut that any closer," I yelled, popping my head out through the opening. There was Misha, standing there like the savior we all knew she was.
"Of course I could."
"Well thanks for not," I said. Always thank your rescuer, it's only courteous.
"You're welcome, now let's get back to Santa's castle, you're gonna want to see this."
We returned to the castle to see a massive pile on right in front of Santa's throne. The elves were struggling to keep my 'friends' down, and they were fighting back, hard. Despite the 3:1 odds, and use of weapons, the elves simply weren't prepared for the insanity that is Steve and Dennis. They inched their way closer, Santa Claus stood firm, ready for them.
Then something big marched around the corner. As I said, Rob is a big man, like squish Andre the Giant type big, and as he rounded the corner, everyone moved out of his way. He plunged his hands into the pile of elves and pulled out Steve and Dennis, each with one hand, and held them high up by the collar.
"Hey Rob."
"How's it going?"
Rob said nothing.
"I bet you're wondering what's going on, right?
"Nope."
"Ah. Well, uh."
"You were trying to hurt Santa, eh?"
"We were just going to scare him, that's all."
"Yeah, we weren't going to hurt him."
Rob glared at them.
"This is going to hurt, isn't it?"
"Won't hurt me." And Rob carried the two up the escalator and out the front doors.
"Let's get in line," Misha said. "We don't want to see this."
We stood there for a while, as it took a minute for the elves to recover from their fight. Their faces were red and full of knots from the pounding they received from Steve and Dennis. Say what you will about those two, they can put up one hell of a fight when properly motivated. As the line started moving again, we could just hear the sirens of the various emergency vehicles coming to the aid of my two friends.
"Man," I said. "All this because those two idiots wanted to blackmail a man in a Santa suit."
"That's not a man in a Santa suit," Misha said quietly. "That is Santa."
"Excuse me?" Not that I'm one to believe in fairy tales and such, but Santa? No way.
"Sure, why do you think Ro wanted to see this one?"
An interesting thought, and whether I believe it or not doesn't really matter. Misha believed it, and I've seen enough not to question those beliefs too much.
The rest of that December went pretty much as it always had. Except that Steve and Dennis spent most of the month in the hospital. I don't know, nor want to know, the full extent of their injuries or exactly what Rob did to them, but they didn't get out until just before Christmas.
Rob's work, or play depending on how you look at it, was apparently well rewarded. Not only did Ro get the gift she wanted (what it was I never asked), but he got a car, a Dodge Prowler. Very, very nice. And very small compared to Rob. At least he got to own the car for a while, which is more than I ever did.
Johnny spent Christmas in his favorite jail cell. It's really nice, let me tell you. It is, after all, right next to my favorite cell. His little stunt through the mall probably would have kept him there longer, but the judge felt the Christmas spirit and let him out the day after. Though I don't know for sure, he claims he went to New York after that, and leapt off the New Year's ball at midnight. I didn't see him again until the following March.
I went home, as always. I managed to crack one of Jake's ribs that Christmas. I really hate him, have I mentioned that? My Christmas gift was the same as last year, an IOU. I really should cash these in one day.
Steve and Dennis, it should be noted, did get their just deserts, aside from that hellish beating. It seriously made me wonder about Misha's comment back then, about that mall Santa being the genuine article. It would make anyone wonder when the pair got a lump of coal each and a card:
"Next time, just ask.
Signed, Santa"
Makes you wonder.
