I meant to upload this whole story by Christmas, but unfortunately I couldn't quite finish it in time, so here is part 1. I will post the conclusion with a couple of days. Enjoy!
Merry Christmas fanfiction dot net!
The cargo plane flew across the desolate snows toward the lights Category writing Created 11/20/2011 11:03 pm by me The cargo plane flew across the desolate snows toward the lights of the Aurora Boralis which danced over the Arctic Circle.
As the plane reached it's target coordinates, it began to descend until it passed through the optical illusion of faux glaciers which concealed the true location of Clause's Gulch, where the secret complex of Santa's workshops were located. As soon as the plane passed through, the ground suddenly lit up with bustling lights of the mini metropolis.
Santa signed off on a checklist as boxes were loaded onto the back of a semi truck.
"It's kind of early to deliver toys, isn't it?" said Elf #1 in a high-pitched voice.
"This is the hottest toy of the year," Santa replied. "Even I can't meet the demand. That's why we've got to get this to the stores pronto!"
"You can count on us, boss!" Elf #2 said.
An upbeat ballad played as the truck appeared from nowhere, passing through the wall of illusion onto the desolate icy highway.
The song continued over a montage of shots as the truck made its way from the Actic into Canada, then the US. The upbeat music changed to danger music, however, when several pick-up trucks pulled out into the road in front of the Elves' semi truck. "Not these jerks again!" Elf #1 said.
"What do they want this time?" asked Elf #2.
"What's going on here?" Elf #1 said as he stepped out of the truck. "You just never learn, do you?" said the muscular Thug #1, who had straigh hair parted in the middle, a moustache, flannel, jeans and cowboy boots. "Our boss doesn't like you giving out toys for free! You're killing all the competition!"
"You don't care about competition," said Elf #2. "You're just trying to muscle us into telling you where Clause's Gulch is! Well, forget it!"
"I don't like your attitude, boy! Your sad devotion to that old fairy tale is gonna get you hurt!" "It's not a fairy tale!" said Elf #1. "Santa's real!"
"We've got the paperwork to prove it!" said Elf #2, showing Santa's signature on the invoice.
"This is real too," said Thug #2, lifting a gas can. He began to pour gasoline on the semi.
"What are you doing?" said Elf #1 rushing forward angrily to stop him, but the other thugs held him back. "It's an early Christmas gift," said Thug #1. "Why don't let this vision dance in our heads," Thug #1 said as he aimed a rifle at the semi and fired, sending up a massive explosion. "When you're ready to lay something under my tree, you know where to find me ..." *******
Santa stepped off the bus into the seedy Los Angeles neighborhood, dressed inconspicuously in a baseball cap, sunglasses and a Hawaiian shirt. As he looked around confusedly, he was accosted by a man in a dirty Santa Clause costume.
"Ho ho hoooo," said the costume Santa, ringing a bell. The real Santa reacted to alchohol on his breath. "Can you spare some change, brother?"
"Sure," Santa said politely, handing Costume Santa some change.
"Much obliged, sir," Costume replied in a poor fake Irish accent. "Jack Daniels is the name," he said, extending a hand cordially. "And who might you be?"
"My name's Kris. Kris Kr- ... um ..." He looked across the street to see a Krispy Kreme Doughnuts sign. "Kreme. Kris P. Kreme."
"Ah, and what brings you to this neck of the woods?"
"Well, Mr. Lee at the laundromat told me I could find a Colonel Smith here, but I can't seem to find him. I'm not even sure if these directions are right. "Have some business with the Colonel, do ya?" Jack asked.
"Yes, you could say I deal in ... commodities."
"Ah ... so how long have you been in the junk business?"
"Oh, it's not junk. In fact, it's highly sought after, by little childrens all over the world! Unfortunately, I'm having a bit of a transportation issue at the moment."
"Inflation," Jack lamented, shaking his head.
"Money's not the issue, really. You see, there is a group of people who want to see that my merchandise isn't delivered."
"Now, why would someone want to disappoint the kids?"
"I don't know, but they're determined to put me out of business any way then can." He sighed wistfully. "Well, I think I've taken up enough of your time. I'd best be on my way ..." He patted down his pockets, looking for something. "Oh dear, it seems I've misplaced my map ..."
"Let Santa help," Jack said, withdrawing from his pocket a brand new map with a red ribbon. "An early Christmas gift!"
Santa opened the map to see, written on it, "You've just found the A-Team". Santa looked at Hannibal, who grinned misichievously as took off the fake beard a lit a cigar.
The security guard at the entrance gate to the studio greet B.A. as his van approached, a cheery Christmas wreath attached to the grill.
"Name?" the guard asked casually.
"What kind of stupid question is that, fool? It's me, Mr. T! I'm here to shoot the new A-Team movie."
"Today is the first day of shooting," the guard replied, "but I don't see your name on the list."
"It's got to be! They can't make the movie without B.A. Baracus!"
"I see B.A. Baracus on the call sheet, but his part is played by some no-name actor. The camera closed in on B.A. as he sneered, "Dead meat!"
he hit the gas and crashed through the gate.
The metal door to the soundstage was kicked to the ground as B.A. broke his way in.
"Hey Hanni-BULL!" B.A. shouted when he saw the familiar white hair and beige jacket. When Hannibal turned around to face him, however, B.A. saw that it was a black man wearing a white wig.
"I'm just the stunt man," he said. "The actors are over there."
B.A. looked to see famous actor Lesson Needsome doing a scene with the nefarious no-name actor in B.A.'s role, a weak-bodied weenie with an annoying high-pitched nasal voice, although he tried to sound tough.
"Quiet on the set," the director called. "And, action!"
"I told you I ain't be gettin' in plane," fake B.A. said stiltedly, "unless Murdoch is flyin'! Only his superior skills can guide us to safety!"
"WHAT?" B.A. exclaimed loudly. Everyone on the set turned to see his furious face.
"Uh, I gotta take five," Fake B.A. said to the director as he removed the fake prop gold from around his neck and took off the fake mohawk headpiece to revel dreadlocks underneath. "I'll be in my trailer!"
Fake B.A. fled the set and hid in his trailer, shivering as he nervously peered wide-eyed from behind a curtain.
"This isn't in the script," Lesson said as he flipped through the pages of the script.
"Of course it ain't, fool!" B.A. said, swiping the script from Lesson's hands to read it for himself. "Everyone knows I don't fly, especially not with that fool ..." On the script, he read the words "Written By H.M Murdoch." The "H" and "M" names had been spelled out, but were covered with coffee stains so that only the initials could be seen. "MURDOCH?" B.A. exclaimed angrily.
"What are you doing?" Murdoch said irritatedly as he emerged from a corner, wearing an earpiece and carrying a clipboard. "We are on a very tight schedule! Could someone pick those props up off the floor please? Do you have any idea how long it took for the costume department to-"
B.A. grabbed Murdoch by the collar and shook his fist in his face. "This look like a prop, sucka?"
"Relax, B.A." Hannibal said as he approached, Santa following close behind. "Follow me, guys. Face is waiting for us on the set for "Aquamaniac Reborn". h As they cut across another sound stage on the way to the Aquamaniac set, Santa was startled to see a stuntman land on a fake snow bank just a few feet away. The fall kicked up the fake snow. As Santa waved the fake snow from his view, the stuntman apologized, saying, "Sorry pops, didn't see you there."
"Don't feel bad," Santa replied. "When I wind up in the snow, it's only snow. Ho, ho!"
At last they arrived on the Aquamaniac set, which was empty at the moment.
"Guys," Hannibal said, "say hello to Santa Claus."
"Hey, I know that dude!" B.A. said excitedly. "You gave me that gold chain last year!"
"And the year before that, and the year before that ..." Santa mused.
"Like a regular old Jacob Marley," Murdoch added. "You gonna be a ghost in a minute, fool!" B.A. snapped back.
"Nonsense!" Santa laughed. "I'm happy to do it. B.A. is on my good list every year! Mr. Peck on, on the other hand ..."
"You must be hungry," Face interjected, smiling nervously as he diverted the topic. "Can I get you some ... cookies and milk?" "I'm afraid I'm far to upset to eat," Santa answered worriedly. "I've got big problems, boys. You see, I've been losing entire shipments of toys to hijackers."
"Who are they? Thieves?" Murdoch said.
"Worse," Santa said. "They don't just want the toys for themselves. They're destroying the cargo. They don't want anyone to have them!"
"Have you tried contacting the authorities?" Face asked.
"I live in a rather remote region," Santa replied. "Help from the outside is a bit hard to come by. I journeyed a long way just to meet you people. I'm desperate!"
"The elves work real hard on those toys," B.A. said. "If they don't get delivered, a lot of kids are gonna be real disappointed. That makes me mad. Real mad!"
"Then you'll help me?" Santa pleaded.
"You should know," Hannibal said, "that we don't have elves in our workshop. We need money for materials, travel ..."
"Taxes, tolls," Face added, "overheads, overages, surcharge ..."
"Money's no object," Santa said. "No price is too large to see these bugs get squashed."
"Then load up the sleigh, Santa," Hannibal said, lighting a cigar. "You've just hired the A-Team."
"Face, we'll need a plane," Hannibal said as Santa followed the four out of the soundstage.
"I told you I don't fly!" B.A. said angrily.
"Oh, we don't need a plane! I'll just spring magic dust on my reindeer, and they'll fly us there on my sleigh!" "I don't smoke that stuff," B.A. replied. "I got my own ride."
"But my sleigh will get us there quickly. It can travel the world in one night!" "My van is fast," B.A. replied matter-of-factly. "If I could just remember where I parked," he added, looking around.
"Right over there," Murdoch said, pointing. "I parked a stunt vehicle right next to it."
"This ain't my van," B.A. said, opening the driver's side door to see that the inside was only a cheap balsa wood frame to prop up the fake exterior.
Murdoch glanced over to an adjoining lot to see a scene in progress using what was supposed to be the stunt van, although he could see the wreath attached to the front. "Oops," Murdoch gulped as B.A.'s van exploded.
"Cut and print!" the director shouted as B.A. fainted.
"Here Comes Santa Claus" played as Santa's sleigh flew over the Los Angeles skyline, leaving a trail of magic dust behind.
As Santa held the reins, Hannibal, Face and Murdoch enjoyed the ride while B.A. slept, still passed out from shock.
Santa watched his sleigh's position on a small radar screen as he approached the invisibility wall. As he passed through, the complex suddenly appeared below him. He steered the sleigh toward a runway with multi-colored lights along the sides that blinked sequentially in the same direction.
A voice with a southern accent crackled over the radio. "Air Claus One, you arrrrre cleared for landing."
"Roger," Santa said. He nodded to his passengers, who turned off their electronic devices and fastened their seatbelts. Elves on the runway guided the sleigh in with small lit poles with red and white candy cane swirls.
Hannibal, Murdoch and Face followed Santa into a gingerbread house which stood next to the runway.
"We got trouble, Boss," said one of the elves in high-pitched voice, as if he'd just inhaled helium. He pointed to a candy-striped security monitor which showed a night vision few of some men walking among some of the elves' parked snowmobiles, taking down licence plate numbers.
"Friends of yours?" Hannibal asked.
"No," Santa said irritatedly. "They work for that big labor boss, Johnny Offya III. They're giving us a hassle 'cause we're non-union. Don't worry, I'll get rid of them in a hurry." Santa pulled a lever which activated a sprinkler system, dousing the unwanted visitors in water. As they dispersed, one of them looked up at the security camera and shouted, "You're dead, fat man! You hear me? Dead!" "They scare easily," Santa said, "but they'll soon be back. In a great numbers."
They heard an angry scream from the other room. "Sounds like you're friend is waking up," Santa said. B.A. woke up on an elf-size bed, his feet hanging over the end because it was too small.
He sat up from the bed and bumped his head on the low cieling. As he got and walked out of the bedroom, he bumped his head again on te low doorway.
When he saw Hannibal, Face and Murdoch, he shouted "You suckas put on a sleigh!" "Now, B.A., don't be ridiculous," Hannibal said. "What, you gonna lie to me sucka? Tell me we in South Carolina?"
"Now, B.A.," Santa said calmly, "let's not get upset ..."
"You better stay out of this, man," B.A. replied to Santa, "or I'm-a knock you into the new year." "B.A.," Santa continued, "I'd like to show you something that will make you forget your troubles ..."
"Ode to Joy" played as a pair of elves poured molten gold into a mold which fashioned it into a gold necklace. The glow from the gold reflected on the elves' dark protective goggles.
B.A. watched in awe froma distance. "It's beautiful," he said solemly. "... magical ... I understand, at last, the true meaning of Christmas."
"Of course, if you ask the childrens," Santa said, "the real treasure is over there."
They looked where Santa pointed to see elves in protective suits under purplish lights building microchips at one end of a conveyer belt. At the other end, more elves fitted the circuitry into a sleek casing.
"Wow!" Murdoch said excitedly. "The Nofrendo Playbox 247!" It's got a virtual 3D controller with a brainwave interface! It's the greatest game system ever!" Not seeing an excited reaction from the others, Murdoch added, "*Ever!*"
"Indeed," Santa said, "unfortunately, if those thugs have their way, the childrens will never see them. I've lost two shipments already."
"Cheer up," Hannibal said, "You've got four new truck drivers with a very high success rate." He lit a cigar and grinned. "Third time's a charm."
Santa grimaced as he looked over a list, written on rolled parchment. "I'm afraid I can't make the things on this list. They're far too dangerous!"
"Don't worry," Hannibal said, "We're big kids. You just make the toys. We'll leave the lump of coal."
"Christmas in Hollis" by Run DMC played as a montage showed the elves helping the A-Team equip for their mission.
-An elf using blacksmith tools banged hot steel over an anvil to fashion a machine gun.
-Face and Murdoch removed the headlights from the front of a semi truck.
-An elf in a workshop, wearinig an apron and toolbelt, attached a barrel to a newly built rifle and pounded the barrel into place.
-B.A. used a blowtorch to cut a hole into the top of the semi's cargo area. -A strange contraption with blinking mutli-colored lights and candy-cane shaped levers spit out a tray with holes containing freshly made bullets. One elf removed the tray while another loaded the bullets into a freshly built clip.
-An elf with a pair of magnifying goggles carefully poured chemicals from flasks into a grenade and handed it to Hannibal, who threw it into one of Santa's gift sacks along with several other grenades.
-Elves loaded crates of Playboxes into the truck.
-Santa nodded to one of the elves to open the warehouse door, then gave a thumbs up to B.A., who drove the truck.
B.A. gave a thumbs up back to Santa and headed out.
-The truck materialized as it passed through the invisible cloak into the Arctic night.
The trip was gruelling
grueling, but went smoothly until the truck, driving along a secluded country road in the Northeast, suddenly found its path blocked by two pick-up trucks, parked perpendicular to the road in both lanes to completely block the path of the semi. As B.A. rolled to a stop, two of the thugs approached the truck.
B.A. rolled down the window and addressed one of them:
"What you doin' in the middle of the road?" he asked confusedly. "I don't see no crossing guard!"
"Ain't no crossing guards here," said Thug #1. "This is the School of Hard Knocks!" "If you suckas don't move out the way," B.A. said, raising his fist, "I'm-a give you a hard knock with this!"
"You want us to move, tough guy?" Thug #1 replied. "Why don't come down here and ask me again, to my face?"
B.A. stepped down from the truck and sneered in the Thug's face. "I wasn't askin', fool."
Thug #1 laughed, then turned to Thug #2 and said, "this guy's got a big mouth. I think we need to teach him some manners ..." He quickly turned back to B.A. and threw a swing, trying to sucker punch him. B.A.'s head was thrown back by the punch, only to calmly turn back to Thug #1 as if nothing had happened.
Thug #1 knew his plan had gone awry when B.A. lifted him up and threw him in slow motion. While B.A. had his back turned, Thug #2 ran toward B.A. with a baseball bat ready to smash his skull. As Thug #2 passed by the sleeping compartment of the semi, however, Murdoch opened the door and jumped on him, tackling him to the ground, Thug #2 tried to swing the baseball bat at Murdoch, but Murdoch grabbed the bat with both hands and forced the bat back at Thug #2's head, knocking him harshly against the side of the truck, truck to the back, bat to the front. He made a stupid dazed expression as he fell, revealing a dent in the truck behind him. "He bunts it low, to the inside ..." Murdoch said in an announcer voice as the Thug fell unconscious. "Let's smoke these guys," said Thug #3 to Thug #4 who stood beside him near the second pick-up truck. Thug #3 opened a secret compartment under the flatbed to reveal shotguns underneath.
The had their sights aimed on B.A. and Murdoch when suddenly they were bombarded with machine gun fire. They crouched to in place until the gunfire stopped. They looked up to see, above the semi's trailer, a cigar-smoking Hannibal aiming a machine gun from a hatch on the roof, a makeshift turret.
"On your feet, scumbags," he shouted. "Drop the hardware."
Murdoch grabbed their rifles.
"We asked you nicely to move," Hannibal continued. Now we're gonna have to do it the hard way. Face?"
Face popped up through the hatch next to hannibal, holding a remote control.
As Face started to operate the controls, the truck's headlights automatically flipped away to reveal candy-striped missiles in each headlight. A mechanical sound was heard as the rockets swiveled slightly while Face aimed them.
The two rockets launched simultaneously, decimating the two trucks in explosions.
"Now," Hannibal said, "I've got good news and bad news. The bad news is, you're two bit operation just went belly up. The good news is, we're giving you a ride back to town."
Johnny Offya III was working at his desk when he heard the buzzer indicating someone was at the entrance to the building.
"Come on up," Johnny said as he pressed the intercom button, then pressed the button to buzz the visitor in. When the intercom buzzed again, Johnny irritatedly got up and walked to the door.
Outside the building, Johnny opened the door and gasped.
"What the ..."
Before him were the Thugs he'd sent to intercept the shipment, but they were tied, gagged, and wrapped in Christmas gift wrap.
A danging holiday card was attached. Johnny flipped it open and read the handwritten note out loud:
"Stay out of the North Pole ..." Then, on the opposite side: "... Ho, ho, ho ..." He looked at the Thugs angrily and repeated, "Ho, ho, ho?"
Salesman #1 at Prime Purchase labored to hold the front doors to the store closed as the crowd on the other side tried to push its way through the locked doors to take advantage of the early morning sale which would begin momentarily.
"I don't know how much longer I can hold them back," Salesman #1 said nervously to Salesman #2, who stood next to the empty Playbox kisk. "Where are those Playboxes?"
"Right here!" Murdoch shouted from the back of the store as the four hurriedly rushed forward, tugging shrinkwrapped bundles of the game system. The four helped Salesman #2 to hurriedly stock the kiosk.
"Can't you go any faster?" Salesman #1 said.
"We're going as fast as we can!" Salesman #2 replied.
"You've got to go faster!" Salesman #1 cried as the camera zoomed in on him. "Faster, damn youuu!"
Suddenly the floodgates broke open and the crowd burst through the doors. Hands protruded from a murmuring cloud of dust in front of the kiosk as the crowd furiously snatched up the game systems. When the kiotsk was empty, the crowd dissapated. Hannibal walked toward the entrance of the store and looked down to see Salesman #1 on the floor with footprints all over him. "You all right?" Hannibal said. "Yeah," he replied groggily as Hannibal helped him to his feet. "Thank goodness you got here when you did. I was afraid you weren't going to make it."
"Sorry it took so long," Hannibal said. "We got a little sidetracked. Had to clear some garbage off the road." Salesman #1 shook his head. "Only trash litters."
"You said it, friend," Hannibal answered, then turned to the others. "Time's a-wastin', guys. Let's roll!"
Johnny Offya III's large stature loomed over the street vendor as he said, in a deep voice, "I'd like a full refund. This is not the best hot dog I've ever eaten." Suddenly a black stretch limousine squealed to a halt at the curb behind Johnny. Two men in suits jumped out, grabbed Johnny, and dragged him into the limo. The hot dog vendor watched puzzledly as the limo zoomed away. "Have a nice day ..."
"I'm very disappointed," said the man sitting across from Johnny. Johnny couldn't not see his face, as it was shrouded in darkness, but he recognized the voice of the infamous mobster Tony Nevada.
"You think your union could have become so powerful on your own?" Tony said bitterly. "Do you know how many fingers I had to cut off, how many kneecaps I had to break? Why else would anybody take you seriously, you big, fat buffoon?" "You're right, sir," Johnny said humbly.
"Do you know how many executives I had to dangle from the top floor to get ( organizer? )
"I don't know about this," said T-Ron, who sat in the driver's seat, dressed in black with a black ski cap. "I mean, c'mon. It's Santa Claus!"
L-Ron, who sat in the passenger seat, puffed on a joint and held his breath while he grumbled, "FUCK that NIG-ga!" He exhaled. "Every year he used to lay somethin' up under ma tree. I rob one liquor store, and he gon' put my ass on the GOT-damn NAUGH-ty list!"