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Prelude

On Crematoria: Riddick and Toombs activate a timetravelling device by accident and find themself in a large Mall ...

Ho Ho Ho

Chapter 1

"Come again?" For the first time in his life Riddick wondered if he could trust his ears. Had that fucker just really said what Riddick thought he had said?

"I told you to put this on! I'd do it but I'm not the right size! Fuck, man, it's the only way we're going to get outta here without attracting too much attention…"

"Not attracting attention? You gotta be kidding me! You little FUCK! YOU PLANNED THIS!" Riddick was bellowing now, blue veins apparent under the strap of his goggles, his forward trusted jaw visibly hardening.

"No way, no way am I going to wear that thing! I'd rather ghost myself!"

Toombs grinned and whipped on his feet. "Well you either grab your panties and do as I say, big boy, or I'm gonna leave you on this lil' pleasure ball of a planet to rot.

Remember – I'm the one with the time shifting inter-dimensional device who can get us out of this crap you landed us into when you pulled your one-man show at Crematoria and threw yourself on me like that."

His grin widened. He seemed not to notice Riddick's eyes drilling into him.

Riddick knew when he was beaten. He wanted, no, needed to get the fuck out of here.

Behind the door, the ugly, nearly alien, sounds of some age-old Christmas jingle droned on, along with bored loudspeaker voices announcing one hour of exceptional some pre-gift-wrapped and pre-packaged children toys for half price.

He groaned and donned the ugly garment. It seemed to be composed of some cheap synthetic red robe with fake fur, matching red pants and hat, a faux leather black belt and something labeled 'boot tops'. Everything just barely large enough to fit him.

Riddick pulled it over his head, "A bit tight in the shoulders there. Gimme a hand. And what the fuck is Winnie the Pooh?"

Toombs was getting impatient, "Who cares?"

He yanked the robe down and threw Riddick a large synthetic belt and a white wig with a long white beard. The beard was fixed to the wig with cheap elastic bands. The silver-white beard, once fixed to Riddick's chin, had rows of little curls and was so long it hung over his navel. Everything he was wearing now was looking so obviously, shriekingly fake that Riddick could only shake his head. Did those people really think they could fool kids with that stuff? Or their parents?

He pulled up the pair of boots Toombs had shoplifted, when the lights were still out and the building was sleeping, and remembered the moment of total disorientation they had experienced….

One moment he was climbing the rope, spotting the last wards fighting the last Mercs, then he was jumping on Toombs, rolling and fighting for the gun on the floor of the prison ward - then there was a bright flash, hurting his eyes – and they crashed into what appeared to be women's underwear. Lots of it, on display.

They jumped apart, looking for an opening in the defence of their adversary and then they both saw the wall clock at the same time.

December 21, Year 2005.

Toombs had yelled at him to stop, that they had activated his travelling device and so Riddick hold back on the kill until he had figured out what had happened to them. Together, they had figured out that they were in some old fashioned mall. Together they explored the festively decorated huge building. Together they saw the enormous mob of people waiting before every entrance door and in wordless agreement together they had retreated to this storage room, where they had found all sort of disguises.

There was no way they would get out of this place unnoticed, covered in grime and blood and clothed like they were. And out they wanted, to find someplace quiet, get the device to work and return to their own world. One thing was clear for both of them – until then they were stuck with each other.

They cleaned up the best they could, chose a couple of costumes that matched the mall's decor – that part was easy, lots of dummies and pictures around the mall were wearing clothes just like those.

And now, here they were, dressed and ready to mingle, in the ugliest disguise Riddick had had to wear in his whole life.

Riddick gazed down at his own black boots, then at Toombs in his green velvet tunic, matching sleeves, collar, pants and pointy hat, red and white striped socks and dropped to the green leather elf shoes.

Silent laughter was shaking him as the humour of the situation got to him.

"I could make you some pointed matching ears," he offered, metal flashing from his sleeves.

Toombs evenly looked back at him, "Don't forget to go 'ho, ho, ho' a lot, baby, and I'll let you keep the beard when I haul your ass back to slam."

Through the partly open door they had spied already on a couple other Santas in even cheaper looking costumes walking by, and had by now a good idea of how the wearer of this costume was supposed to behave. He said 'ho, ho, ho', smiled a lot, was greeted by stressed mothers and sneered at by spoiled children and otherwise left alone, which was just fine by Riddick.

"Ready or not…" began Toombs

"… here we come." finished Riddick for him and out they walked.

For a couple minutes things went fine.

They had made their way halfway out of the toy department when a small hectic looking sweating man grabbed Riddick's arm, "About time! We have been looking for you for the past half hour… this way!"

"You got the wrong man …" Riddick began, but by then a little crowd had gathered around them, lights were flashing, pictures taken and a small, fat, sticky looking blonde girl with freckles thrust in his arms by her mother, so that all he could do was hold her up and follow the little man. Toombs followed behind swearing under his breath.

"I don't think you are really Santa Claus," informed him the little girl, one finger busy exploring the inside of her nose. "I think you don't even know where the North Pole is!"

The finger came out and was wiped on the long fake beard.

You got that right kid. I'm a time travelling mass murderer from the future and the green guy behind me is a Merc, who would rape your mother before selling her to the highest bidder and shiv you without loosing any sleep.

Aloud, Riddick said nothing.

"What are you waiting for! Sit down!" snapped their guide at him, gesticulating at a large podium covered in fake snow where a huge old fashioned sled with gold painting managed to stand perfectly still behind several life-sized animated dolls of Reindeers who were waving their heads from side to side.

The back of the sled was full with packages of all kind of sizes, colors and wrappings.

"Remember, green for boys, red for girls, pink for toddlers, no kid over twelve allowed on the sled, ring the bell when the sled's empty and we'll fill it up for you again."

"What?" repeated Riddick, sitting down in the sled. He looked around but their guide had vanished.

The mother of the little girl in his arms snarled at him, "Well? We don't have all day, you know."

He glowered back at her at a total loss of what was expected from him now.

"What a loser," the sticky little girl commented.

(to be continued)