Chapter 1: A Not So Jolly Christmas
"December 24th, 2 PM. Eastern Standard Time. . . I hate Christmas. It seems to me that it was made into a major holiday just to make Jewish children jealous. Christmas is all a lie. I mean, come on. There IS no Santa, there IS no peace on earth, and there CERTAINLY isn't good will to men. So what are we really celebrating? Presents. Material goods. Don't we already have enough holidays dedicated to buying things? Christmas didn't used to be like this. I blame it all on Hallmark. Wow. I really sound like Scrooge around the holidays. The irony of all ironies is that of all the memories I have, almost all of them are of Christmas. It seems like that's the time each year when we all stop and take stock of our lives. So let's see. It's Christmas Eve. We're supposed to be having a party later today. Roger and Collins are trying to brace the crooked tree so that it stands up straight. The girls are in the kitchen attempting to cook. It'll be a miracle if we make it to the party without burning the building down. And here I am sitting in my room-sulking because I hate Christmas. Plus I had Maureen for Secret Santa and I still don't have a gift. I thought about getting her a box of condoms, but then I decided that Joanne probably wouldn't appreciate that. Okay, this is ridiculous. . .I have to get out of this room. . .Do I smell smoke?"
Mark shut off his camera, set it carefully beside him on the bed, and walked out to the living room/kitchen. There were clouds of thick black smoke filling the loft.
"My Christmas cookies!" Mimi shrieked, "Maureen, what did you do to them?!"
"I only turned it on 450. . ." Maureen moaned, "Rudolf, jingle bells, and Santa Claus all ruined."
"Oh, guys, I leave you alone for two minutes and you ruin the cookies. Now what will we do?" Joanne replied to the weepy girls.
"Aww, guy don't worry we can buy some cookies. It was just an experiment anyway." Roger's soothing voice calmed the girls and dried their tears.
Mark shook his head and wished that he could have that kind of influence. If he could cal everyone with a few words, things would be a lot less crazy.
Mark's thoughts were interrupted by a resounding crash as Collins fell off the ladder he'd been using to work on the tree.
"Collins!" they all shouted as they ran to the moaning professor.
"Are you okay?" Maureen shouted.
"How many fingers am I holding up?!" Mark asked frantically.
"I'm fine, and you're holding up four fingers. I think I twisted m ankle. Can I please have some ice?"
"Sure, go outside and get yourself some," Maureen said sarcastically, "Or better yet, run the water in the sink and *make* some. It's cold enough in here."
"Oh, that was *real* helpful, Mo," Roger shot back.
"What can I say? I'm just a helping hand at the ready." Maureen cooed.
There was a collective snort at that. As Mark and Maureen's hourly fight was progressing, Mimi was breaking out the ice trays and making a make- shift ice pack.
"Doctor Marquez, paging Doctor Marquez," Collins mocked in an intercom- esque voice.
"Oh, my brave little soldier," Mimi replied melodramatically.
Collins was lifted onto the creaky couch and made as comfortable as possible.
Everyone jumped in surprise as Mark started tickling Maureen and she gave a piercing shriek.
"All right, that's *enough*!" Collins shouted. "Can't a poor old man get some rest?"
They all stifled their laughter and started separate decorating tasks. The mistletoe was put up and walked under many times by Mimi and Roger as well as Joanne and Maureen. Mark and Collins just stood by and shuffled their feet. Or in Collins' case-foot.
"Here, Collins," Maureen said proudly, offering him an object dripping with some kind of slime.
Mimi eyed it warily and backed behind Roger.
"What is that?" Collins asked.
"A cast. For you ankle. I made it out of papier mache. "
"Gee, thanks, Mo, that's just what I wanted for Christmas." Collins replied through gritted teeth and a crooked smile.
"Yes, I know." Maureen replied skipping back to the mistletoe. Roger picked up his guitar and started to strum "Deck the Halls," while Mimi put another batch of cookies in the oven. Mark was just about to start a story board for his new movie when the Grinch himself burst in.
"Ho ho ho!" Benny said while barging in the six friends winter wonderland.
"Don't worry kids, I'm not here for the rent. I come in peace and I even brought an offering. That's right. I even brought the booze."
"BOOZE! Yay! Let's get this party started!" Maureen cried, leaping at Benny and his peace offering. Maureen poured the drinks and everyone, including Mark the designated driver of the bunch, drank up.
"oooo, Marky is joining in on the fun." Benny commented through a sneer.
"Yes, that's right. 'Marky' is going to party hard tonight." Mark said while downing the rest of his drink.
"Whoa, Marky, easy there," Benny warned, "You're gonna have a killer hangover."
"Ah, worry about it later." Mark slurred. "Gimme another."
Mark held out his glass to Maureen, who clumsily splashed more of the ligquid into his glass.
"Anyone have music?" Roger asked.
Benny, who was now very drunk, nodded eagerly.
"Yeah. I got a boom box in my car."
So Benny went and got it. They pumped up cheesy rock Christmas carols on the radio, and pretty soon everyone was dancing, laughing, and being completely wild.
By midnight, the Christmas tree had been knocked over again after Maureen had tried to climb it, Benny was sitting on the floor singing old Irish drinking songs, and Roger and Mimi had retreated to their bedroom. Even Mark had passed out on the couch. Collins and Joanne were the only ones still marginally sane.
Collins got up, limped over to Mark, and shook him gently.
"I can't wake him up. You think we should call a doctor?"
Joanne shook her head.
"Nah-he's just had too much to drink, he'll come around in the morning."
~~~**~~~ To be continued. . .
"December 24th, 2 PM. Eastern Standard Time. . . I hate Christmas. It seems to me that it was made into a major holiday just to make Jewish children jealous. Christmas is all a lie. I mean, come on. There IS no Santa, there IS no peace on earth, and there CERTAINLY isn't good will to men. So what are we really celebrating? Presents. Material goods. Don't we already have enough holidays dedicated to buying things? Christmas didn't used to be like this. I blame it all on Hallmark. Wow. I really sound like Scrooge around the holidays. The irony of all ironies is that of all the memories I have, almost all of them are of Christmas. It seems like that's the time each year when we all stop and take stock of our lives. So let's see. It's Christmas Eve. We're supposed to be having a party later today. Roger and Collins are trying to brace the crooked tree so that it stands up straight. The girls are in the kitchen attempting to cook. It'll be a miracle if we make it to the party without burning the building down. And here I am sitting in my room-sulking because I hate Christmas. Plus I had Maureen for Secret Santa and I still don't have a gift. I thought about getting her a box of condoms, but then I decided that Joanne probably wouldn't appreciate that. Okay, this is ridiculous. . .I have to get out of this room. . .Do I smell smoke?"
Mark shut off his camera, set it carefully beside him on the bed, and walked out to the living room/kitchen. There were clouds of thick black smoke filling the loft.
"My Christmas cookies!" Mimi shrieked, "Maureen, what did you do to them?!"
"I only turned it on 450. . ." Maureen moaned, "Rudolf, jingle bells, and Santa Claus all ruined."
"Oh, guys, I leave you alone for two minutes and you ruin the cookies. Now what will we do?" Joanne replied to the weepy girls.
"Aww, guy don't worry we can buy some cookies. It was just an experiment anyway." Roger's soothing voice calmed the girls and dried their tears.
Mark shook his head and wished that he could have that kind of influence. If he could cal everyone with a few words, things would be a lot less crazy.
Mark's thoughts were interrupted by a resounding crash as Collins fell off the ladder he'd been using to work on the tree.
"Collins!" they all shouted as they ran to the moaning professor.
"Are you okay?" Maureen shouted.
"How many fingers am I holding up?!" Mark asked frantically.
"I'm fine, and you're holding up four fingers. I think I twisted m ankle. Can I please have some ice?"
"Sure, go outside and get yourself some," Maureen said sarcastically, "Or better yet, run the water in the sink and *make* some. It's cold enough in here."
"Oh, that was *real* helpful, Mo," Roger shot back.
"What can I say? I'm just a helping hand at the ready." Maureen cooed.
There was a collective snort at that. As Mark and Maureen's hourly fight was progressing, Mimi was breaking out the ice trays and making a make- shift ice pack.
"Doctor Marquez, paging Doctor Marquez," Collins mocked in an intercom- esque voice.
"Oh, my brave little soldier," Mimi replied melodramatically.
Collins was lifted onto the creaky couch and made as comfortable as possible.
Everyone jumped in surprise as Mark started tickling Maureen and she gave a piercing shriek.
"All right, that's *enough*!" Collins shouted. "Can't a poor old man get some rest?"
They all stifled their laughter and started separate decorating tasks. The mistletoe was put up and walked under many times by Mimi and Roger as well as Joanne and Maureen. Mark and Collins just stood by and shuffled their feet. Or in Collins' case-foot.
"Here, Collins," Maureen said proudly, offering him an object dripping with some kind of slime.
Mimi eyed it warily and backed behind Roger.
"What is that?" Collins asked.
"A cast. For you ankle. I made it out of papier mache. "
"Gee, thanks, Mo, that's just what I wanted for Christmas." Collins replied through gritted teeth and a crooked smile.
"Yes, I know." Maureen replied skipping back to the mistletoe. Roger picked up his guitar and started to strum "Deck the Halls," while Mimi put another batch of cookies in the oven. Mark was just about to start a story board for his new movie when the Grinch himself burst in.
"Ho ho ho!" Benny said while barging in the six friends winter wonderland.
"Don't worry kids, I'm not here for the rent. I come in peace and I even brought an offering. That's right. I even brought the booze."
"BOOZE! Yay! Let's get this party started!" Maureen cried, leaping at Benny and his peace offering. Maureen poured the drinks and everyone, including Mark the designated driver of the bunch, drank up.
"oooo, Marky is joining in on the fun." Benny commented through a sneer.
"Yes, that's right. 'Marky' is going to party hard tonight." Mark said while downing the rest of his drink.
"Whoa, Marky, easy there," Benny warned, "You're gonna have a killer hangover."
"Ah, worry about it later." Mark slurred. "Gimme another."
Mark held out his glass to Maureen, who clumsily splashed more of the ligquid into his glass.
"Anyone have music?" Roger asked.
Benny, who was now very drunk, nodded eagerly.
"Yeah. I got a boom box in my car."
So Benny went and got it. They pumped up cheesy rock Christmas carols on the radio, and pretty soon everyone was dancing, laughing, and being completely wild.
By midnight, the Christmas tree had been knocked over again after Maureen had tried to climb it, Benny was sitting on the floor singing old Irish drinking songs, and Roger and Mimi had retreated to their bedroom. Even Mark had passed out on the couch. Collins and Joanne were the only ones still marginally sane.
Collins got up, limped over to Mark, and shook him gently.
"I can't wake him up. You think we should call a doctor?"
Joanne shook her head.
"Nah-he's just had too much to drink, he'll come around in the morning."
~~~**~~~ To be continued. . .