Title: Santa is an Anagram of Satan
Rating: PG13
Summary: Jazmine tries to get Huey and Riley into the Christmas spirit by making a bet.
Warnings: If you celebrate Christmas, this may offend you.
Pairings: None
Chapter 1 – My Opinion of Christmas for Dummies
I don't see why everyone looks forward to Christmas each year. I don't look forward to it. I never have. I mean, if it was any different than the Christmas that preceded it, maybe I might show a bit more holiday spirit. But this year, just like the one before, was as boring as ever. None of the people celebrating want to accept the truth behind the holiday, which I find more annoying every year. The numbers of Wiccans has risen sharply over the past few years. Ask any Wiccan, and they'll tell you the similarities between Yule and Christmas any day. Look at the trees. The wreaths. Everything!
Okay, I'm done with that part. I'll try to refrain from history lessons, since no one ever seems to care about them in the first place. On to the story. This year (surprise, surprise!), Christmas was the same as it had been the year before. Kids were running through the mall like wild animals, screaming, crying and whatnot, all the time annoying the piss outta me.
Anyways, this whole incident started when Jazmine decided she wanted to go see Santa at the mall. I've known for ages that he's not real, but Granddad made me promise not to say anything to Riley, so I just kept my mouth shut… however ridiculous Riley's antics had become. Santa Stalker. I mean, seriously. You can't get more retarded than that.
I had no intention of going with her, but the minute she mentioned 'Santa Stalker', I knew my presence was more or less required. I brought a stun gun so I could zap Riley in the ass if he got to be too much of a handful, like he usually did. (Nevermind the fact that I didn't get to keep it. Clearly, the mall remembered Riley's series of attacks from last year and increased security.)
So, I was stuck listening to Jazmine ramble on about her almost sexual fixation of the fat pedophile elf man for nearly an hour before the man himself came out to greet the kids. Jazmine's scream more or less shattered my eardrums.
"Is it really that exciting?" I groaned, covering my ears with my hands. "It's just some fat guy in a red suit!"
It was then that I noticed she was crying. "Wh-what just hit me?!" she bawled, clutching her left thigh.
I didn't even have to turn around. The next shot hit me in the arm. Riley was laughing at the top of his lungs, seemingly unaware that he'd dropped his BB gun. "Shit, nigga, didn't mean ta hit ya!" he said through fits of laughter. Sorry? Yeah, my ass he was.
"What the hell are you doing here, Riley?" I asked monotonously. I had a pretty good idea why he was here, after all.
Riley shrugged. "Well, before ya ask, I ain't stalkin' Santa this year," he said.
"Did I say you were?"
"You was thinkin' it!"
Jazmine interrupted our pointless argument. "If you're not here to stalk Santa, what's with the gun?"
"What?" Riley asked innocently.
"Your gun. The one you just shot me and Huey with."
Riley shrugged. "Well, see, I got this crazy idea. Wouldn't chu think Santa'd be kinda pissed that I threw a chair at 'im and chased 'im outta the mall with BB guns and shit?"
"I'd be pissed if I was him," I said.
"Yeah, I was thinkin' that," Riley said, clearly under the delusion that he was making some form of sense. "So, see, why didn't he give me a shit-ton of coal last year?"
I shook my head. "So… you're gonna shoot Santa because he didn't muck out the reindeer stalls to fill your stocking?"
"No, nigga! I'm sayin' that Santa ain't real!"
It's about fuckin' time, I thought. "Really, Riley?" I said sarcastically. "What tipped you off?"
Jazmine gasped in outrage. "You two oughta be ashamed of yourselves!" she exclaimed. "Santa's right there! Don't you see him?"
"Jazmine, let's be rational about this," I said. "How can one obese white guy make it to every kid's house in the world in one night?"
She crossed her arms. "Santa is magical," she said simply. "How could someone who lives in the North Pole with elves not be magical?"
"Which brings me to my second point," I said. "Elves. Why hasn't anyone ever found an elf skeleton or something? Unless they're the missing link and they live forever, that is."
Jazmine nodded. "Exactly! They've been around since the beginning of time, ever since Santa died for our sins and—"
"Okay, stop. Just… stop. You're done." Hell, even Riley looked a bit befuddled by her reasoning.
"Wait," Riley said musingly. "Wasn' it Jesus who died?"
Jazmine blinked. "Who?"
See, this is what irks me the most about the Christmas season. People are celebrating the holiday without even knowing—or caring—what it's really about. Now, if you're like me and don't give a flying fuck about the dumb holiday in the first place, then I guess you don't really need to care about what it signifies, either. But, hey, it's always good to know a thing or two, just in case your mother starts asking why you're so vehemently opposed to attending the Christmas Eve church service with the rest of the family.
"Alright, I've had enough of your lack of Christmas spirit!" Jazmine snapped. "I bet you two could have a great Christmas if you followed my lead!"
Riley snorted. "Whateva."
"No, I'm serious!" she whined. "Let's make a bet!"
"For what?" I asked suspiciously.
Jazmine thought for a moment. "You guys go with me to the Christmas party at my church and attend the service afterwards. If you aren't in the Christmas spirit after that, I'll… um…" she thought for a moment. "Well, what do you want?"
Riley grinned that grin that always meant trouble. "You have to admit that Santa ain't real! In fronta everyone!"
I nodded. "Sounds fair. What happens if we loose?"
Jazmine grinned. "You both have to sit on Santa's lap."
"Hell no!" I exclaimed. "I am not sitting on some eighty-something-year-old pedophile's lap!"
Riley poked me in the shoulder. "Uh, you ain't never gonna have a good time in church, though, right?"
I frowned. "Oh. Yeah. Alright, you've got a deal, Jazmine."
And thus began what was arguably the worst Christmas in my eleven years on this planet.
Author's Note: Okay, let's get one thing straight: I am a psychotic-yet-geeky white girl raised by rednecks in the ghetto of Denver. I apologize if the dialogue in this story sucks. Happy Yulistmaskwaanzaka, everyone! Your support has made me feel important! Luv y'all!