Li’l Johnny Saves Christmas, Part One

—or, This Is Not the True Meaning of Christmas, Or Even “Saves,” For That Matter–

I.

Best Laid Plans

 

Christmas had come round again,

And Johnny was going away

He already made excuses to friends

For missing Christmas Day.

 

He’d packed away his sunscreen,

He’d bought extra flip-flops

Johnny even paid a little extra

For the flight to Hawaii without stops

 

All his shit was nearly packed,

He was now securing his cash

When from his downstairs hallway,

He heard a mighty stumbling crash.

 

“The fuck was that?” he asked

To his large and empty house.

“I know there are no people here,

And I finally killed that goddamn mouse.”

 

Johnny leapt out of his bedroom,

took the stairs two by two

“Alright you stupid fucker,

“There’ll be no holidays for you.”

 

As Johnny reached the hallway,

He asked, “What the hell is this?!”

As he saw some hobo in a Santa suit–

Half-naked in a puddle of his own piss!

 

“Oh you rotten, filthy bastard,”

Johnny said, as he took in the sight

“You’ve made a serious error, friend,

And this might be your final night.”

 

Li’l Johnny rummaged in his pocket

Pulled out a battered phone

Dialed up his girlfriend Sara, and said,

“I’m not cleaning this alone.”

 

Sara asked for more detail,

Which Johnny could not provide

So he took a picture, but first

He exposed Santa’s backside.

 

On the other side of town,

Sara opened up the photo

She soon wished she hadn’t

As she expelled the night’s risotto.

 

Twenty harried minutes later,

Sara exited her Uber ride

She punched the fuckin driver,

Said, “Touch me again and I’ll have your hide.”

 

II.

Fight For The Fat Man

 

Johnny was inside, finishing a beer

Followed it with some rum,

A whiskey, two belts of rye, a martini

And to hide all the alcohol, a piece of lousy gum.

 

When Sara saw the wreckage

Of the Yuletide spirit’s form

She checked the old man’s breathing,

Said, “he still feels warm.”

 

From the TV in the living room,

There was a terrible noise

Of someone’s child gnashing and wailing

About not getting the newest toys.

 

And suddenly the house went dark,

then it filled with smoke that seared!

Then dozens of tiny men in combat fatigues,

with deadly, massive weaponry appeared!

 

Sara screamed for Johnny,

As he was lit up by laser sights

Johnny seemed unfazed by this,

Muttered, “Pretty fuckin lights.”

 

“No how about you put down the guns,

You goddam stupid pricks

Before I stomp on your testicles

And Sara rips off your dicks?”

 

The little men were uneasy,

The situation had become complex

Until Sara grabbed one of them,

Then gave him a devastating suplex!

 

‘HOLD IT,” shouted someone

As he stepped into the light.

“We only want the fat man,

So we can salvage this fucked-up night.”

 

Everyone looked down at Santa,

Who moved listlessly on the floor,

Then polluted the air with farts,

Rolled over and continued to snore.

 

“What the hell is going on?”

Asked Sara to the little man.

“I’ll tell you what I know,” he said,

And then his tale began.

 

III.

A Deal Is Struck.

 

He told a tale of Santa, increasingly depressed.

The old man was growing tired

Of kids asking for complex toys he couldn’t make

and expensive little gadgets everyone desired.

 

“So each year after Christmas,

The fat man goes on the bend

“This year he got the date wrong, it seems,

And now it appears that Christmas finally will end.

 

“Without someone to make the rounds,”

he said, “Belief in Santa will fade away

“And then before you know it, Christmas

Will become just another day.”

 

Sara stared pointedly at Johnny

In his new vacation gear.

“Well, how about a replacement,

Just once, this time, for this year?”

 

Li’l Drunken Johnny, mostly in the bag,

Considered Sara’s expression and the words she said

“Tell ya what, Sara, I’ll save the fat old man…

But after this is over, you’d better give me head.”

 

–END PART ONE—