I have a story I want to share with you. A story that you are never going to forget in your lifetime or at least until December 26th, whichever comes first. Come gather around the fireplace and hear a tale. Yes, I know the fireplace is on the television, but it is in 4k HD so it is as real as it is going to get without me going out and finding fire wood. And I am not going to lie to you boy and girls, if you want a real fireplace for ambiance, some of your parents are going to have to make a lot more money in 2017. Because this is the best we have got. Deal with it. Now, back to what I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted. Sit down because I have a story that is going to fill you with joy, happiness, suspense, sadness, and booze. It would be like if Disney were to do an adult version of Inside Out just with more sex, and terrible jokes.
A story about love can only end one way. Well, two if you count the double suicide ending to Romeo and Juliet. But do we really want an ending where our two main characters die? I didn’t think so. A story about love can only end one possible way after a year of not knowing anything about it until three days in December. The story has to end with the two tying the knot. And that is a sexual position that will be practiced in third part. Just a warning out there to the youngins. And there is no bigger love story than our own Santa and his Mrs. Claus. Remember, Richard became Santa because the heartless bastard who puts these stories together decided to kill the first Santa. By becoming Santa, Richard got fat. Sorry, I don’t want to fat shame Santa. So, let me rephrase that, Obese. However, last year the Tim Allen rule was in effect. This is where Santa has to find someone to marry, we don’t leave anyone out at the North Pole. See once the two became an item they became inseparable. Richard and Ashlee said things to each that would make all of us at the North Pole feel like we had binge ate 10 pounds of chocolate in one sitting while watching the return of the Gilmore Girls. Oh. You do not believe me. Let me give you a little sample of the love I am talking about.
“Ashlee, you make my heart as happy as Pinkie Pie baking cupcakes on Christmas morning. I love you, Panda Pants.”
He actually fucking said that. I am not making this up because I was there. How can you make something like that up? First off, that is statement that after hearing, you just kind of know that you are going to get Type 2 Diabetes. Second, who in the world calls their significant other Panda Pants. Santa is one of the biggest figures in the world. Literally and figuratively. Think about this, what if someone famous were to call the love of their life Panda Pants? That seriously turn into a hashtag and start trending on social media by the end of the night. Use the hashtag #pandapants. And a My Little Pony reference. I don’t want to think this about the man who became Santa, but damn it, there are days that I believe that we are one step away from a Brony Con at the North Pole. And no one wants that. Well, there are a couple of elves who like wearing tails but is that the same thing? But I digress.
It was getting close to Santa’s big day. But not the one you are thinking kids. Any schmuck can deliver Christmas presents worldwide to all the good boys and girls. That was child’s play compared to how big this day was. Santa is about to get married to the woman of his dreams. The future Mrs. Claus. But before we can proceed to the big day, we have a little back story to discuss first. See any characters could walk down the aisle and say “I Do.” But what about the bachelor and bachelorette parties, and what happened to the North Pole while the partying was happening would change North Pole as we knew it. I bet you are sitting on the edge of your seat. Well, sit back dumbass. Look, I don’t want you to have to explain as to why you broke a chair.
Our story begins with Santa sitting and reading emails from the boys and girls from all across the world telling the big guy what they wanted for Christmas.
This year I have been a good little girl. So, I want a Hatchimal. It comes in an egg and hatches. They are sooooo cute. Please Santa bring one, or I will hunt your fat ass down.
Jesus. I am not sure what has gotten into these kids over the past couple of years. One year they are grateful for Santa bringing them a present, and the next they demand it as if they were a white girl at a Starbucks. It is not like I can magically just say poof and pull something out of my ass.
Well, he could. He is Fucking Santa
“Honey. What is wrong?” Ashlee, came walking into the office holding a plate of hot wings and an ice-cold Pepsi.
“Every letter, every child wants an NES System to play. I didn’t realize I had died and mysteriously woke up in 1989. Or every child wants a damn Hatchimal!”
“What is a Hatchimal?” Ashlee asked with a confused look on her face.
“Remember the Furby?” I looked right at Ashlee as her face turned from one of puzzled to one of disgust.
“I hate those things. I had one talk to me without batteries. Santa brought me a possessed Furby!”
My eyes show nothing but horror, know that my predecessor brought my future wife, a toy that was possibly possessed with something that may eat souls, or the career of Tim Allen after Home Improvement, either way, Dead. “Yeah, The Hatchimal is practically the sibling you never wanted, but your parents chose to keep having sex like they enjoyed it. And poof there it is. I have never seen so many people asking for an egg to hatch into baby. In my day, they called that an unwanted teenage pregnancy, and then they would end up on the Jenny Jones show.”
Ashlee was not amused by my statement at all. In fact, she rolled her eyes and looked at me as if I kicked a puppy while it was being held by a blind orphan.
“That was so wrong. The reason I came in here…” Ashlee said, before being cut off by Richard. “What was wrong with my statement? It was not that bad. And you know I have said way worse than that.” Ashlee just shakes her head in disgust. “You might have said worse, but I never heard it. Look before you so rudely cut me off, the reason I came in here was to tell you that you have a meeting in the board room in 5 minutes.”
“I will be there in a few minutes. I know we need to plan out the journey. Wait a minute?!?! It is not Christmas Eve yet……. It’s November 4th. Hmmmmmm. I will be there, but I do not like it.” I said. Something seems fishy about this. I feel that I am walking into some sort of situation that I am not going to be happy with. In the noble words of a character that set the world on fire and became a cultural icon; Admiral Akbar, “It’s a trap!”
I make my way to the board room and the only thing going through my mind is that this is going to lead to something that I may regret. I love the people that are surrounding me. They are some of the best help that anyone could ask for, but I don’t trust them. You can love someone, but I feel I am about to have a guy in a red wig come up to me and kick me right in the nuts.
I walk into the board room as if I am Negan from The Walking Dead, I am hoping that I smash their plan before it gets started. I want to make the plan unrecognizable. I want to Glenn their plan. Is it too soon? Get over yourselves. Glenn’s death will never hold a head up to Wash’s death in Firefly. Now, that would be too soon. I take my spot at the head of the table. I will never get tired of sitting in that chair, other than the fact each time I spin, I feel like every bad guy from a kid’s movie in the early 90s. The only thing missing for me to do is tear down a neighborhood.
Brodie starts the meeting as he usually does, and I am just waiting for the floor to drop out beneath me. “I would like to welcome everyone to this very special meeting of the North Pole Wedding Parties.”
“Wait a minute…. Oh shit, I am getting married.” Have you ever felt a look so cold that it could make global warming its bitch? At that very moment, I felt that exact look. I felt my soon to be wife’s eyes locked directly on to my head possibly with thoughts running through her mind if she happened to know anyone who was a sniper. I fucked up. I feel the best option for me at this moment would be to sit my ass back down in my big comfy spinny chair and shut the hell up. I feel as if it would be best for me to just listen and let this play out. I look back over at Ashlee, and she is shaking her head yes. Can she read my thoughts? Oh Shit. If that is the case, I just need to think about kittens.
“You know you just said that aloud where we could all hear it right?” My new head elf, Sharon said looking at me as if I was an act in a sideshow. This is going to be a very long meeting.
“Ok. So, are we finished looking at the small-town car crash?” Brodie says. Everyone at the table is just puzzled with the statement. “I see the confusion. Let me explain. When you live in a small town, you hear a crash on the scanner. And instead of not doing anything, you load the family up, jump in the car and take off to view the crash. Once you have seen it, you are going to have to turn around, and since it’s small town, you are going to have to drive by again.” Everyone at the table just lets out a collective, AHHHH. It was an epiphany.
“Since the two wedding parties have gathered, I need to know what is going on with the Bachelor and Bachelorette parties. Ladies we will start with you because I am guessing what the guys have planned.”
Ashlee’s bridesmaids stand up collectively, look directly at Brodie without any warning. Laken is the first to speak. “We are taking her to dinner at a fancy place with drinks.” Victoria is next, and she says, “And then we are going to get the finest drinks we can and dance the night away at a club in the states.” Hannah is last, “And once they are good and drunk, I am going to go all Mom Mode on their asses and take care of them. Chances are they won’t be able to walk the next day.” Brodie approves this by giving a nod and a thumb up as if he were on the cover of a video game.
“Groom’s party you are next.” Brodie says and it hit me. I have no one at the table other than Emerson.
“Brodie, can you give me one second please?” Brodie reluctantly says yes, and then proceeds to tell me that I only have 5 minutes. I call for my head elf to have a quick meeting.
“Sharon. I am freaking out. What in the hell am I a going to do? How in the hell am I going to put together a wedding party? Remember earlier when I said when I didn’t remember that I was getting married. That is what I get for not planning ahead. Son of a Bitch! Sharon where is Knight?”
“Well, you fired him like four months ago, after he went postal and just started licking every pole in sight and some that were not.” Sharon said to me with a straight face.
“Oh yeah. That would explain why stuff is actually getting done around here. Holy shit. I have an idea. Sharon, you should be my best man! You are like family to me, and I feel if anyone could do it would be you. What do you say? I exclaimed with excitement, just hoping that it would work out.
“Last time I checked, I was not a man. But I do love a challenge. Sure. I will be your best woMAN.” Sharon says to me. “I am guessing I need to find strippers.”
“NO! Have you seen the class of strippers up here? Seriously, I do not want a woman grinding on me who has a cooch that smells like a candy cane. Do you know how wrong that is? No Strippers. I just want something simple with some friends. Oh Shit. I still need to find one other person to make it three. BALLS! What in the hell am I going to do?”
“I know someone who would be there. Do you know Zac from accounting?” Sharon says to me.
“We have an accounting department at the North Pole. Well, you learn something new every day around here without fail.” I say to Sharon, as I look at my watch. The five minutes are almost up. Brodie, hates people being late. Something about him being kind of time Nazi.
(Time Nazi is a very offensive term. They prefer being called The Alt Right of Time.)
We are running through the halls of the North Pole estate. I can’t help but hear a John Mayer song in my head as this is happening. It is all happening so fast. I bust through the doors, as if I am going to be making a rescue of a damsel in distress in a 90s movie. I love being a 90s-movie cliché. Sometimes I feel fucking cool, this is that moment.
“Brodie, let me turn it over to my Bestest woMAN Sharon, and she will give all the details of the bachelor party.” Sharon looks pissed. I kind of just threw her under the bus. I should have realized that trying to plan a party in less than 3 minutes is something that is going to be difficult. I guess I expected her to channel her inner Jennifer Lopez from The Wedding Planner.
“I have never thrown a bachelor party before, but it can’t be too difficult. So, Emerson, Zac from accounting, and myself will be taking Richard to a pub, and then we are going to be drinking Spirits all night while watching horrible movies.” Brodie approves, hell, I approve. That sounds like an amazing bachelor party.
Brodie looks at all of us and says with a stern voice…. “The parties start right now. This is the only day that Mr. Claus can be away from the Pole and the future Mrs. Claus has to take hers at the same time. We will be covered here at the North Pole as myself, and the builder, Norm will be running things. If anyone has any questions.” I start to interrupt Brodie, and he just cuts me off. “No Questions. Good. Now, get out of here.”
The Bridal party leaves. I give Ashlee one last hug because I have seen the Hangover, chances are I am going to be left on a rooftop or end up naked in some guy’s trunk. I have to get in a car with three people that have never hung out before, maybe three people who have never spoken a day in their life.
“Norm, you want to get some Hot Chocolate?” Brodie says. Norm being a tall man who strikes fear of the hearts of many, mostly because they don’t know him. “It’s about damn time for a break. I am ready for some hot chocolate and whipped cream.” Brodie gets this look of disgust on his face, “You sir, are a fucking heathen.” The two lock eyes…………. “This means war.” Norm says.
I am about to experience my first taste of the Christmas spirit, it’s a good thing that spirit is Rumchata.
How drunk will the bride and groom get? Will someone have to hold hair while throwing up in a toilet? Will we find out why the North Pole has an accounting team? And what happens at the North Pole in part two will change the very fabric of Christmas as we know it. Stay tuned for Part Two of The Spirits of Christmas (Hint: It’s Booze) Tomorrow. Same Christmas Time, Same Christmas Channel.