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Despite what you may believe, monsters love Christmas. Oh sure, Halloween is the time of year when they're set loose upon our world, manifesting and spooking the wits out of anyone superstitious enough to fall for their tricksand treats. But monsters are practically a part of Christmas. Don't believe me? There was that one year when Santa Claus got switched with a criminal look-alike and his legion of Frackles before his minions were won over upon learning the true magic of the holiday. When the Sesame gang put on their reenactment of the Nativity, Bert had been the lone non-monster in the cast. Heck, even aliens celebrated a very Brody Tweeznax. So it should come to nobody's surprise that the Bat Bolt & Skull was decked in Decembrian decorations. An evil wreath on the door—kept from eating patrons thanks to a stash of candy canes—and blinking skull-lights radiated a feeling of peaceful warmth to all who chose to wander in from the cold outside.
------------------
Autumn might never have been on the stage in her life, but she was
prepared for her upcoming performance. Having learned a thing or two at the feet of a master diva from the times they had met in Las Vegas and New York, she would deliver her gifts with considerable aplomb.
---------------
Back at the club, there was an air of coziness due to the oven/stove unit from the kitchen, its inner doors were left open. Mrs. Plum, a corpulent half-corpsely woman, ladled cups of hot chocolate onto the tray held by Junie. Chef Machiavelli, a visitor to the staff helped out banging the naughty tentacles threatening to escape confinement back into the pot. The raisin rice pudding finished steaming, ready to be taken to the head vampires' table. One of the co-owners happily graced the local hotspot with his presence, his girlfiend in toe. Placing their winter coats on the coatrack, they proceeded to the corner booth usually reserved for the establishment's founders. The organ sounded clear and jolly during the day, carolls sung, the spooks enjoying the spirit of the season.
Dinner having come and gone, compliments paid to the chefs for the excellently braised meat and vegetables stew, Countess Dahling gasped with pleasant surprise at the snow starting to fall. She directed her boo-blooded beau's attention to the nearby window. The Count was equally ecstatic. Thinking they needed no excuse other than being snowed in with her, he started to sing, his Countess joining in on every second line or so, lending her vampiric vocals to the harmony.
"Oh the vethre outside is frightful."
"But the fire is so delightful."
"Yes, and since we've no place to go."
"Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow."
"Oh it doesn't show signs of stopping."
"And I brought some corn for popping."
"The lights all brightly glow."
"Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow."
"Vhen ve finally say good night.
How I'll loathe going out in this storm!"
"But if you really hold me tight."
"All the way home I'll be warm."
"The Fire is slowly dying."
"But my dear, we're still goodbyeing."
"And since we've no place to go."
"Let it snow!"
"That's 1," he counted.
"Let it snow!"
"That's 2," he continued.
"Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow."
"That's 5 "let it snow's", ah I love it!"
------------
Producing a skeleton key out of nowhere, she entered his house as easily—and as stealthily—as she had his heart. The pale cream of her rustling dress complimented her own tone, the long floor-length skirt trailing in her wake. She found him lying somewhat asleep on his bed. Checking the time, she knew he had just ended a nocturnal shift, so there was a good chance she'd be able to rouse him after the first chorus. Swaying slowly as if to an unheard melody and sashaying closer to her unwitting prey, her dulcit voice began to belt out her holiday greetings.
"Happy Batday tooo boo.
Happy Batday tooo boo.
Happy Batday, Mr. Deadsideeeent.
Happy Batday tooo boo."
He stirred under the covers, tossing them aside for a moment. "Who's…?" His question went unanswered, recognizing the singer, adopting as best a wide-eyed look of surprise upon realizing what was going on. She launched into a second reprise of the famous chorus, a puckish smile now gracing her lovely face even if he couldn't see it.
"Happy Batday tooo boo.
Happy Batday tooo boo.
Happy Batday, Mr. Deadsideeeent.
Happy Batday tooo boo."
--------------------
Uncle Deadly had to admit it, Jack was right, there was a certain air of quiet romantic charm in a nighttime rendezvous with Ellie atop the summit of Spiral Hill. They could see most of the town at their feet, unhindered by the cold climate since they were already dead—and loving it. Fingers laced together, their heads leaned back upon the firmly-planted tombstones. Looking up to the vast heavenly void, Deadly was filled with a sense of fulfillment.
"My dearest friend if you don't mind.
I'd like to join you by your side.
Where we can gaze into the stars," he sang to his ghoul.
"And sit together.
Now and forever.
For it is plain as anyone can see.
We're simply meant to be."
Both dragons smiled, enjoying their time away from the rest of the crowd of foolish mortals.
------------
He had been pleasantly surprised, both by how she had woken him and how it felt to have her snuggled with him. Their bodies beneath the covers, only their heads poked out of the protective coccoon piled on top. "Happy New Year, Darling," she purred into his ear, that spark of merriment beautifying the langorous look of lazed content in her eyes. She guided one of his hands a little up so he would find the tip of something fuzzy and green—not orange!—mischievously smiling. "Wha..." For the second time that night, his question went without a reply, probably because of the liplock she was administering. Yes, a very happy New Year indeed, he thought, falling back into the bliss of her denuded embrace.
---------------------
Having closed the club, Count von Count was now regailing the remaining souls with a classic Christmas tale. It helped that he knew this one by heart, though a few lines garnered a laugh or two when he got distracted by the things to count in the story itself. A minor distraction or two later, they got to the big finish.
"And I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight..."
And then, what do you think happened? Yep, a two-headed monster Santa popped his (or is it "its"?) heads for the last line.
"Merry Creemas to all, and to all a goo nite."
The entire restaurant echoed the sentiment.
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
The End.
"Much" The End.
------------------
Autumn might never have been on the stage in her life, but she was
prepared for her upcoming performance. Having learned a thing or two at the feet of a master diva from the times they had met in Las Vegas and New York, she would deliver her gifts with considerable aplomb.
---------------
Back at the club, there was an air of coziness due to the oven/stove unit from the kitchen, its inner doors were left open. Mrs. Plum, a corpulent half-corpsely woman, ladled cups of hot chocolate onto the tray held by Junie. Chef Machiavelli, a visitor to the staff helped out banging the naughty tentacles threatening to escape confinement back into the pot. The raisin rice pudding finished steaming, ready to be taken to the head vampires' table. One of the co-owners happily graced the local hotspot with his presence, his girlfiend in toe. Placing their winter coats on the coatrack, they proceeded to the corner booth usually reserved for the establishment's founders. The organ sounded clear and jolly during the day, carolls sung, the spooks enjoying the spirit of the season.
Dinner having come and gone, compliments paid to the chefs for the excellently braised meat and vegetables stew, Countess Dahling gasped with pleasant surprise at the snow starting to fall. She directed her boo-blooded beau's attention to the nearby window. The Count was equally ecstatic. Thinking they needed no excuse other than being snowed in with her, he started to sing, his Countess joining in on every second line or so, lending her vampiric vocals to the harmony.
"Oh the vethre outside is frightful."
"But the fire is so delightful."
"Yes, and since we've no place to go."
"Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow."
"Oh it doesn't show signs of stopping."
"And I brought some corn for popping."
"The lights all brightly glow."
"Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow."
"Vhen ve finally say good night.
How I'll loathe going out in this storm!"
"But if you really hold me tight."
"All the way home I'll be warm."
"The Fire is slowly dying."
"But my dear, we're still goodbyeing."
"And since we've no place to go."
"Let it snow!"
"That's 1," he counted.
"Let it snow!"
"That's 2," he continued.
"Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow."
"That's 5 "let it snow's", ah I love it!"
------------
Producing a skeleton key out of nowhere, she entered his house as easily—and as stealthily—as she had his heart. The pale cream of her rustling dress complimented her own tone, the long floor-length skirt trailing in her wake. She found him lying somewhat asleep on his bed. Checking the time, she knew he had just ended a nocturnal shift, so there was a good chance she'd be able to rouse him after the first chorus. Swaying slowly as if to an unheard melody and sashaying closer to her unwitting prey, her dulcit voice began to belt out her holiday greetings.
"Happy Batday tooo boo.
Happy Batday tooo boo.
Happy Batday, Mr. Deadsideeeent.
Happy Batday tooo boo."
He stirred under the covers, tossing them aside for a moment. "Who's…?" His question went unanswered, recognizing the singer, adopting as best a wide-eyed look of surprise upon realizing what was going on. She launched into a second reprise of the famous chorus, a puckish smile now gracing her lovely face even if he couldn't see it.
"Happy Batday tooo boo.
Happy Batday tooo boo.
Happy Batday, Mr. Deadsideeeent.
Happy Batday tooo boo."
--------------------
Uncle Deadly had to admit it, Jack was right, there was a certain air of quiet romantic charm in a nighttime rendezvous with Ellie atop the summit of Spiral Hill. They could see most of the town at their feet, unhindered by the cold climate since they were already dead—and loving it. Fingers laced together, their heads leaned back upon the firmly-planted tombstones. Looking up to the vast heavenly void, Deadly was filled with a sense of fulfillment.
"My dearest friend if you don't mind.
I'd like to join you by your side.
Where we can gaze into the stars," he sang to his ghoul.
"And sit together.
Now and forever.
For it is plain as anyone can see.
We're simply meant to be."
Both dragons smiled, enjoying their time away from the rest of the crowd of foolish mortals.
------------
He had been pleasantly surprised, both by how she had woken him and how it felt to have her snuggled with him. Their bodies beneath the covers, only their heads poked out of the protective coccoon piled on top. "Happy New Year, Darling," she purred into his ear, that spark of merriment beautifying the langorous look of lazed content in her eyes. She guided one of his hands a little up so he would find the tip of something fuzzy and green—not orange!—mischievously smiling. "Wha..." For the second time that night, his question went without a reply, probably because of the liplock she was administering. Yes, a very happy New Year indeed, he thought, falling back into the bliss of her denuded embrace.
---------------------
Having closed the club, Count von Count was now regailing the remaining souls with a classic Christmas tale. It helped that he knew this one by heart, though a few lines garnered a laugh or two when he got distracted by the things to count in the story itself. A minor distraction or two later, they got to the big finish.
"And I heard him exclaim, as he drove out of sight..."
And then, what do you think happened? Yep, a two-headed monster Santa popped his (or is it "its"?) heads for the last line.
"Merry Creemas to all, and to all a goo nite."
The entire restaurant echoed the sentiment.
"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
The End.
"Much" The End.
FOUR! Four new stories! Ah ah ah! I love it! *crack* BOOM*