User:Executive/Sandbox8
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I was sitting in my living room very late at night, watching The Christmas That Almost Wasn't. I knew the fat, jolly bastard would be arriving soon, and I would be waiting for him. I've been waiting for this moment for years ever since St. Dickolas gave me coal for Christmas four years in a row, despite my good behavior. I'll shove that stocking full of coal up his ass and show him how funny it is.
I was dozing off when I heard it. The sound I could recognize anywhere. The fat bastard's heavy stomps on my rooftop. It's showtime. I sprang up off of the couch and hid behind the Christmas tree. I stay there for a little bit when I hear a loud tumble and an audible "Ah, shit.. that hurt." The fat bastard had entered the point of no return. Of course the jolly prick went straight to the kitchen, where he helped himself to the milk and cookies I laid out. I put a small amount of laxative and LSD in the cookies. I'm also pretty sure he got into the liquor cabinet because I heard him say something about a "Mr. Jack Daniels," with glass clinking around. He laid the presents under the tree, I was so close to him I could smell the liquor and cookies on him. Somehow, he didn't see me.
Then he walks over to the stalking, I peek around the tree. I see the lump of coal in his hand.
No the fuck you don't. (Full article...)
