Digital Underground - uXu - Underground eXperts United #uxu-481

### ### ### ### ### #### ### ### ### #### ### ### ##### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ### ##### ### ### ########## ### ### ########## ### ### ### ### Underground eXperts United Presents... ####### ## ## ####### # # ## ## ####### #### ## ## ## ## ##### ## ## ## ## ## #### ## ## #### # # ####### ####### ## ## ## ## ## ##### ## ## ## ## ## ## ####### ####### # # ## ####### ###### [ A Happy Christmas Story ] [ By Max West ] ____________________________________________________________________ ____________________________________________________________________ A HAPPY CHRISTMAS STORY BY MAX WEST Lewis settled down on the hardwood toilet seat, grunting with self content. That Yuletide season sure makes a guy feel jolly, and he wanted to feel jolly; so very jolly. Out in the kitchen, it was true, his girlfriend, sprawled on the Formica like a spilt bag of groceries, wasn't what he'd planned - she O.D.'ed on cheap H' in the excitement of the season. But after all, shit will happen. He was wondering if she'd mind, up in Heaven, if he had just one little quicky before he moved her to the dumpster over at the Shop n Go parking lot; she'd always been a generous gal - he thought it'd be alright. "You crazy whore!" he choked with sudden emotion. "Why'd you have to kill yourself just when we were making love? Well", he hedged, "I guess we weren't exactly making love. At least not at that particular moment." He flushed briefly at the thought of his limp member - downers and booze - dangling like a piece of salt water taffy and his frantic efforts to try and cram it into the unreachable bull's eye. Jeez! It'd been like trying to shove a handful of Jello into a straw... He was over that now, and he smiled down at the Gallo salami, replacing the Chinese noodle, threatening to rip loose at any minute. Oh yeah! He'd made up his mind: Santa's little helper was going to be busy this very special night. He'd barely finished smelling his hands at the sink, when the doorbell rang. "Goddamn it, who the fuck is that?" The black eyes of the inscrutable toilet paper caddy on the back of the seat looked innocent. It was a dirty pink and white crocheted, Southern Bell doll, present from his first wife - but he had a feeling that even if it did know, it wouldn't say. When Lewis cautiously cracked the front door, his old drinking pal, Dirk, swayed toward him, red eyed and unzipped knee deep in gusting snow. Behind his soused bulk swayed three or four Christmas revelers. Lewis couldn't make them out at first, but by the sound of gagging, spitting, coughing and pissing he knew it had to be Neal, Mendoza, Trudy and Jane. Trudy, speeding her brains out as usual had half her clothes off, dispite the cold, wagged a dildo with the head of Santa on it in his face: "Merry Fuckin' Christmas, Asshole!" she laughed brushing by into the house heading for the kitchen, followed by everybody else except Neal, past out on the walk. Sitting around the cheery blaze of the car tire in the fireplace, glazed and drooling, Morphine surrettes happilly hanging from arm, neck or foot (this year, Lew had decided to get everyone something they could really use) they shared a silent moment while their minds slogged off into the sparkling night. Lewis, who had eschewed the path of the mattress', for the more lively joys provided by Lady Meth and the Christmas Crack Pipe, suddenly jumped up, a weird and novel idea, inspired by the holiday season, lighting his Tiki face. "C'mon! let's pray!" "Shit!" yelled Jane, "What a wild fucken' idea! Lewis, you are the shits!" When she looked around at the mirror bright eyes glowing from every face like the reflection of burning sulfur, she knew they were agreed. "Let's do it!" The others chimed in at something so unexpected and just plain jolly. That Lewis! Yeah, sure, he was a drug addict, sodomizer, murderer and necrophiliac, but a hell of a host! "So, dude, like how's this deal go man?" Trudy asked. Lewis, bloated with the Christmas spirit forgave her the lapse into street lingo, (but if she called him 'dude' one more time he'd have to kill her), put his hands together in front of him showing them how to start. "Now, close your eyes", he prompted, "That means you too Mendoza... c'mon now!" Mendoza, stubborn, got a sullen gleam in his bloodshot eyes, and a hand doing a stealthy creep toward the crotch of his skin tight jeans; he gave a snort of contempt. "OK, here's what we say: 'Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray...'" He looked around pointedly to make sure everyone was still with him. "'... the Lord my soul to keep'" "Heavy." From Neal. Over the decorated mantle a special glow began to manifest and it seemed to Neal that beautiful singing as if from a celestial chorus raised in adoration or maybe screaming like tortured cats he couldn't decide which - began to fill the room, first far off and then near. The sound was hard to nail down exactly, but it wasn't coming from him. His focus was on the reddish glow centered directly behind and above Lewis, rapidly spreading from the fireplace to the walls. Just before someone screamed "F-F-Fire!" Neal was sure he saw an upside down cross forming up there, but in the rush for the door, all was immediately forgotten. Outside in the night, glittering like sugar crystals and softly reflecting green and red lights, the approaching group armed and in camouflage, surrounding the house, had set fire to the chimney, trying to smoke Lewis out. They could hear Mendoza through the windows say as he ran for his weapons, "I told you it was a bunch of bullshit! Goddamn nobody ever listens to me!" The Neighborhood Watch, long aggravated and frightened by the multicolored party lights, squeals of ecstasy and mutilated body parts which seemed to be vital accessories to Lewis' suspicious lifestyle, waited. They all held either automatic weapons or shot guns which they used without restraint, mowing down Trudy, Jane and Neal as they bolted from the burning house. Far above this lively scene, if anyone other than little Kevin (five year old Polio victim; lives with welfare mom) had noticed a familiar silhouette of sleigh and reindeer crossed the very jolly full moon and was gone in a flash. Some of the shooters did remark later that they thought they could hear up in the sky, a hearty "MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL!!" and the tinkling of silver bells; but if that had really been the case, it was mostly lost in the excitement of what for some had been their first kill. Lewis and Mendoza weren't going down on Christmas Eve without a fight. Using the riddled corpses of their friends for cover, grinning lurid yellow and red in the merry glow of his smoldering house on this Night of Nights, they locked and loaded. They were Santa's Little Helpers, hot wired on a 220 Volt Kamikaze mission for the North Pole. Behind a wall of hot strafing lead they hollered, going over the top: "Merry Christmas to All, Motherfuckers!!!!!!!" Ain't that just like an American? DECEMBER 98 --------------------------------------------------------------------------- uXu #481 Underground eXperts United 1998 uXu #481 Call RIPCO II -> 773-528-5020 ---------------------------------------------------------------------------

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