Choose Your Own Misery Holidays

By Mary Nielsen on Dec 24, 2014 in christmas, Stories

This is a mini-miserable story written by Jilly Gagnon & Mike MacDonald.

F*** that, they already forced you to endure their horror show version of the holidays; they will not raid your stores, too.

“Thanks so much, guys, but I just don’t have anything like that,” you say, then, in one swift motion, nudge the man’s foot out of the door with your own, and slam it closed, locking it and flipping the deadbolt for good measure.

Immediately they start pounding on the door.

“Sir. SIR. Excuse me, sir, but as carolers we expect to be served after a performance.”

You roll your eyes.

“In the name of all that is nog-based, OPEN THIS DOOR!” he yells.

You move into the living room; from this angle, you can see the front entry without being seen. Leader’s face is turning a terrifying shade of purple. He pounds again, so hard you hear the door frame shake slightly.

“IN THE NAME OF KRAMPUS, THE DARK LORD OF CHRISTMAS EVIL, I COMMAND YOU TO OPEN THIS DOOR.”

This man is actually insane. Thank a real god that you didn’t let him into your house.

Finally, after about a minute, you see the carolers tramping down your walk. You fist pump, muttering “YESSS” under your breath.

A few minutes later, you hear the sounds of booted feet mounting the stairs again.

The carolers are back...with several of your neighbors. And your landlord.

The F***?

“Sir, the entire community agrees, your actions tonight are unconscionable,” Leader says. You huddle on the sofa and flick off the lights.

“SIR, COME OUT HERE AND FACE ME LIKE A MAN.”

You flick nervously through your facebook feed as he continues to shout at your door.

“I don’t like renting to scrooges,” your landlord says ominously. Whatever, there is no “carolers” clause in your lease.

Eventually--finally--they leave.

More nog for you.

* * * * *

The next morning you wake up feeling amazing. Sticking it to those carolers really did wonders for your sleep. So did all the rum and dairy.

You head outside, feeling peppy. As you close the door behind you, you imagine yourself actually being productive at the office. Hey, why not? And since no one does anything during the holidays, you’ll look extra good!

That’s when you see it.

Someone has carved a crude, primitive-looking grinch into your front door. But what it lacks in artistry, it makes up for in depth; it’s at least an inch into the wood.

F***, you’re not only going to have to repaint the thing, you’ll probably have to spackle it first. Possibly before you even head to the office; if your landlord sees this, he’ll pretend it’s still there when your lease is up just to f*** you out of the security deposit.

Seriously, people? Over carolers? Everyone hates carolers.

Everyone except your neighbors, that is. You turn towards the street and spot a circle of snow...yes, those are definitely snow carolers, carved with uncanny detail, and they’re all huddled around a crude straw man, your face printed out and pinned to the head, which someone has lit on fire.

Maybe you shouldn’t drive your car today, just in case. You need brake lines with this much snow on the roads.

On your way to the train stop, you spot your elderly neighbor. At least she’ll be nice; you always say hello, and just last week you shoveled out her driveway after a storm. You’d expected more than a “thanks,” but hey, maybe it will pay dividends now.

You’re just about to say good morning when she spots you…

...and hisses, teeth bared to the gums.

At the end of the block, you spot a hand-lettered sign taped up to the lamppost.

“Caroling in the neighborhood EVERY NIGHT UNTIL CHRISTMAS!!” it says, each letter drawn to look like a demented candy cane.

You really should stick to your guns; you’ve already seen the worst of it…

...then again, it might not hurt to pick up some cider and cinnamon sticks on the way home and throw it all in the crockpot. Just to be safe.

END

To read more about the Choose Your Own Misery series click here.