Chapter One cont'd.
He slams doors to the barn behind him, swooshing the smell of reindeer poo out into the crisp morning air and quickly, heads over toward The Grand commissary for his daily breakfast. The white, fluffy snow crunches beneath his feet as he makes his way through the village. Greeting passers by with a sneer and a grumbling tone he hurries to the smell of hotcakes, sausage, and strong coffee that swirls out of the Grand Commissary's front doors. He pushes past his fellow elves dressed all cozy and warm in their multi-colored elf suits, huddle in the food line patiently waiting for their breakfast. "Coming through, Head Elf! Important person needs chow!" Pushing, shoving, and out and out forcing his way through the crowd just like he does every morning. "Hey Sally, how's the coffee, today?" "It's hot, sweet, and strong just like you, Rudy!" Sally flirts with him just like she does every morning. "You're too sweet, Sal! That's why you're my favorite!" Rudy compliments his biggest and only fan as she piles his plate with the best of the buffet and makes sure he has the freshest, bestest cup of coffee in the whole place. "Ah, you're a lifesaver, Sal! What would I do without you?" "The question is what would you do with me?" Sally replies to him in her sexiest voice. "Huh, Rudy?" He blushes as a mix of words and giggles escape his lips in the shy tone hardly anyone has ever witnessed in him,"Oh, Sally, he he, you'll have to let me get back to you on that one. See you later, o.k.?" He mosies over to his own private table and sheepishly begins eating his morning meal as Sally keeps an eye on him the entire time.As he munches down on his fine chow Tony, The East Coast Elf comes over to bend Rudy's ear. "Hey Big Man, she wants you more than a kid wants his candy. What's the hold up? Shouldn't she be Mrs. Rudy by, now?" "Yeah, Tony, I don't know, you know I'm kinda married to my job, you know? Running this place isn't a full-time job, it's a lifestyle choice. I don't even have time for myself, Man!" "Didn't you kind of inherit this job when Santa went nutso?" Tony asks Rudy as he helps himself to Rudy's Sweet Potato Patty. Rudy replies with the telling of the biggest scandal that has ever rocked the North Pole. "Yeah, when the 2nd Mrs. Claus took off with Mickey, the last Head Elf, I got stuck in this job because of the seniority factor. Mickey had been doing this job for 2500 years and I was right behind him at 1800 years. At the time I thought I'd landed the promotion of a lifetime, but that was before Santa turned into the biggest heartbroken alcoholic this place has ever seen." "Even Jack Frost wasn't this bad." Rudy says to Tony in the disgust that comes to his mind whenever he flahses back to the first night he helped Santa through the first of his many black-out, puke festivals from the beginning of his, now all to frequent binge parties. "Yeah, well, she loves ya, Pal! You have to put yourself ahead of your job sometimes. Life is love, My Friend. Your job is too much, Rudy!" Tony says as he gets ready to head off to the workshop. "I gotta go clock in, Big Guy. See ya in the trenches!" "O.K. I'll be there soon enough, Tone!" Rudy thinks about what Tony just said as the sweet buttery taste of hotcakes melt in his mouth and the vision of Sally in her daily grind as she looks over to him every couple of minutes melts his heart. "Tony's right!" Rudy thinks to himself as he finishes the food before him and dreads the day ahead. He slams his empty tray down on top of the community commissary trash tubs, glances over his shoulder for one last look at Sal, and begins the short walk around the corner to the waiting work and worry of the workshop. The best thing about this place is the scenery Rudy thinks to himself as he looks around from glowing light to flashing neon, to the beautifully decorated trees that line the entire village. The white of the snow, the colors of Christmas. "This must be why I stay here in this place and at this job!" The creaky, crackly doors of the workshop stand one hundred feet high making three foot two Rudy feel a little smaller than usual and as they open before him the glistening glitter and shiny toys beam out and into the waiting receptacles of his tired, and work weary eyes. It is a sweatshop, but it's still glorious. His feet strike out in stride and he walks into another day at the helm of this Christmas Ship he calls home. Fellow elves, busy themselves as they hammer and paint away he walks with superiority, checks the work, makes suggestions, and goes along down the production line. "Hey Rudy, check this out, Man!" Techie, the elf in charge of all the computer related toys, calls Rudy over as he does.......often.....to the point of annoying Rudy on a daily basis. "Hey Techie, what have you got for me, today?" Rudy asks half interested because Techie was always bugging him about this and that. He thinks Techie is a little crazy, but Rudy's also painfully aware of the importance of keeping up to date so, in an effort to keep things smooth he humors Techie on an almost daily basis. "Check this out. It's a robot that lives on all the yucky foods that kids hate. Broccoli, spinach, brussel sprouts, lima beans, egg(fart)sandwiches. It's great No batteries. The kids just sneak their yucky food to him under the table just like they would a dog, and presto, his cells are charged and full of fuel till' the next disappointing dinner." "Wow, Techie that is gooooooooooooood! Do you think you can make a robot that cleans reindeer poo because we could really use something like that around here!" "I don't know, Rudy. That sounds kind of complicated." "And this isn't?" Rudy questions him impatiently. "Yeah, I guess you're right and your idea is more practical. Those kids should eat the yucky stuff, screw them......uh, but this prototype is already done and we spent alotta money on this toy." "Make them both, Techie!" Rudy orders Techie to work. "Yes sir, Rudy!" "We can handle the poo and the food that tastes like poo!" Techie says to Rudy in a very eager to please tone. "Sounds good. Good work, Techie. I gotta go check on Santa, now."
"Jesus freakin' Christ, here I go again having to go wake the dead that is The Hung Over Santa. Every single morning I'm pullin' that fat bastard out of a pool of his own puke!" Rudy mutters outloud to himself as he climbs the many-layered Oak stairs to what has to be the longest hallway ever to exist that leads to the Big Man's office. The hallway haunts with strings of flashing Christmas lights hanging all different ways which just makes it all the more creepyand foreboding to Rudy as his feet feel unsure as they do every morning when he has to rouse Santa from the drunken stuper of his constant coma. He finally, stands before the wicked huge oak doors with the copper doorknockers shaped like candy canes. His throat dries up, his head throbs, he dreads knocking for fear of what he'll find behind the door. "What kind of freaky situation or state of mind is that fat pathetic bastard going to subject me to, today?" He started talking outloud in a feeble attempt to comfort and calm his jittery, tweaked out nerves. He shuts his eyes tight, reaches out with a shaky hand, grasps the handle on the right-hand side and bangs down hard. Three times. Bam, Bam, Bam! Each time he shudders from the thunderous knocks of the copper. Doors opened slowly to reveal Santa lying down face first in a lake of drool that's on a par sizewise with Lake Michigan. "Urghhhhhh! You lazy old bastard. Look at you. You're sooooo pathetical! You should be rejoicing! You're supposed to be a jolly old elf, not a drunk old bum! "Ah, Rudy! Shut up, shut up, shut up! Your voice is like an icycle piercing my swollen brain!" Santa snaps as he picks himself up off the floor. "How long are you gonna go on like this, Man? It's crazy! The world needs you. Who cares if that tramp of a whore doesn't love you when the whole rst of the world loves you soooooooooo much! Immeasurably, in fact! It's you, Elvis, and God. In that order, Pal! You're the Big Man and you've gotta start acting like it!" Rudy snaps right back at Santa in total disgust.
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