Story 617: New Year, New… What?

            (In an apartment living room on New Year’s Eve, Sibling 1 and Sibling 2 sit on the couch watching the ball drop in some city broadcast live on TV as they each hold fresh mugs of hot chocolate)

TV: Three!... Two!... One!... HAPPY NEW YEAR! (Controlled chaos reigns on the streets)

(Now New Year’s Day, Sibling 1 and Sibling 2 stare vacantly for a few moments at the sparkling ball above the now-lit up year, then simultaneously perk up and tap mugs)

Sibling 1: Happy New Year!

Sibling 2: And a Happy New Year to you, too!

(They take a long sip, slightly burn their tongues, smack their lips in satisfaction, and sigh)

Sibling 2: (Looking into the mug) You know, we’re probably going to regret having something this heavy and this sweet this late in the night.  (Tilts head to think) Or is it now, this early in the morning?

 Sibling 1: (Takes a big gulp and swings the mug away with a flourish) Ahhhhh…. Totally worth it.  (Stares at the mug for a few moments, then over to Sibling 2) It’s funny, I never really thought about this before: you ever get a hangover?

Sibling 2: (After another sip) Hm, once.  Totally not worth it.

Sibling 1: Good to know.  (They watch the storm of confetti and the hugging, kissing, swaying, singing, and general good will on-screen for a bit) You know, I always feel a little different right at the beginning of a new year.

Sibling 2: Oh, really?

Sibling 1: Yeah; I dunno, I feel… renewed, rejuvenated, like anything’s possible and I finally can get my act together.

Sibling 2: Well, that’s… great.

Sibling 1: Yeah.  (Swirls the remaining chocolate in the mug for a bit before looking back at Sibling 2) It’s all gone by the time I wake up New Year’s morning, though.

Sibling 2: I figured.

Sibling 1: (Stares at the far wall) Yep: fall into the same old habits, the same old… rut.  No renewal, no rejuvenation; just back to my old routines like it’s the same year on repeat, and nothing changes for the better.

Sibling 2: Well, that’s not entirely true: you did stick to that workout routine you started a few years ago; that’s something.

Sibling 1: Yeah, but that was in a random March.  If it was in a New Year’s Day, I probably would’ve given up before I even started because the stakes would’ve felt too high.

Sibling 2: Maybe not.

Sibling 1: (Chuckling) Oh, I know me.  (Finishes off the hot chocolate, then gestures with the mug toward the kitchen) You good or you want some more?

Sibling 2: Still nursing mine, but thanks.

Sibling 1: Sure.  (Looks down at the empty mug, then places it off to the side on the floor and slouches back on the couch) I guess I should cut myself off at one – probably’ll wake up in a few hours anyway, cursing my past self and wondering where it all went wrong.

Sibling 2: I thought it was going to be totally worth it?

Sibling 1: My taste buds and brain say “Yes”, but my aging digestive system says “I hate you.”

Sibling 2: Know the feeling.  (Finishes off the hot chocolate and also sets the mug off to the side on the floor and slouches back on the couch as Sibling 1 uses a remote to turn off the TV) So, no New Year’s resolutions this time, huh?

Sibling 1: (Yawning) Well, I’ll just do the usual: try to be a better person, more patient, nicer, volunteer with worthy causes, solve all the world’s problems, prevent the inevitable end of the Universe, that sort of thing – but I always fail on Day 1, so I really don’t know why I bother.  You?

Sibling 2: (Also yawning) The usual: try to do as least damage as possible on my trips around the Sun until my inevitable end.

Sibling 1: (As they stare at each other while lying back on opposite ends of the couch; starting to fall asleep) Wow.  That’s a lofty goal....

Sibling 2: (While drifting off) Well, you know me: aim high.... 

HAPPY NEW ZZZZZZZZ....

Story 616: I Was Dreaming of a White Christmas… But Not Anymore

             December 24, 20XX 

Dear Santa, 

I would like to start this letter with an expression of gratitude, which I am certain is so rarely received on your end.  I can guarantee that 99.9999999%, if not 100%, of your one-way correspondence consists of “I want”, “I need”, “I really want”, and “GIMME!”, with not one piece of mail dated December 26 that is a thank-you note.  Well, let me be possibly the first – possibly the only – to write to you saying:

Thank you, dear Santa Claus, for all the bounty you have bestowed upon me over the years.  I deeply appreciate all the efforts of you, Mrs. Claus, the elves, the reindeer, and everyone else on your staff each and every year to please the materialist desires of all the children of the world, even if they are on the Naughty List (let’s face it, who has ever really gotten only coal as a present?  That’s what I thought).  Your hard work, and all the pleasure it brings, does not go unnoticed.

I especially appreciate the granting of my biggest request of all time that you finally granted last year: after so many unseasonably warm Christmases full of rain and mud, last year I wrote to you with all my heart asking for just one more true, magical, wondrous White Christmas.  And by golly, you delivered!  I looked out my window the morning of December 25 and the world was covered in a blanket of the good stuff, making everything look soft, wholesome, and beautiful.  It was glorious, and I will be eternally grateful to you for granting that request and creating a truly special day filled with the loveliness that only a winter wonderland can bring.

OK, now onto the meat of this criticism sandwich:

I realize that you are used to permanent winter up where you reside – I am guessing that you actually prefer it that way – but in the latitude where I reside, all the living creatures here have only ever lived in a climate with, you know, seasons.  It is possible that you may not be aware of this, but that amazing White Christmas you gifted last year never stopped.  As in, NEVER.  STOPPED.  We are now on Day 365 of continuous snowfall, with no end in sight due to the apparently self-perpetuating cloud formations that hover over us like a prophecy of doom fulfilled.  There was no spring, no summer, and no autumn; just one long, unending winter.   At first everyone laughed about it as January rolled into February, saying we finally got a real winter again after years of mush so of course we are never satisfied when it commits to the role, but then March rolled into April, and when Mother’s Day came around everyone knew we had a problem.  Thank goodness the effect was localized to our town and we never were cut off from outside deliveries of food and other necessities, but the animals who had migrated from force of habit still have not come back, and those who usually stick it out packed up and left in June, along with a third of the town’s human population.  And sure, there is sledding, and snowball fights, and occasional “snow days” that are rendered meaningless by technology for working or attending school remotely, but it all wears a bit then when you are falling on the icy sidewalk for the thirtieth time or watching yet another 10-car pile-up due to frozen potholes or the plows breaking down trying to keep up with the continual accumulation.  There are committees now that regularly patrol the streets knocking snow off of trees and checking homes’ and businesses’ rooftops so that the gradually increasing weight of all those pretty little frozen pieces of water do not crush everything underneath them.  I shovel a few inches outside my window at the end of every day just so I can look through it the following morning and confirm that the world out there still exists, and nearly everyone’s water pipers burst at least twice before a notice went out to wrap them all up and keep a hairdryer on standby.  The power surprisingly has mostly managed to stay on – there was one weekend we now refer to as “The Fourth of July Freeze-Out”, but otherwise electricity has been consistent.  Still, it is no fun trick-or-treating with snowshoes and ski poles – what kind of ballet dancer or astronaut is that supposed to be? – and all the ice cream parlors went out of business before we reached August in our Year Without a Summer.  At Thanksgiving, everyone said they were thankful that their furnaces still worked, and that was it.

So, I write to you again, dear Santa Claus, to please flip the switch on the never-ending snowfall, and bring back the rain – or, better yet, move along the permanent clouds for at least three months so that everything can dry out, and then bring back the rain in time for spring, and for at least something to grow this year.  We will even take a gentle tornado at this point, if only it would suck up all the snow that, at its current untouched height, has now surpassed the water tower.

I thank you again for last year’s thoughtful gift and humbly ask for this one last present, and I promise that I will never write to you asking for anything else for the rest of my life.

Well, except for maybe peace on Earth and goodwill toward all, but I know that is a bit of a stretch.

                                                                         With Shivering Affection, 

                                                                         Snowed-In Sandy, Age 10

Story 615: Destination: North Pole – Santa’s House

             Expedition Log, Day 165: I pause in the middle of my trek through the Arctic tundra to enter these notes before reaching my final goal, the North Pole.  Specifically: Santa’s Workshop.  The dogs who I commandeered to pull me along with the supply sled have long since abandoned us both and reclaimed their freedom – can’t say I blame them.  Those supplies have dwindled to the point where I may not have enough for the return journey: water is not an issue since I am surrounded by it in a semi-frozen state, but food may be since any animals who actually live up here are scarce, I’m no hunter anyway, and plants suitable for my species to survive apparently don’t thrive in this biome.  On the other hand, the journey back should be significantly shorter than the journey here since, due to a grave miscalculation, I originally found myself on the opposite side of the planet in the South Pole (the presence of penguins revealed my error).

No matter: at last, I have reached journey’s end, and am ready to confront The Man, The Myth, The Legend in his stronghold.  Wish me luck!

(Explorer trudges through the mountains of snow toward a large castle, stops at the main entrance to hyperventilate a bit, and raises a fist to pound on the front door)

Santa Claus: (Opening the door before Explorer can pound on it) Ah, you made it!  Come on in!  (Holds the door open wider and waves Explorer inside)

Explorer: (Still standing with fist raised) Diiiiiiid you know I was coming?

Santa Claus: Of course!  “He sees you when you’re sleeping”, and all that.  Naturally, that’s just hyperbole: I don’t watch anyone sleeping, that’s creepy.  (Explorer still stands there) So, you coming in or what?  The heat’s getting out.

Explorer: Oh!  Right.  (Finally lowers the raised hand and rushes into a large room filled with cushioned furniture, Christmas decorations, and a huge roaring fireplace as Santa Claus bolts the door shut)  This… isn’t your workshop.

Santa Claus: (Walks to the fireplace and increases the settings from “Full Blast” to “Inferno”) Hm?  Oh, yes, the factory’s in the back courtyard – we moved operations off-site about a century ago so the missus and elves and I could really “go home” after a hard day’s work, know what I mean?  So – (Gestures to a gigantic sofa) Have a seat!  I’ll get something to warm you right up – favorite’s still peppermint hot cocoa with a little whipped cream on top, yes?

Explorer: (Sinking slowly into the sofa, full-body shaking reduced to a gentle shiver) Um, yes please, thank you.

Santa Claus: Coming right up!  Think I’ll make one for myself, too.  (Hums “Deck the Halls” while entering an industrial kitchen, then magics up two large mugs of hot cocoa and a plate of cookies and brings them out on a tray) Here you are!

Explorer: (Staring in awe at the tray) Wow, that’s amazing!  Thanks, Santa!  (Takes a mug)

Santa Claus: Ho-ho-ho, my pleasure!  Cookie?  Fresh out of the oven, in a manner of speaking.

Explorer: Oh sure, yes, thank you!  (Takes a sugar cookie, bites into it, and closes eyes) Tastes like childhood….

Santa Claus: (Sets the tray onto a large low table and sits in an armchair) Wait till you drink the cocoa.  You don’t even have to wait for it to cool off – it’s not too hot, not too cold.

(They both take a sip, then sigh)

Explorer: Heaven.

Santa Claus: Close enough.  So!  (Places the mug onto a coaster on the table) Now that you’re safely back from borderline hypothermia, what brings you all the way to this end of the globe, hm?

Explorer: Well, not to sound rude, but like you said earlier, don’t you already know?

Santa Claus: I do, but I’d rather hear it in your own words.

Explorer: OK.... (Takes another contented sip and then sets down the mug on a coaster) Well, Santa, I came all this way, looking for you, for a very special request.  (Santa Claus nods in encouragement) I’ll keep giving presents and donating and all that, but the one gift I want this year is something literally no one else on Earth can give me, and you’re my last hope.

Santa Claus: Yes?

Explorer: This year, I want… well… I want what I lost.  I want… The Spirit.

Santa Claus: Of… Christmas Past?

Explorer: No!  Well, actually, sort of: I want The Spirit of the Season.  That I used to have.

Santa Claus: (Chuckles) Ah yes, of course.  Please go on.

Explorer: (Stands and starts pacing around the sofa) It’s hard to explain.  I mean, I know I was lucky.  I grew up in a great family and a great home, and Christmas was always a wonderful time of year for me – I’m not talking about the presents, it was everything else: the decorations, the snow, the cookies, the ice skating, the caroling, the parties with family and friends, the Advent wreaths, the Nativity scenes, the colored lights hung up everywhere, and just the – the –

Santa Claus: (Nods encouragingly) Yes?

Explorer: (Stops pacing) The feeling!  Warmth, happiness – joy!  Joy to the world, and I truly believed it!  And then… and now… (Sinks into the sofa again) it’s all gone.

Santa Claus: Hm.  I think that’s called “puberty”.

Explorer: Oh, Santa!  (Slumps further into the sofa) I could take almost every other disappointment growing up, but I tried so hard to hold onto – this – (Waves at the surrounding room) and it still got away from me!  Why do hormones have to ruin everything?!

Santa Claus: I think if we knew the answer to that, there truly would be peace on Earth.  Now, you know I can’t give you your childhood back –

Explorer: (Grumbles, staring at a pillow with a giant nutcracker embroidered on it) I know, I know.

Santa Claus: (Laying a finger aside of his nose) BUT – (Explorer perks up) I can give you one day.

Explorer: One day?

Santa Claus: Yes: One Christmas Day to relive, your happiest one, from when you were, let me think… (Strokes beard in thought) yes!  When you were 8: old enough to really appreciate everything, and far enough back when your grandparents and first furry companions still were with us, and you were surrounded by family and love and joy and all was right in your own world.  Would you like that?

Explorer: (Stands, almost in tears) Oh Santa, that sounds wonderful, thank-you-thank-you-thank-you!

Santa Claus: (Also stands and the two hug) Of course!  After all, you’ve always been on the Nice List.

Explorer: (Sniffles) I try!

Santa Claus: (Patting Explorer soothingly on the back) And if this’ll keep you from tracking me down at home in the future….

Explorer: (Pulls back) Oh Santa, you’ll never see me ever again!  One day, from when I was truly happy, will be enough to last all my life!

Santa Claus: I certainly hope so.

(Explorer, age 8, wakes up on Christmas morning)

Explorer: (Jumps out of bed and runs to the living room) It’s Christmas, yay!

(Family members are sitting on the floor and in chairs facing the Christmas tree; snow is falling gently outside, carols are playing from a speaker nearby, and the smell of pine and cookies fill the air)

Family Members: Merry Christmas!

Explorer: Merry Christmas, everybody!  (Goes around the room hugging parents, grandparents, siblings, and a cat and dog) This is the best Christmas ever!

(Back in the North Pole, Santa Claus is seated on the sofa and watches the scene on a flat-screen television above the fireplace as Mrs. Claus enters from another room, wearing overalls and taking off work gloves)

Santa Claus: (Turns away from the screen) Hello, dear; how was the factory today?

Mrs. Claus: (Puts on a cozy velvet dress over the overalls) Everything’s running smoothly, love: I finished fixing the video game generator for when you take over on tomorrow’s shift.

Santa Claus: Splendid, thank you!  (Turns back to the television and watches 8-year-old Explorer and family opening presents)

Mrs. Claus: (Walks up behind the sofa to watch) Manipulating the laws of time and space again, are we?

Santa Claus: Hm?  (Turns back to look at Mrs. Claus) Oh no, this is all in that child’s head.  (Points to Explorer on the screen) Well, that child’s actually an adult now, and the one thing wanted for Christmas was the Spirit of the Season that was lost at some point, so I gave the gift of reliving good memories.  Came all the way up here to ask and everything.

Mrs. Claus: Ah, so that’s why you wanted today off.  Why didn’t you just tell me?

Santa Claus: Well, there was an off-chance that even though the trek was long, this one’d turn tail and head home at the last minute, so I didn’t want to spoil things by mentioning it out loud beforehand.  Superstitious, I know, but there it is.

Mrs. Claus: Understood.  So your guest is all snug in bed at home right now?

Santa Claus: Mm-hm.  And having a wonderful dream, if I may say so myself.  Even though it’s from memories, I made it happen.

Mrs. Claus: Uh-huh.  I thought you didn’t watch them while they’re sleeping?

Santa Claus: …Well, I’m not watching the person, I’m watching the dream.

Mrs. Claus: Ah, got it.

Santa Claus: (Turning full attention back to the screen) Troublemaker.  (Mrs. Claus chuckles)

(On the screen, Explorer looks around at the happy scene and then up at the Santa Claus tree topper)

Explorer: (Whispering) Thank you, Santa.

Santa Claus: (As Mrs. Claus lovingly squeezes his shoulder; he pats her hand and takes off his glasses to brush away a tear) I love my job.

Story 614: When the Cat Takes Over the Christmas Tree

             In a break from my routine of sleeping-eating-napping-eating-resting-playing-eating-sleeping-napping-sleeping-training the servants-sleeping-deeper sleeping-relaxing, the servants have suddenly installed a new object for my entertainment.  At first glance, I thought it was one of those outdoor prey towers – the trunk and needles were a clever ruse – but one whiff revealed the lie.  Whatever it is, it imitates Nature but is in itself Unnatural; the servants may have fooled themselves, but not me.  Never me.  Still – can’t turn down an opportunity to ascend the highest heights, so up I climb….

Parent 1: Honey, have you seen the cat?

Parent 2: Not lately; did you check behind the couch?

Parent 1: Yeah, and also the backs of the closets – nothing.

Parent 2: Well, she couldn’t have gotten out, so just let’s start decorating the Christmas tree and she’ll eventually turn up to play with the tissue paper.

From my strategic position near the top of this so-called “tree”, I observe the servants below adding oddly-shaped items to the branches.  This all seems familiar, although I can’t specifically recall seeing them do this before.  Then again, I can’t specifically recall seeing anything before, so that isn’t too concerning.

Parent 1: Heh, remember this ornament?

Parent 2: Oh yeah, that was from our trip last summer.

Parent 1: …It was three summers ago.

Parent 2: Really?... Oh yeah, I guess it was.  Well, there goes my life.

Little do they know that I wait in the recesses of this tower as they come closer and closer with their baubles – soon, if I am patient, those treasures will be mine.

Parent 2: You think we should leave off some stuff this year?  I feel like we get more and more ornaments but less and less tree.

Parent 1: Nah, that’s a slippery slope: you leave off some ornaments one year, and soon enough it’s entire boxes that sit unopened year after year after year.

Parent 2: I guess, but at some point I start wondering if there are so many that they’re smothering the lights and creating a fire hazard.

Parent 1: That’s a good point…. Remember the bubble lights we had back in the day?  Talk about a hazard.

Parent 2: Yeah, but they were also strangely soothing.

The bipeds have overcome their literal shortcomings by artificially increasing their height with a metal contraption, and are now encroaching onto my territory – the treasures start to invade my space – I must assert my dominance now or be forever oppressed by these creatures –

Parent 1: Aaaaaahhhhh!!!!

Parent 2: Whoa, careful on the ladder!  What happened?!

Parent 1: …I found the cat.

Parent 2: What?  Ohhhhh, how’d you get in there, sweetie?  Here, let me get you out of all that, you widdle sugar plum dumpling baby!  Now, let’s go riiiiiiiight over to your food, and stay out of that big ol’ tree – we wouldn’t want you breaking anything or hurting yourself, would we, cuddle-pie?

Parent 1: Almost gave me a heart attack.  How’d she get all the way up there without us seeing?

Parent 2: Who knows?  They can get in the highest and the tightest spaces without disturbing a thing – I just don’t want her getting stuck in there or knocking stuff off or, perish the thought, knocking the whole tree over.

Parent 1: Ugh, could you imagine the mess?  Definitely would take me out of the holiday spirit having to clean that up.

As I gnaw on these bland rocks they dare to present to me as “food”, I unobtrusively monitor their progress in covering the “tree” with artificial nonsense, and plot my revenge.  Yes – while they sleep – that is when I will summit the monolith and declare my victory over their feeble attempts at usurping my authority.

That star at the top will be the first to go.

Story 613: Thanksgiving Overabundance

             (In a house full of people on Thanksgiving, Host is in the kitchen with Relative 1 and Relative 2 cooking everything at once as the doorbell rings)

Host: (Without looking up from basting a turkey in the oven) Somebody get that!  (Mutters as the front door is opened by other relatives) One thing I get out of doing today….

(Relative 3 enters, still wearing a winter coat, hat, and gloves, and carrying a large covered pan)

Relative 3: Happy Thanksgiving!

Host and Relatives 1 and 2: (Momentarily looking up from whatever pot/pan/cutting board they are working on) Hiiiiiiiii…..

Host: (Double-takes and then points the baster at Relative 3’s pan) What is that?!

Relative 3: (Holds up the pan) Oh, it’s the second turkey you wanted.

Relative 1: (Stops slicing carrots; to Host) Hey, I thought you wanted me to get the second turkey.

Host: (Closes eyes in frustration) Blast and dangnation, I lost track of what I told people to bring!  (Lifts a cover off of a large pan sitting on the counter and gestures to that and the oven) As you can see, we already have two turkeys!  (Lets the cover drop back onto the pan)

Relative 3: OK, well, this one’s all cooked, so maybe we can do a kind-of turducken situation here, except instead of it being turkey-duck-chicken it’ll be turkey-turkey-turkey?

Relative 2: (Mashing potatoes) I don’t know, those things always feel like crossing a line to me.

Host: We’re eating it either way!

Relative 2: Yeah, but when you get to the point where you’re shoving bodies into each other, it starts to feel like desecration.

Host: Nobody asked you, and we’ve got to do something, we’ve now got three cooked turkeys and not enough stomachs to digest them!

Relative 3: (Arms sagging) Can I at least put this somewhere before you’re back down to two cooked turkeys?

(Relative 1 rushes over to take the pan and brings it with Relative 3 following into the dining room as the doorbell rings)

Host: (Finishes basting the turkey in the oven and slams the door shut) Somebody get that!  (Stirs all the pots of sides and gravy that are on the stove as Relative 1 re-enters the kitchen, washes hands, and goes back to slicing vegetables) What am I gonna do with three turkeys?!

Relative 2: (Slicing bread) Maybe sell one?

Host: (Looks witheringly at Relative 2, then looks away in consideration) Hmmm….

(Relative 4 enters, still wearing a winter coat, hat, and gloves, and carrying a large covered pan)

Relative 4: Happy Thanksgiving!

Host: (Turns off a food processor and stares in disbelief at the pan) That… doesn’t look like the corn casserole I told you to bring.

Relative 4: Oh yeah, that literally fell through, so I had this free turkey from the supermarket that I was going to donate but then realized you were having so many of us over this year that I could donate it to you instead, heh-heh.  (Host still stares at the pan) It’s all cooked and everything, so no sweat.

Host: (Still staring at the pan) I thought you were a vegetarian!

Relative 4: Well, mostly, but I’m sympathetic to the needs of you omnivores.

Relative 1: (As Host still stares at the pan) The thing is, we already have three turkeys.

Relative 4: Oh.  How’d that happen?

Host: (Finally looks at Relative 4) It doesn’t matter how it happened!  Just – put it in the dining room and we’ll figure it out later!  (Relative 2 guides Relative 4 to the dining room; Host rips open a package of mushrooms and starts sautéing them on the stove as the doorbell rings) Somebody get that!  (To Relative 1) At this rate, we’re going to have more turkeys than sides!

Relative 1: (Serenely tearing apart a head a lettuce into a large bowl) Hm.  Want me to run out to the store and grab some corn or peas or something?

Host: Thanks, but I wouldn’t send my worst enemy out on these roads on Thanksgiving.

(Relative 5 enters, still wearing a winter coat, hat, and gloves, and carrying a large covered pan)

Relative 5: Happy Thanks- !

Host: (Whirls on Relative 5) GET OUT!

Relative 5: Huh?

Host: (Points a spoon at the pan) Is that a turkey?!

Relative 5: Well yeah, you kind of need one for Thanksgiving, right?

Host: I TOLD YOU TO BRING CRANBERRY SAUCE!

Relative 5: (Thinks on this for a moment) Oh yeah; how’d I mix those up?

Host: Don’t talk to me. (Resumes stirring everything on the stove frantically as Relative 2 re-enters the kitchen) Great, just great – what am I gonna do with seven turkeys?!

Relative 1: (Gently mixing salad in the bowl) It’s not so bad: you’ve only got five turkeys.

Host: (Shakes the spoon at Relative 1) Not helping!

Relative 2: (Takes the pan from Relative 5) Here: we’ll line it up with the others.

Relative 5: (Following Relative 2 into the dining room) “Others”?

Host: (Swapping out casserole dishes in the microwave) I can’t stand it, I just can’t stand it – the table will be full of turkeys, and no cranberry sauce, no corn casserole, and no potato pie!

Relative 1: (Gasps in mid-salad dressing stir) What?!  Who forgot the potato pie?!

Host: I did when I told two people to bring turkeys!

Relative 1: Oh right, that.  (Goes back to stirring)

Relative 2: (Re-enters the kitchen) I hate to ask, but since everything’s almost done, how do you want to go about carving all the birds?

Host: (Entire body trembles while stirring stuffing, then stops and raises an eyebrow in sudden thought) I have an idea…. 

ONE HOUR LATER 

(At the long dining room table plus an extension, 20 relatives sit facing five cooked turkeys lined down the center of the tables with small dishes of sides and salad squeezed in-between each plate)

Host: (Stands up at the head of the table, raising a glass; relatives all do the same) This Thanksgiving, I am thankful for all of us who could be here today, sharing in the love, the joy, and the companionship of family, and in this wonderful, delicious, and so so abundant meal that was such a team effort to put together.

Relatives: (Smiling) Hear, hear!  (Start to drink)

Host: Also!  (Relatives raise their glasses again) I am so thankful for all of you being so helpful today, in graciously carving out your own, special piece of whichever turkey you choose from the plethora we have available, since we are so blessed with all this bounty.  (Blank stares from Relatives) Don’t be shy – dig in!

(Relatives stare at the turkeys as Host sits back down, satisfied; several grab knives and forks and do their best to carve for themselves and the ones sitting next to them)

Relative 6: (Leaning around a turkey to shout down the table) Can somebody pass the cranberry sauce?

Host: (Coolly drizzling gravy all over a full plate) Cranberry sauce will not be appearing in tonight’s meal.

Relative 6: Oh.  (Looks down in disappointment) The one thing I was looking forward to….

Relative 7: (Whispers to Relative 8 while slicing pieces from different turkeys) What are we going to do with all these leftovers?

Relative 8: (Whispers while spooning stuffing onto a plate) Won’t go to waste: whatever the humans don’t eat or bring home, the dogs’ll take care of the rest.  (Nods to the two dogs sitting patiently in a nearby corner)

Relative 7: (Whispers) Sure – it’s their Thanksgiving, too.

Story 612: Is There a Major Holiday in November I’m Forgetting?

 NOVEMBER 5 

(In a café, Parent 1, Parent 2, and Parent 3 sit at a small round table, hastily downing gingerbread lattes)

Parent 1: I’m so proud of myself this year: I finished all my Christmas shopping today, and it’s not even anywhere near December yet!

Parent 2: Ha!  I finished mine before Halloween!

Parent 3: Amateurs: I finished my Christmas and Hanukkah shopping the day after New Year’s.

Parent 1 and Parent 2: Oooooooooohhhhhhhhhh….

Parent 1: So, that’s it?  We have almost two whole months with no extra running around to stores and tracking down sales online, trying to find the last item in stock and freaking out that everything’s late?

Parent 2: I think so!

Parent 3: I don’t know – I feel like we’re missing something.

Parent 1: Something?

Parent 2: Missing?

Parent 3: You know, something major; something between Halloween and Christmas/Hanukkah/Kwanzaa.  Can’t put my finger on it, though.

Parent 1, Parent 2, and Parent 3: Hmmmmm….. (All three take a ponderous sip) 

NOVEMBER 12 

Parent 4: (In a kitchen making cookies while talking to a cell phone lying on the counter; every singer’s Christmas/Winter album plays on the radio in the background) And yes, children are a blessing, don’t get me wrong, but when you reach a certain number of them under the age of 18 within the near-immediate family, you just get to the point where you say, “Everyone’s getting gift cards, I don’t care.”

Parent 5: (Peeking in from the front door and holding up a string of colored lights) You really want all of these covering the house this year?

Parent 4: (Pauses in rolling dough to look at Parent 5) I said ALL OF THEM!

Parent 5: OK, yeesh.  (Goes back outside)

Parent 4: (Back to the phone) As I was saying: “You all can buy your own gifts at this point in my life.”

Parent 6: (Also in a kitchen making cookies while talking to a cell phone lying on the counter) Same.

Parent 4: (Looks to the oven after a timer DINGS!) Oooh, great timing, I just finished the snickerdoodle batter.  (Opens the oven door and swaps cookie sheets)

Parent 6: (Stirring batter endlessly in a large bowl) Yeah, I’m working on shortbread cookies right now.

Parent 4: Nice.

Parent 6: It’s funny, when you’re doing something mindless, you start thinking of the oddest things.

Parent 4: (Scraping cookies onto a cooling rack) Like what?

Parent 6: Well… you ever get the feeling you should be working on something else?

Parent 4: Whaddya mean?  We already multitask 24/7.  (Transfers clothes from a washing machine to a dryer and then starts another batch of cookies)

Parent 6: I know, but I have this nagging thought that I’m overlooking something important, and it has to do with food.

Parent 4: Well, once I finish these I’ve gotta start dinner, and then work on the gift baskets for the school’s Santa Bingo, not to mention when am I gonna start wrapping the kids’ presents, so anything else that may or may not be important is just going to have to wait.

Parent 6: (Stirs even slower while staring out into space) Something about a bird….

Parent 4: If it’s a partridge in a pear tree, count me out – call me Scrooge, but if I never hear that song again it’ll be too soon.

Parent 6: I like that one.

Parent 4: So did I, once upon a time.  You any closer to figuring out what it is you forgot yet?

Parent 6: (Attention drifts to a wall calendar with a picture of a giant cornucopia on the top half) It’ll come to me…. 

NOVEMBER 19 

(At a mall, Parent 7 carefully navigates through the crowds, carrying lots of large bags and surrounded by fake snow, decorated fake trees, ornaments, several menorahs, and “Jingle Bells” on a never-ending loop.  On seeing a “Photos With Santa!” section, with a long line leading to Santa Claus on a throne with helper Elves managing the crowd and a faux reindeer coldly looking on, Parent 7 stops to stare at the controlled chaos for a few moments, blocking out the jolly carol and the tormented cries of unjolly toddlers, brow furrowed in sudden confusion)

Parent 7: (Muttering to self) Wait a minute – isn’t there something else that’s supposed to happen before all this?

Santa Claus: Next in line, please!  Only 36 shopping days until Christmas, ho-ho-ho!

Parent 7: (Still muttering, now looking at the floor) Before Christmas…. Something else before Christmas…. What could it be…?  (Looks up in realization) Of course!  How could I forget Pearl Harbor Day?!  So ungrateful of me.  (Thinks for a moment) Grateful…?  (Thinks for a moment, then shakes head and dives back into the fray) 

NOVEMBER 26 

(In an office, Parent 8 sits at a desk that is smothered in winter wonderland decorations and types an e-mail)

Parent 8: (Reading aloud softly while typing) “ – and if I – have to go in there – one more time – you’re gonna get it – ”  (Stops typing) What am I doing?  This isn’t going to my kids.  (Holds down the backspace key)

Manager: (Approaches the desk) Hey, you busy?

Parent 8: (Swings away from the computer to face Manager) Always, but so are you.

Manager: Heh-heh, yeah.  So, I was reviewing everybody’s time sheets and saw you didn’t put in for the holiday tomorrow yet.

Parent 8: (Slow blinks at Manager) “Holiday”?

Manager: Yeah, you still gotta put it into the system like it’s a requested day off, except you select “Holiday” instead of “PTO”, so I’d appreciate it if you did it in the next five minutes so I can approve it before the end of the day, OK?

Parent 8: (Slow blinks again) “Tomorrow”?

Manager: Yes.  Tomorrow.  (Blank stare from Parent 8) November 27.  (Blank stare) Fourth Thursday of November.  (Blank stare) Thanksgiving?!

Parent 8: …Ohhhhh!  (Slowly nods in realization)

Manager: (Slowly nods along) Yeeessss!

Parent 8: Is that still a thing?

Manager: …Yes, it’s a federal holiday so the company actually pays you not to work.  One thing to be thankful for, right, heh-heh-heh?

Parent 8: Mm.  And it’s still every year?

Manager: Put in the request now, please – bye.  (Leaves)

Parent 8: (Turns back to the computer and opens up the Human Resources portal to enter the request, then pauses to look at a “Countdown to Christmas!” calendar that reads “29” for days remaining) Thanksgiving, eh?  Amazed that one’s still hanging in there.

Story 611: Trying to Avoid Being Late for Work

            (In a department store break room, Friend 1 tiptoes through the door, quietly opens a small locker, and tries to stealthily stash a coat and messenger bag into it, getting louder and louder as everything refuses to fit)

Friend 1: (Muttering) Get – in – you –

Manager: (Peeks head around an inner office doorway) Hey: need to talk to you for a minute.

Friend 1: (Pushes a bulge in as another item falls out) Oh, hey, um, actually, I probably should, you know, get on out there – (Stops to pick up an item) they probably need me, you know, out there – (Stops to pick up another item) you know, now – (Stops to pick up another item)

Manager: That’s what I want to talk to you about.  (Looks down briefly as another item falls onto the floor) Leave that for now.  (Goes back into the office)

Friend 1: (Hopping around stuff while mumbling) Oh-kay, thought we were all “Safety First” here…. (Enters the office and sits in a chair facing Manager) So – what’s up?

Manager: Your tardiness rate.

Friend 1: Oh?

Manager: You clocked in just now 15 minutes late for your shift.

Friend 1: Oh?  I thought it was only 10.

Manager: If it was the first or even the third time I’d let it go, but recently you’ve been steadily increasing your lateness minute-by-minute, so that I’m pretty certain one day you’ll clock in right as your shift is done.

Friend 1: …Well that’d be a neat trick.

Manager: This is your first and last official warning; next time, I’m writing you up.

Friend 1: Ah.  I suppose there’s no way at this point you can pretend you didn’t see me come in 10 –

Manager: Fifteen.

Friend 1: Fifteen minutes late, and we’ll let this be a valuable lesson to me?

Manager: You clocked into the system so it’s in the computer forever now.

Friend 1: Right.  Guess next time I should just “forget” to clock in and ask a manager to do it for me, eh?  (Exaggeratedly winks)

Manager: That is completely unethical, and next time you should come in on time!

Friend 1: Got it.  Would you accept the excuse that there was a lot of traffic?

Manager: No, because I know you live about five minutes away.  In fact, traffic actually was lighter today since it’s a holiday and there was no school!

Friend 1: Rats.  (Thinks for a few moments) And getting written up just means my permanent record’s besmirched, correct?

Manager: Three of them means you’re terminated.

Friend 1: Ohhhh….

Manager: This isn’t news: it was in the employee handbook when you were hired ages ago and it’s brought up at meetings at least once a year!

Friend 1: Yeah, but you never think these things actually apply to you, am-I-right?

Manager: (Sighs) If I cared more, I’d ask if anything was going on that’s making you late more and more, but I don’t so I won’t.

Friend 1: Good, `cause I don’t have an answer except that I’m lazy.

Manager: Clearly.  (Holds out a tablet) All right, sign here that we’ve spoken about this, then go out there and salvage what’s left of your shift.

Friend 1: Wait, I thought I wasn’t getting written up yet?!

Manager: Not officially, but we have to document everything, including verbal warnings.

Friend 1: (Signs the tablet) Typical corporate shenanigans. 

THE FOLLOWING AFTERNOON 

(In the parking lot at Friend 1’s apartment building, Friend 2 pulls into a spot near Friend 1’s car as the latter is leaning against the vehicle)

Friend 2: (Hurriedly gets out of the car and rushes to Friend 1) Hey, what’s going on, are you all right?  You said it was an emergency.

Friend 1: (Pushes off the car and walks to the driver’s side door) You’re here, great: I need you to rear-end my car.  (Opens the door and starts to get into the driver’s seat)

Friend 2: (Pulls Friend 1 out of the car) Whoa-whoa-whoa – what?!

Friend 1: Yeah, I can’t get into too much detail right now, but basically I can’t clock in late for work again so I figured this would be the best excuse to not get written up and I technically wouldn’t be lying.

Friend 2: ….

Friend 1: Sooooo – (Gestures to the two cars) you gonna help me out here or what?

Friend 2: Are you out of your mind?!

Friend 1: Yes, I think we established that some time ago.

Friend 2: I’m not going to ruin my car and deal with insurance and the police for something so inane as you wanting an excuse for being late to work!

Friend 1: It’s not inane, I could lose my job – eventually.

Friend 2: That’s a you problem!  Why don’t you just say you got stuck in traffic, like everyone else?!

Friend 1: They’re onto me with that one.  C’mon, aren’t you proud of me that I’ll be telling the truth on this one, strictly speaking?

Friend 2: No, because it’s my car that’ll suffer, and my insurance and license that’ll be slammed since you’re asking me to hit you!

Friend 1: Oh, don’t worry about that: I’ll take all the blame, say I wasn’t looking when I was backing up or something, and our state’s no-fault so it’ll just be our insurance companies duking it out and it’s all legal and no one’ll get hurt.  It’ll be a win-win-win!

Friend 2: Yeah, and meanwhile my rates’ll go up!

Friend 1: …Maybe I can write them a note?

Friend 2: Forget it!  I won’t even entertain the idea of committing perjury for you!

Friend 1: Oh don’t exaggerate – perjury’s only when you’re under oath, so at most it’ll just be fraud.

Friend 2: Not better!

Friend 1: (Tsks and shakes head) You know, you’re putting me in a real bind here.

Friend 2: I’m doing JACK SQUAT!  You’re the one who put yourself in this mess, and with all the time you’ve taken coming up with this asinine plot and having me drive over here, you could’ve been at work for hours by now!

Friend 1: (Thinks on that, then shakes head again) Nah, I still would’ve been at least 20 minutes late.  Wow, the time really is going up every shift.

Friend 2: What’s gotten into you, anyway?  Why is it suddenly so hard to get into work on time?  You’ve done it for decades with no problem until now.

Friend 1: I don’t know; I think maybe I’m going through my seven-year body change, and lately when I’m getting ready for work I realize that I really really really don’t want to be there.

Friend 2: Then either get a new job or get over it, because I am not staging an accident to enable your bad habits.  And what would’ve been your excuse for next time, hm?

Friend 1: I’m working on it.

Friend 2: I’ll bet.

(Another car suddenly backs into Friend 1’s car)

Neighbor: (Jumping out of the driver’s seat and running over to Friend 1 and Friend 2) Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I didn’t see you parked there, are you OK?!

Friend 1: …You don’t know how happy you’ve made me.

Story 610: Upstairs Drama

            (Outside Sibling 1’s apartment, Sibling 2 arrives carrying bags of snacks and raps briskly on the door)

Sibling 1: (Faintly from inside) Come iiiiiiiiinnnnn…..

Sibling 2: (Opens the door, locks it on closing, and finds Sibling 1 sprawled out on the living room couch) You know, you really shouldn’t leave your door unlocked like that, and you really should’ve checked it was me first – I could’ve been anybody out there.

Sibling 1: (Staring at the ceiling) You’re right, but I doubt it would’ve been anybody else.  (Swings legs off the couch to sit up so Sibling 2 can sit down) You bring the goods?

Sibling 2: Yep.  (Dumps the bags onto the coffee table) Chips, pretzels, leftover Halloween candy – all part of a balanced diet.

Sibling 1: (Leans forward to grab each bag) Cool.  (Starts ripping them open to empty the contents into bowls that are lined up on the table) Drink?  I’ve got `em all.  (Gestures to soda cans also lined up on the table)

Sibling 2: Uh, just water, thanks.

Sibling 1: Boring.  (Pours a glass from a filtered pitcher and hands it to Sibling 2)

Sibling 2: (Downs a few gulps) Aaahhh, that always tastes better than anything else when you really need it.

Sibling 1: If you say so.  (Starts eating the remaining chips out of the bag)

Sibling 2: (Sets the glass on a coaster and stares at the blank TV screen across the room) Sooooo… you want me to turn on the TV or what?

Sibling 1: (Mid-mouthful) What?

Sibling 2: You invited me over here to watch a movie, so here I am, so where’s the movie?

Sibling 1: Oh!  (Swallows the rest) I said come over for the show – but I can understand the confusion.

Sibling 2: Yes, appreciate it, so where’s the show?

Sibling 1: (Points to the ceiling as they both look up) Any minute now…

Sibling 2: ….

Sibling 1: ….

Sibling 2: (Flatly as both look back at each other) You called me over to eavesdrop on your upstairs neighbors.

Sibling 1: It’s not eavesdropping if they broadcast their business for the world to hear.  Used to drive me bonkers, until I started following the storyline – now I can’t get enough of it.  (Starts working on the bowl of chips)

Sibling 2: “Storyline”?

Sibling 1: Oh yeah, it beats anything that’s airing or streaming lately.  From what I’ve put together over the past few weeks, the one living up there now’s actually a tenant who’s apparently been trashing the place, and the landlord lives out-of-state but randomly drops in out of the blue and is furious about the trashed place but never fixes anything that’s broken either, so both of them have been upping the ante of trashing and no-repair so much that I think we’ve hit the Season Finale where it all comes to a climax.

Sibling 2: “Season Finale”?!

Sibling 1: Yeah, right before I called you I was hearing the words “eviction” and “lawsuit” and “extortion” and “vandalism” being volleyed all over the place, and then the landlord stormed out with an “I’ll be back!” and the tenant was stomping around like a herd of elephants and muttering really loudly so I’m waiting for the final showdown any minute now.

Sibling 2: (Looks up at the ceiling) I don’t hear any elephants at the moment.

Sibling 1: Probably taking a nap – I heard snoring through the ceiling when I stopped off in my room earlier.

Sibling 2: Oh.

(Loud footsteps and a round of banging is heard upstairs, followed by)

Landlord: (Voice) I’m comin’ in!

Sibling 1: (Hands Sibling 2 the bowl of pretzels) Ooh, this is it, here we go!  (Leans back on the couch with the bowl of chips to watch the ceiling comfortably)

Sibling 2: (Also leans back, with a sigh) I don’t know how I feel about this –

Sibling 1: Sshh!

(Rattling keys are heard, followed by the door upstairs flying open as loud footsteps race from the back of the apartment to the front)

Tenant: (Voice) I told you to stay out!

Landlord: This is my apartment, chuckles – I can come in whenever I want!

Tenant: Yeah, well, it’s creepy when you let yourself in like that!  And you can’t make me leave, either!  Not until you’ve fixed the broken water heater and got rid of the mold that’s every – FREAKIN’ – where!

Landlord: I don’t have to fix a thing if I don’t feel like it, and if I did fix it, why would you leave afterward?!

Tenant: To prove my point!  And you too have to fix the water heater, it’s the law since, as you always say, it’s your apartment!

Landlord: I don’t have to fix it if you’re the one who broke it!

Tenant: It was broken when I moved in!

Landlord: Balderdash!  And what about all those holes in the walls for your ugly photos?!  I told you no holes in the walls, use the sticky strip hangers!

Tenant: …The holes were here when I moved in!  And what about the mold?!

Landlord: Didn’t have mold until you moved in!  Probably from all those way-too-hot showers I bet you take – I saw the paint peeling off the bathroom ceiling, and I’m not fixing that either!

Tenant: How can I take hot showers if the water heater’s broken?!

Landlord: Because I bet it’s not!

Tenant: You calling me a liar?!

Landlord: Yes!  And a slob!  And a noise polluter!  I can hear your late-night parties from three states away!

Sibling 1: (Softly to Sibling 2) Right about that.

Sibling 2: (Softly to Sibling 1) That stinks.

Tenant: It’s a free country, I can have some friends over for tea if I like!

Landlord: At 2:00 in the morning?!

(Sibling 1 shudders at the memory; Sibling 2 pats Sibling 1 on the shoulder in sympathy)

Tenant: We all work nights!  Blame capitalism!

Landlord: No, I blame you for being a bad neighbor, and for the maybe-broken water heater –

Tenant: <Gasp!>

Landlord: And for the mold –

Tenant: <GASP!>

Landlord: And for the messed-up walls, floors, and ceilings!

Tenant: (On an intake of breath) You wouldn’t dare!

Landlord: I’ve had it, I tell you!  I’m losing money on this place every second you stand here, wrecking everything with your mere presence!  I want you OUT!

Tenant: Can’t evict me, can’t evict me, I pay my rent, you’ve got nothin’ on me, nah-nah-nah-nah-naaah-naaah!

Landlord: All right, that does it!  I’M TAKING THE FRIDGE!

Tenant: …WHAT?!

Landlord: You heard me!  (Sounds of footsteps heading back to the hallway) None of your friends’ll wanna tea-party here if there’s no fresh food or cold drinks for them to gorge on!  I bought the fridge, it’s mine, so you’d better take out whatever you’ve got in there in the next 30 seconds, `cause the whole thing’s going bye-bye!

Tenant: What – you – you can’t do that!  And did you bring that thing here planning this ALL ALONG?!

Landlord: (Sounds of a hand truck being wheeled in) I can do whatever I want with MY PROPERTY!  And whatever food’s still left in there by the time I leave is mine, too!

Tenant: Wait – no – (Sounds of a struggle with the refrigerator) I have a week’s worth of leftovers in there!

Landlord: Well then, there’s no time to waste, AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!

(More sounds of a struggle and then items being tossed to the floor and a table, then of the refrigerator being lifted by the hand truck and wheeled out the door) You can keep the ice packs, since I’m feeling so generous!  (Grunts while shoving the hand truck over the threshold) Think on your sins while I’m gone!  (Sounds of the hand truck wheeling the refrigerator down the hallway)

Tenant: (Shouting out the open door) You monster!  Just for that, I’m gonna take an EXTRA-HOT shower for an hour!

Landlord: HA!  A confession at last!

Tenant: Oooh!  The heater comes and goes!  And you still didn’t get rid of the mold!

Landlord: At this point, the mold’s gonna get rid of you!  (There is a DING! and then sound of the heavy hand truck being pushed into an elevator) And if I throw out my back from all this, I’m sending you the bill!

Tenant: I’ll paper over my ugly photos with it!

Landlord: It’d be an improvement!  (Sounds of the elevator door closing)

Tenant: Why you – !  Oh, can’t hear me anymore.

(Sounds of the apartment door being slammed shut, heavy footsteps back to the bedroom for a minute and then back to the kitchen, a loud moan of annoyance, and items being gathered and dumped into ice chests)

Tenant: (Loudly on a phone) Hey, you busy?... Yeah, you got a spare fridge you can loan me for the next three months, until my lease here is up?... Nah, it can break down after that – then it’ll be the next tenant’s problem, heh-heh-heh!

Sibling 2: (Looks back at Sibling 1) As fascinating as all that was, can we put on a real movie now?

Sibling 1: (Looks back at Sibling 2) Aw, what, you didn’t like it?

Sibling 2: I can’t believe you did!  Having that – (Gestures to the ceiling) going on above me at all hours would drive me up the wall!

Sibling 1: Yeah, but I’ve gotten so invested, I’ve gotta find out how it ends!

Sibling 2: Probably with both a lawsuit and an eviction!

Sibling 1: Oh.  How boringly realistic.

Story 609: The For-Real Haunted House Experience

 AUGUST 31 

(In a spooky office filled with overachieving cobwebs, deranged pumpkins, and decorative screams, Interviewer hovers seated above a desk while flipping through papers as Interviewee glides through the closed door)

Interviewee: Helllooooo!!!  They told me out there to come right in.

Interviewer: Of course, of course – (Gestures towards a broken chair) please, take a seat.

Interviewer and Interviewee: AHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

Interviewee: Good one!

Interviewer: Yeah, I’ve still got it.  Seriously: float anywhere you like, we’re not fancy here.

Interviewee: Thanks; I usually prefer the ceiling, but for something like this I’ll bob up-and-down at approximate eye-level.

Interviewer: Appreciate it.  (Briefly scans through the papers again as both bob gently in place) So!  What brings you to our humble Halloween attraction this year?

Interviewee: Well, lately I’ve been searching for a new venue to add to my portfolio, and when I heard about The For-Real Haunted House Experience that actually was for-real haunted, I thought to myself, that’s perfect for my skillset!

Interviewer: (Examining the papers closer) Um-hm, yes, your résumé is most impressive.  Mansion attics for the bored well-to-do; high-volume parking garages; elevators in the largest hotels in every major city both nationally and internationally; and the highlight: big-city funeral homes for the last 30 years.

Interviewee: (Pats hair modestly) Yes, that one’s a personal favorite: so few of us explore the untapped market of mortuaries; I think there’s a feeling that the living inhabitants there are desensitized to our presence, but that makes the impact all the more satisfying.

Interviewer: Indeed.  Tried it myself once, but had to give up since success in haunting those who daily deal with the after-life was so… elusive.

Interviewee: It is a challenge, no doubt; but an extremely rewarding one, I find.

Interviewer: (Shuffles the papers to redirect the conversation) True, true – so!  Now you want to “try your hand” at a Halloween haunted house where the living actually pay to have the bejesus scared out of them, eh?

Interviewee: Exactly.

Interviewer: I have to warn you, though: it’s probably not as glamorous as the -------- downtown parking garage or the ------- hotels’ elevators you’re used to.  Lots of waiting around, and it can get a little repetitive; plus, the occasional show-off guest can be extremely unpleasant.

Interviewee: That’s fine; I can use the change of pace.

Interviewer: And you would need to commit for the full season.  No disappearing off to another realm after a week if you find the situation here lacking – (Ominously) `cause we will find you.

Interviewee: Oh, no worries about that.  I’ll be there the whole month-and-a-half, even if I do get bored.

Interviewer: (Skeptical) Um-hm.

Interviewee: OK, full disclosure?

Interviewer: Please.

Interviewee: I’ve been in a co-haunting situation for the past decade – (Briefly looks off to the side) or is it century? – either way, our styles are just too incompatible: I prefer thrills and chills, the other one prefers blood and gore, and it’s just not working anymore.  The house literally isn’t big enough for the both of us, especially now that our current tenants keep using spells and accessories to summon us for kicks.  It’s been a nightmare, I tell you.

Interviewer: (Shakes head in disgust) My condolences.  I don’t know which of the parties are the worse in those situations: the troublemaking ghost or the troublemaking living.

Interviewee: I know, right?  So, I figured, do this for a month or so, then see where the spirit world takes me after that.

Interviewer: (Lets the papers float away) Well, I have to say, most of our team members have stories similar to yours, so no shame in coming here for a temporary change before moving on to something else.  At any rate, you’re in, if you still want the position.

Interviewee: (Fist pumps) Yes!  Thank you so much – I just know it’ll be out of this world!

Interviewer: Definitely!  Report back here at 5 p.m. on September 13 for some basic training – the ghouls will show you around the Demon Barn, the Possessed Corn Maze, the Wretched Forest, and the titular haunted house this year, the Condemned Mansion.  Everyone rotates their stations to keep things, if you pardon the term, lively.

Interviewee: Sounds great!  I’ve always wanted to haunt a corn field – those giant, whispering stalks are downright creepy.

Interviewer: Glad to hear it.  (Sees a clipboard with a pen attached, floating by)  Oh!  Almost forgot.  (Grabs the clipboard and pen) Do you prefer to be “Evil Clown”, “Evil Sorcerer”, “Evil Farmer”, and/or “Evil Doll”?

Interviewee: Oh.  I thought we were going as ourselves here?  Since it’s a real haunted attraction?

Interviewer: Yes, we tried that the first year and it went over like a lead balloon; the guests were decidedly not scared by us in our regular guises, even when a few of us tried ripping our faces off to kick things up a notch.  The living all say they want authenticity, but when push comes to shove they literally scream for the evil clowns and dolls, go figure.

Interviewee: OK… I guess… “Evil Sorcerer”?  At least to start.

Interviewer: (Enters some notes in the clipboard) Good, we’re a bit short on those this year.  (Looks up at Interviewee) One more thing: a few years ago we started a Living Work Program here – give back to the community and all that – so you’ll see a few of them working behind-the-scenes only, and they’re absolutely indispensable with setting up everything now and then taking it all down after Halloween.  Are you comfortable with that?

Interviewee: Of course!  I love the living!

Interviewer: Don’t we all!  (They both laugh) I mean, they are practically family.

Interviewee: Do they know, then?

Interviewer: Know what?

Interviewee: That the actors are actual ghosts?

Interviewer: The open-minded ones do – the rest are just grateful they’re not working at the job they had before this one.

Interviewee: I’ll bet. 

OCTOBER 31 

(At the Condemned Mansion, Interviewee-now-Evil Sorcerer Employee floats around a dark attic full of sinister furniture as screams and bangs resound throughout the house)

Evil Sorcerer Employee: (Doing a backstroke across the ceiling around a flickering chandelier) Ah, I’ll miss this place when it’s all over.

Evil Clown Employee: (Floats up through the attic door and stairs and looks up at the ceiling) Hey, how you holding up here?

Evil Sorcerer Employee: (Floats down to hover near the floor) Not bad, thanks, but still not too many visitors up here.  I think the bottleneck in the Morbid Master Bedroom is confusing most of them so they forget to come up here and run back downstairs instead.  It’s a shame, really – missing out on a whole room, and those tickets aren’t cheap.

Evil Clown Employee: Yeah, that’s rough.  I keep trying to send them up this way, but most of them are “Nope!  Exit!” at that point.  Their loss.

Evil Sorcerer Employee: Yeah.  (The attic door opens and footsteps and scared voices are heard on the steps) Ooh, got some live ones!

Evil Clown Employee: Have fun!  I’ll come back later!  (Floats down through the floor)

(A group of teenagers and adults all hold onto each other as they slowly ascend the steps)

Guest 1: Is there gonna be another demon doll?!  I don’t think I can take it!

Guest 2: (Looking around frantically) Oh no, it’s a haunted yard sale up here!

Evil Sorcerer Employee: (Floats over to the group as they all enter the attic) Good evening, mortal travelers!  Welcome to my lair of sorcery!  Who will be the next sacrifice to the Blood Moon on this All Hallows’ Eve?  MWAHAHAHAHAHA!

Guests: AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!  (Still all holding each other, they stumble as one back down the stairs and rush out the door, which slams behind them)

Evil Sorcerer Employee: Rats, I didn’t even get to fake a spell this time.  I might be overselling this.

Evil Clown Employee: (Head peaks up through the floor) That was fast – a blur went past me in the hallway so fast that I didn’t even get a chance to chill their bones or shiver their spines or anything!

Evil Sorcerer Employee: Yeah, I think I have to tone it down a bit – they should get at least a full minute up here, what with all the time and effort that went into these decorations.  (Gestures to a large table piled up with last-century books, brass candlesticks, and an ornate crystal skull) I mean, have you seen these knickknacks?  I think some of them may be actual antiques!

(The attic door opens and footsteps come up the stairs again; screams, crashes, and intentionally short-circuiting wires are heard in the background)

Living Employee: (Dressed all in black; to Evil Sorcerer Employee) Hey, I have dinner break now – you need anything, or you just want me to leave the door open while I’m gone?

Evil Sorcerer Employee: (Starts floating around the ceiling again) I’m fine, and you can leave the door open – it’s not exactly a prime destination spot.

Living Employee: All right, I’ll be back in half an hour.  (Starts to leave, then turns back) By the way, how come none of you actors here ever need a break?

Evil Sorcerer Employee: (Pauses in floating) …Because we’re having so much fun!

Living Employee: Oh.  OK.  Sorry in advance if you get any rowdy guests while I’m gone – I shine the strobe lights a lot at those to keep them moving along.

Evil Sorcerer Employee: Thanks, you’re the best!

Living Employee: Yeah, well, I don’t want to deal with them, either.  (Goes back downstairs)

Evil Clown Employee: Aw, the living can be so sweet sometimes.

Evil Sorcerer Employee: (Back to floating around the ceiling) Bless their literal hearts.

Evil Clown Employee: (Floats up through the floor fully) So, what’s the next step for you after Halloween tonight?

Evil Sorcerer Employee: (Back to the backstroke) Well, there’s an elevator with my name on it two cities over, and I really want to start exploring the potential of new construction luxury rentals.  You?

Evil Clown Employee: Christmas Villages.

Evil Sorcerer Employee: (Pauses) Really?

Evil Clown Employee: I track down which guests are the real brats, and as they wait on line for photos with Santa, I appear to them as Krampus.

Evil Sorcerer Employee: Sounds like a perfect way to keep the spirit of Halloween going through to January.