In late October, I encountered a strange short story writing contest. The company, Weird Christmas, wanted weird Christmas stories. There were three categories. The first, Stocking Stuffers, was any weird Christmas story. The second, Weird Christmas Specials, was about taking a well-known Christmas story and messing it up a little. The final one, Weird Cards, involved finding one of the guy’s old cards that he’s posted on social media, linking to it, and then writing a story based on it.
All entries had to be under 350 words each. One great thing about it, though, was that there were unlimited entries. This meant that I could enter as many times as I wanted. Maybe, this wasn’t good news. It meant that I kept trying rather than just putting together my best work and going with that.
I ended up entering three times, none of which won. Kevin’s Not Here, and Nobody Cares was inspired by Home Alone II. Life’s Wonderful Without You is from It’s a Wonderful Life. Then Reindeer on Strike came from a picture posted on the guy’s Facebook page. Here’s the link.
Kevin’s Not Here, and Nobody Cares
“Seriously? You have got to be kidding me,” Kate complained.
“Nope, somehow we lost him,” her husband, Peter, said.
“He was literally right with you at the airport. How could we lose him? Well, he ruined Christmas for us last year. He’s not doing it again this year. Let’s just head to the hotel. He can fend for himself,” Kate said.
“I agree,” Peter said.
“Me too,” Buzz added.
Everyone in the family grabbed their own bags and headed toward the shuttle that would take them to their hotel for the night.
“He does have my bag with my wallet in it,” Peter said as the shuttle took off.
“Let’s cancel the credit cards. We don’t want that brat having fun with our money. This will teach him a lesson,” Kate said, pulling out her phone and quickly calling the credit card companies.
Meanwhile, in New York City, Kevin was feeling a bit scared. As the final person got off the plane, he wondered what had gone wrong. Kevin looked out the window and saw snow. There shouldn’t be snow in Miami.
He’d survived last year when his family left him behind. He could do it again. He’d just have to be resourceful. Kevin followed the crowd of people leaving the airport, flagging down a taxi.
“Cash or credit,” the driver asked him.
Kevin dug through the bag, pulling out one of his dad’s credit cards and holding it up. The taxi driver grabbed the card from Kevin and swiped it.
“Declined.”
Kevin held up another card. The taxi driver grabbed it and swiped it as well.
“Declined.”
Kevin held up a third card.
“Declined.”
Scared, Kevin reached for the door. It was locked.
“I don’t deal with stolen goods,” the driver said, rolling down his own window and waving to a man in a uniform. “Officer, we’ve got a thief on our hands.”
Kevin noticed the man’s face and gasped.
“Oh, it’s my good buddy. I’ll take care of him,” said “Officer” Harry, pulling out his handcuffs and a gun.
Life’s Wonderful Without You
“You’re sure you want to see this?”
“Yes, I wish I’d never been born.”
“Wish granted.”
Poof!
“Is that my mom?”
Bailey Georgeson ran over to see the lady in question. The lady was whistling and looked incredibly happy, happier than Bailey had ever seen her mom look.
“Mom!”
“Who are you? Go away!”
“Don’t you recognize your own daughter? It must be the hat,” Bailey said, pulling the hat off her head.
“I don’t have a daughter. I only had one child, and she fell through the ice, drowning when she was a little kid. Thank goodness for that. I never wanted to be a parent. I’ve felt so free since that kid fell through the ice.”
The woman Bailey knew as her mom started to dance a jig, looking far nimbler than Bailey had ever seen her mom look.
“What about Mr. Champagne? What happened if I didn’t stop him from accidentally poisoning the kid?” Bailey asked.
“He’s just over there,” the angel replied.
Bailey looked toward where the angel was pointing. Mr. Champagne pulled a huge rifle out of his car, aimed it, and shot.
“Mr. Champagne?” Bailey gasped.
“Who’s asking?” the man asked, aiming his rifle at Bailey.
“Calm down. She doesn’t know any better,” the angel said, and Mr. Champagne turned the gun away from Bailey before getting in his car and driving away.
“After the incident with the kid, Mr. Champagne became a highly sought-after hitman,” the angel explained. “He makes several hundred thousand dollars per hit.”
“Who’s that?” Bailey asked, pointing to a man in a Santa costume who was handing out presents to kids.
“That is Mr. Porter.”
“Mr. Porter?”
“Yes, after your dad’s business went under, Mr. Porter decided it wasn’t fun anymore to try to destroy people. He realized it was about the competition. Now, he’s been voted the Nicest Guy in Town for the last ten years. People love him.”
“I want to go back. I want to be alive again,” Bailey whined.
“Really?” the angel asked.
“Yes, I can’t have them enjoying life too much.”
Reindeer on Strike
“The reindeer are on strike.”
“All of them?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“They seem to think they’re working under unfair working conditions. While you get all the cookies and milk, they have to share the occasional carrot between the nine of them. They even think you sometimes sneak a few of their carrots.”
Santa had to admit they were right. He did occasionally eat one or two… okay maybe a dozen or more, of their carrots.
“They also feel like they do the bulk of the work, having to fly around the world in one night. You get to slide down the chimney like you’re on an amusement park ride, and you warm yourself by the fire while they freeze on the rooftops. Even when you’re outside, you get a nice warm coat, and they don’t even get goggles to protect their eyes.”
Santa felt like they were complaining a bit too much. Sliding down the chimney wasn’t like an amusement park ride. There were a number of times he’d slid right into someone’s burning fire, and he was always covered in soot.
“Not to worry, though, Frank said he’d help out this year.”
“Frank?”
The head elf pointed to a creature standing outside the workshop window. He had long brown fur, an angry face, and walked on four legs.
“What is he?”
“We’re not completely sure. Rumor has it, he’s half grizzly bear, a quarter wolverine, and a quarter Bigfoot.”
“And he’s going to pull my sleigh by himself?”
“Yeah, uh, about that… it turns out your sleigh is kind of broken. Don’t worry, though, we found a really great ecofriendly alternative option. It will work fine.”
“I’m trusting you on that one. Is there anything else I should know?”
“Nothing too serious.”
“What else?”
“You have gained a little weight since last year, so your seamstress designed you a new suit, and your bag is a little old, so you’ve got a new one. Don’t worry. You’ll love them.”
They Weren’t Weird Enough
I think one of the biggest reasons that none of the stories were picked was that they weren’t weird enough. Honestly, they really aren’t as original as they probably should be. I think weird to the judges meant a bit of swearing or semi-graphic violence. Still, it was a fun experience. I’ve never written a weird Christmas story before.
