Jingle Me Balls by Robyn Peterman

Author:Robyn Peterman [Peterman, Robyn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Robyn Peterman

7

Dear Santa, I’ve been a very good boy…

“Shut your pieholes, gentlemen and Pirate Doug. I have incredibly insane news. Everyone must keep it on the down low. I don’t want this getting out to too many people. It could adversely affect us,” I said, glancing around to make sure we were alone.

The moon sat high and majestic in the sky and the stars twinkled, casting a shimmering glow on the ocean. The only sounds to be heard were the waves lapping at the shore… and the bitching of my men.

“Is the island going to be attacked?” Rick asked with concern as his tired eyes popped open in alarm.

“Nay, nay, nay,” I said with a chuckle. “It has come to my attention that there may indeed be a Santa Claus. I just need to know if all of you have been good boys or bad boys this year. Apparently, Santa keeps some kind of bullshite list.”

“Doesn’t stealing electrical appliances put all of us on the bad boy list?” Keith asked.

“Absolutely not,” I huffed, hoping like hell that wasn’t true. “Those vicious human women in obscenely tight, stretchy breeches tried to kill us. We did what was necessary to get the fucking self-cleaning crockpots and live through it. Besides, we weren’t pilfering for ourselves. We were illegally procuring items for others so it doesn’t count.”

“You also stole the Johnson and knocker Christmas sweaters,” Pirate Doug pointed out.

“Had to,” I said. “The store was closed.”

“Sounds reasonable to me,” my dolt of a son replied.

“Wait. You woke all of us up in the middle of the damned night and dragged us bodily onto the beach to tell us you believe in Santa Claus?” Cupid growled as he flopped down on a beach lounge and put a towel over his face.

“Where did you find the proof?” Keith asked with a huge yawn.

Of course, it was three in the morning and I had yanked my men from their slumber with their mates. However, I was sure there would be far more excitement about the wonderful news than I was observing.

“The almighty interwebs,” I explained. “I even have an address!”

“Shall we TP Santa’s yard?” Pirate Doug inquired. “I keep a fair amount of arse paper on the ship for cases like this.”

“No, you idiot,” I snapped. “We’re going to send him a letter.”

“Are you drunk?” Pirate Doug inquired, squinting at me.

“Don’t ask ridiculous questions,” I told him. Of course I am.”

“And why are we going to send Santa a letter, Pappy?” Del asked, shoving Cupid off the lounge and taking it for himself.

“To get more presents,” I said.

“Umm… call me crazy, but… ” Rick began.

“Crazy Butt,” I replied.

“Not what I meant,” Rick said.

“But you asked me to call you Crazy Butt,” I told him, confused.

“Nope. I didn’t,” Rick said with an eye roll.

“You did,” I shot back with a bigger eye roll.

“Nope.”

“Yep,” I said.

“This could take all night and I really want to sleep in a bed with Misty,” Cupid griped. “Let Rick get a damned sentence out, old man.

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