Christmas Grit - Fucking Santa by Dana C. Kabel.

Metzler sat on the shrink’s couch and tried to shut the Christmas music out of his head.

“Something troubling you?”  Dr. Burns asked.

“Can’t get this damned song out of my head.”

“What song do you hear?”

“Feliz Navidad,”

“Hmmm,” the doctor stuck his head outside the door.

“Debbie, could you turn off the music in the reception area?”

Metzler sat up.

“That was coming from out there?”

“I’m sorry it bothered you.  I honestly didn’t even hear it in here until you said something.”

Metzler stared at the doctor.

“Please…it’s gone now.  Let’s move on.”

Metzler settled back into his chair.

“I fucking hate Christmas,” he said. 

“You really opened up when you told me about the Santa Claus incident in our last session.  Let’s explore that further.”

Metzler kept that skeleton in his closet for a long time.

When he was nine years old he had discovered himself sexually and became a chronic masturbator after finding a wrinkled skin mag under his older brother’s bed.

After a while he grew bored with his hand and had the strong desire to pleasure himself hands free.  Metzler experimented with rubbing against different household objects; the washing machine while it was operating, the corner of his bed, the living room sofa…but nothing seemed to be the right size or shape.

Then one day he was exploring the attic and found the life-sized Santa Claus that his parents put in the foyer every year. Most of Santa’s body was made of hard plastic.  But his belly was stuffed with soft rags.

Metzler cut a hole in the belly and laid his wrinkled Penthouse over Santa’s head.  He pulled his pants down and proceeded to have his way with the effigy.  Just as he was getting ready to come down the chimney he had carved in Santa’s belly, a floor board creaked and he turned his head to see his brother and a friend standing there with a video camera.

The torture and humiliation were unending.  His brother, Josh held the tape for blackmail.  But Josh’s friend made the incident public knowledge at school.

Then Josh started showing the tape at parties for amusement at Metzler’s expense.  The boy found himself relentlessly tortured with ridicule.  Especially around Christmas.

After three years of hell, he was begging his parents to ship him off to military school to escape his reputation for buggering Santa’s belly.

As the years passed, he was able to put the incident behind.  He grew up and apart from his family and never went back to the old hometown.

Metzler retired from the military and took an engineering job and married a nice Jewish girl who barely celebrated Chanukah let alone Christmas.  Unfortunately, she could only put in four and a half years with Metzler and he recently found himself alone at the holidays with no family and not a clue what to do with himself.

Then he started noticing Santa for the first time in years.  Of course he had been aware of Santa’s presence whenever he saw him ringing a bell over a red kettle, or in a department store inviting children on his lap to tell him what they wanted for Christmas. 

But those Santas had always seemed to blend into the background.  Now he noticed them everywhere he turned; and he was having awful, violent thoughts about them.

The shrink’s idea for therapy was direct.

“I know a guy who plays Santa at the mall.  He gets done at nine tonight.  Go talk to him.  There’s a sports bar next door to the mall where he goes to unwind afterwards.  Have a few drinks together.  Talk football.  Once you put a human face on Santa, I think it might dispel some of this hostility you are feeling.”

Metzler was apprehensive, but he took the doctor’s advice and met the mall Santa named Gary.  They sat at the bar and talked over burgers and beer.

Gary was a carpenter by day playing Santa to earn a few extra bucks.  He was a pretty decent guy and Metzler began to enjoy his company.

Then the conversation turned to Metzler’s background.  When he mentioned where he came from, Gary said he grew up in the same town.

“You would have only been a couple of years ahead of me in school,” Gary said.  “Strange I don’t remember you.”

“I went off to military school.”

Gary chuckled.  “That’s funny…I just remembered this story I heard about a kid that went off to military school…”

Metzler dropped his beer and the bottle shattered.  He stood up from his bar stool and dropped a twenty on the bar.

“Excuse me.  I have to go now.”

The shrink was at home with his trophy wife.  She was wearing her sexy Mrs. Claus outfit with red garters and he was enjoying the view every time she bent over to pick up another ornament to place on the tree.

He sipped his brandy and jingled the little bell in his Santa hat.

“Come on, Nora.  Sit on Santa’s lap and tell him what you want.”

Nora giggled and cupped her hands under the breasts that he had bought her last Christmas.

“You are so naughty, Richard.  I think you might get some coal in your stocking.”

“I know what I’m going to shove into your stockings,” he said.

The doorbell rang.

“Expecting someone?”  Nora pouted.

“No.  It’s probably those Harrison kids again, trying to sell those shitty chocolates for their school.  They came last night and I hid in my study until they went away.”

“Ugh!  Well, both of our cars are outside now.  You get rid of them and I’ll be upstairs waiting.”

The shrink went to the door and was appalled to see his patient there.    

“Mr. Metzler, it is highly unorthodox and invasive for you to…”

Metzler pushed the shrink inside with such force that he toppled backward and landed on his ass and the Santa hat fell off his head with a tinkle.

“Pick the hat up,” Metzler said.

The shrink started to protest, but Metzler kicked him in the balls.

“Put it on!”  He ordered.

Gasping, the shrink picked the hat up and put it back on his head.

Metzler flicked open a folding knife and the lights from the Christmas tree gleamed off its blade.

“I think I know a better way to get over my problems.”

The shrink tried to crab crawl away, but the madman pounced on him.   A sharp pain burned in his stomach as the blade entered.  Metzler covered his mouth to muffle the screams.

“Merry Christmas, Santa.”  He used one hand to pry open the bloody hole in the shrink’s stomach while he unzipped his pants with the other.

Dana C. Kabel’s stories have appeared in A Twist of Noir, The Flash Fiction Offensive, Muzzleflash, Mysterical-E, Out of the Gutter, Powder Flash Burn, and Yellow Mama. Dana blogs at www.thenonstopbullet.blogspot.com where you can catch up on THE THUG OF THE DAY.