Postcard Stories: Santarchy Day

Word Limit: 300 Words (272 words used)
Three Words: Santarcy, (not sure what second two words were)
Originally Posted: December 2008,

‘Twas the night of Santa’s and we were ducking out of site
Running from red suits with all of our might
Hundred’s of them chasing us to our stumbling dismay
This is our story of Santarcy Day.

Poorly dressed, drunken with cheer
Their howling, hungry hounds dressed as reindeer
With their slobbering and belching, we ran in a fright
More than we bargained for, this Christmas Eve night.

It started out a friendly pint between friends
But early on we realized that we just didn’t blend
The spirits kept coming we ignored all the freaks
In their amity suits and permanent red cheeks.

The night carried on until arrived such a clatter
We choked on our drinks, it made quite a splatter
A bus load of beauties arrived dressed up as Elves
Our jaws dropped to the table, we couldn’t help ourselves.

One thing lead to another, we were into our groove
The spirits were flowing, and our courage had improved
Had we thought it through we might have realized
Those pointy eared filly’s were all Santa’s wives.

We chatted them up, we made our move
When suddenly we realized, the Santa’s didn’t approve
“What’s your problem, fat man?” I said without thinking
I wasn’t always the smartest, when I was out drinking.

“Can I sit on your lap, and read you my list?”

“How about you stand, and I’ll show you my fist.”

On that note we arose with a smash
Our pints spilling on the floor with a splash
As we dove ‘round the corner we looked back and waved
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good shave.”

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