By Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer
I work in parcel delivery, so Christmas is a busy time. About fifteen years ago I had a stinking cold, and my nose was red raw from it. For some reason my boss thought this was great and told me ‘Rudolph, with you nose so bright, won’t you guide my sleigh tonight?”
To be honest, I was taken aback. Up until then I’d been a lower level reindeer, filling in for Blitzen and Prancer when they were on leave. I never expected the opportunity. And it made me. I became Reindeer royalty.
The next year he comes and asks me again. Problem was, I’d no cold and my nose was back to normal. “No problem,” says he and tosses me a naggin of whiskey. “Just drink this.”
Every year since then I’ve led the sleigh, knocking back more and more whiskey to get the nose just the right shade of rosy red. I should stop, but I’ve too much to lose. I’m a fucking legend – they even have songs about me on the radio.
Half the time I’ve no clue where I am. I’ve lost count of the number of crashes, the number of parcels lost, innocent children mown down. Sometimes I come to my senses and my boss just tosses me another naggin. The fat prick.
The others mock me now. They’re all jealous. This year I’ll fix them though. I’ve slipped acid tabs into their nosebags.
Merry Fucking Christmas.