XVII.

Santa watched the dancing sugarplums fart and burp strands of yellow ectoplasm.

He couldn’t remember how long he had been locked in the bitch-box but it felt like months. The sugarplums splattered him with more goo, filling his nostrils, his ears, and the corners of his eyes. His mouth was already stuffed with her musty pantyhose that smelled like vinegar.

The ceiling above him was covered in those goddamn sugarplums.

I’d give anything for someone to poke out my eyes. I can’t stand looking at those bastards anymore.

A small sugarplum hung from the ceiling on a bright blue spider web. It burped and oozed on Santa’s beard. His chin started to tingle and then he heard the clip-clop.

Clip-clop.

Clip-clop.

Kay was coming.

CLIP-clop.

CLIP-CLOP.

“Santa oh Santa!” Kay said, her voice coming from the doorway. She walked slowly up to the box, the clip- clopping getting soft and more sinister. “I have a surprise for you.”

Her face appeared above him, blocking out the sugarplums. Santa was again in awe of her beauty despite it being torture just to look at her. She pulled the pantyhose out of his mouth and drooled down his throat.

Santa had no choice but to swallow but there were still remnants in his mouth. He said, “Out.”

“What’s that? I can barely hear you with all that. mess in your mouth. You say you want out, honey bunch? That’s so cute.” She leaned forward, drooled onto his lips, and then stuck her fingers into his mouth. “Here, let me wash your mouth out.”

Santa sat petrified. More spit. More fingers digging around in his mouth, scrubbing his tongue and teeth with Kay’s drool.

“Clean, clean, clean. Squeaky, squeaky clean,” she said, making Santa gag with her spit-fingers. “Okay, I think that’s enough.”

Kay pulled her hand out of his mouth and let Santa gasp for air.

“I’ll be right back, honey bunch.”

Santa watched her head move away, giving him full view of the sugarplums. They seemed to have multiplied. Dozens of them were circling him, farting their ectoplasm into the air. Star and circle shapes formed out of the goo until they coalesced into a giant wheel that started to turn.

A wheel? Can I make a unicycle out of it? A unicycle made out of sugarplum shit. That’s a good one. It’ll be next year’s hottest toy.

A smaller wheel appeared in the middle of the big one. Each one turned in the opposite direction, creating a wind that blew the sugarplums across the room and away from Santa much to his delight.

Thank you, sugarplum-shit unicycle. Thank you.