Friday, December 26, 2014

A Christmas Story

  The Van Man woke up in a sweat. The nightmare had terrified him. He was relieved that it had all been a dream and he was in bed. Van Man looked over at the little Swiss number next to him. She was naked and curled up in sheets. It was her bed. Van Man was extremely grateful for the good night's sleep in the soft bed. A luxury that served him well before he was to leave for the Christmas Holidays. A seven o'clock flight to Kansas City. He looked at his phone. It was five-thirty and he would have to rush.
  Van Man blitzed into the shower and out. His clothes were crumpled on the floor along with the Swiss Number's. He found his and threw them on. She was still passed out. He remembered how grateful she had been the night before. Merry Christmas, everyone was grateful. Into the van he went. It would not start. The battery, thought Van Man. He popped the hood and connected the battery. The van soon roared to life. Van Man stepped on the gas and drove to the airport.
  He arrived. Van Man parked in Long Term and jogged to the terminal. He had only one bag so there had been no need to check luggage. Lucky him. Van Man stripped his shoes, belt and pocket contents into the white tubs. He noticed a father and daughter staring at his tub of pocket contents in disgust. They stared at him. Van Man quickly realized that he had a strip of Extra Ribbed French Ticklers in his tub. He had forgotten to pack them.
  Van Man made it through security and gathered his belongings. He stuffed the Ribbed Ticklers into jacket pockets. He rushed off to the gate. Passengers had already begun to load onto the plane. He made it at the tail end. Van Man breathed a sigh of relief.
  The flight was completely full. Van Man had no assigned seat. He had to take whatever seat was available. That seat was located between two very large men. They were both very serious looking. And they both stared at him as he squeezed into the very tight space between them. The flight time was three and a half hours. Merry Christmas.
  It was well into the flight and the Two Large Men slept soundly. Van Man noticed a child peek at him from the seat in front. She was blonde and popped up and down playfully. Van Man thought the Little Blonde Child was cute. He smiled. The Blonde Child froze and stared at him. She smiled. He thought it seemed more of a leer. "Soon.", Blonde Child whispered and popped back down. Van Man was glad that she was finished with her game. He closed his eyes and drifted off.
  Van Man awoke. The Two Large Men were gone. In their place were two children. The Blonde Child from the seat in front and a Ginger Boy. The Two Children seemed the same age to Van Man. They stared at him with insane eyes. They chuckled and looked at each other. Van Man was confused. "Are you two supposed to be in these seats?", he asked. The children stared at him and smiled. The Blonde Child whispered across to the Ginger. "What are you saying?", Van Man asked impolitely. "Soon.", the Blonde Child replied. Van Man then felt something nudge the seat. He tried to turn to see. The seatbelt constrained him. Someone kicked and kicked the seat from behind him. Van Man attempted to unbuckle the seatbelt, but the Children began to pinch his hands. "Ow, stop!" Van Man tried to push them back, but they retaliated and bit into his hands. He yelped. To his surprise, no on the plane looked. The Children chomped down hard into his hands. Blood flowed out of the wounds and mixed with their saliva. Van Man yelled. No one looked. The pain rushed through his body. He felt a presence above him and looked up. A Brunette Child with a straight razor stared down at him with insane eyes. She plunged the razor into his right eye. It made a popping sound as the eyeball splattered juice all over. Van Man screamed. No one looked. The Brunette Child yanked his hair back and pressed the blade to his throat. "Now!", the Blonde Girl screamed. The Brunette Girl sliced through Van Man's throat. He gurgled and blood squirted out. The Van Man's body twitched. The Children held his arms down. He bled and gurgled. Then his body went limp and slumped in the seat. And no one looked.
  The intercom clicked on. "Hi, this is your Captain speaking. We are making our final descent into Kansas City. Skies are blue and the current temperature is fifty-two degrees. We'd like to wish all of our travelers a wonderful holiday. Stay safe and, as always, thank you for flying with us."

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