DP Tool Club 19/CD_ASCQ_19_010295.iso/vrac/rubyv39.zip/RUB39-10

Text File | 1994-11-24 | 5KB | 103 lines

Copyright 1994(c)

                 'TWAS THE NIGHT BEFORE ELECTION

     Ruby busily wrapped presents as the chirping bird on the
Christmas tree slowly drove the customers away from Ruby's Pearls
Truck Stop.
     David Freeman stomped from the kitchen carrying a bowl of
ambrosia. He grabbed the chirping bird ornament with one hand and
poured orange, grapefruit, cherry and coconut chunks into it with
the other.
     "Chirp, chir... glug...znnk," said the ornament, and then fell
silent.
     "Wha'dja do that for?" asked Ruby.
     "That's the most annoying thing you've ever done," said David.
"Almost. I told you to unplug it, but did you listen? All week I've
heard 'chirp, chirp, chirp.' Enough is enough. Man cannot live by
dread alone," he said, taking the depleted bowl of ambrosia back
to the kitchen with him.
     "Rats," said Ruby. "Now how'm I gonna stay awake to finish
this wrapping?" She thought a bit and snapped her fingers. She
carefully cut segments from the scotch tape roll and affixed them
to her chin. That oughta do it, she thought, as David turned off
the lights and left for home, leaving her to her solitary wrapping.
     The night wore on and the silence began to lull Ruby to sleep.
Her head toppled forward, nose resting in the O.J. wrapping paper
and she began to snore slightly.
                               ***
     "Ho, Ho," said a hearty voice.
     "Huh? Whazzat?" asked Ruby, coming awake.
     As her vision cleared, Ruby focused on the grinning visage of
a portly gentleman in a red and white outfit, holding a chart.
     "Democrats, who often commit suicide and who like to watch
porno movies, also get the majority of switches from Santa each
year," said the figure. "Look at this clip."
     "Lumbug? Is that chou?" asked Ruby, the scotch tape on her
chin quivering with each word.
     "Rush in the flesh," said the figure. "Who's doing wardrobe
on this dog?" he asked, looking down at his black boots and furred
midriff and cuffs.
     "I don't know nothin," said Ruby.
     "So I've heard," said Rush. "That's why I'm here, madam. I
shall educate you properly. You'll have no further problems with
political correctness when I'm through," he bragged. "Ho, Ho!"
     "Politics, my happy frotz," said Ruby. "What's in the bag?"
She pointed to the sack at Rush's feet.
     "Damn if I know," Rush confessed. "Yesterday I was hosting a
national television show and today I'm dressed in bunny fur,
dragging a lumpy bag around. Show business is treacherous."
     "Yeh, well, things is tough all over," said Ruby. "You think
this scotch tape on my chin's the lastest fashion statement, or
what? Open the bag."
     "Can't. It won't open," said Rush, tugging at the drawstring.
     "Lemme try," said Ruby. She tugged. She pulled. She jabbed
with the scissors. Nothing.
     "Maybe if you go back to sleep," said Rush.
     "Two heads is better'n one," Ruby argued.
     "Unless they're on the end of a snake," said Rush, looking at
her with distaste. "Come on, will you? I'm on the air in ten
minutes and this script sucks, anyway."
     "Everybody's a critic," said Ruby. "All the good Christmas
parodies has been done, you know."
     "You should have gone for a Charlie Brown take-off," he
opined. "The Great Turkey would be an appropriate title for this
one. Ho, Ho!"
     "Yer one 'Ho' short of this role, ain'chou?" Ruby asked.
     "Just go back to sleep," Rush ordered, and began to drone on,
repeating statistics about how Democrats were lazy, slovenly, had
B.O., bad breath, and don't listen when E.F. Hutton speaks.
     The monologue put Ruby into a comatose state, a not uncommon
reaction to Rush's monologues.
                               ***
     "Merry Christmas!" David Freeman greeted Ruby on opening the
restaurant the next morning.
     Ruby sat up and rubbed her eyes. "I had the worst nightmare,"
she began, and then noticed the lumpy bag where her nemesis of the
night had been. "Hey, what's that?" she asked.
     "Presents," said David. "Obviously Santa has come and gone.
Let's open it up."
     Ruby helped him with the drawstring, which now opened quite
easily. The twosome peered inside and saw a plethora of wrapped
boxes, each bearing a customer's name. David grabbed his own, and
hastily unwrapped it.
     "A Clinton backward watch?" he asked, in disbelief. "Are you
sure these came from Santa?"
     "Not a bit of it," said Ruby. "I know Rush Limbaugh when I see
him, even if he is dressed in bunny fur."
     "Rush Limbaugh left this bag?" asked David.
     "Natch," said Ruby. "See here? I can prove it," she said,
holding aloft the box with her name on it. She tore off the
wrapping and hastily plugged in her gift, hanging it from the
Christmas tree.
     "Chirp, chirp, chirp," said the chirping bird ornament.
     "Yep," said David, heading for the kitchen and the .357 he
kept under the counter, "you're right. Couldn't have been Santa."
     "Nope," Ruby agreed, congratulating herself on replacing
David's gun with a less dangerous plaything.
     "I don't believe it," David shrieked, dashing back into the
dining room waving a stuffed Barney over his head. "Not even Rush
is this cruel."
     "It's from me," Ruby beamed. "Merry Christmas."
                               END