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RUBY39-9
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1994-11-24
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6KB
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141 lines
Copyright (c) 1994
JINGLE THIS, PAL!
The man in the grey leather jacket was lining up another
dart toss when the office door opened a crack.
"Incoming!" floated through the opening in an
all-too-familiar drawl. Ruby Begonia followed, clad in an outfit
undoubtedly meant to be festive, but achieving only garishness.
She sashayed up to the desk, plunked down a pile of printouts, and
frowned.
"Ah need your help, hon. Mah messages aren't gettin' to the
man himself." She waved in the direction of the pile of
printouts, and perched on the corner of the desk.
"Well, let me have a look," Michael Hahn said, taking the
sheet from the bottom of the stack:
===================================================================
To: santa.claus@north.pole.com
From: Ruby Begonia <ruby@gate.net>
Subject: Christmas Doin's
Yo, Santa:
This bein' the first Christmas in my newly-opened truck
stop, I kinda figgered I'd have a big blowout. Thought maybe you
could pop by for a sec and entertain my buds. I'll even spring
for the egg nog.
Sincerely yours,
Ruby Begonia
===================================================================
To: Ruby Begonia <ruby@gate.net>
From: Dweezil McGonigle <elf47@north.pole.com>
Subject: Christmas Doin's
Dear Ms. Begonia:
Christmas is our busy season, and as Mr. Claus' official
appointment secretary, I'm sorry to inform you that he will not be
able to attend your affair. Please accept our apologies.
Dweezil McGonigle
Second Assistant
Appointments
===================================================================
To: santa.claus@north.pole.com
From: Ruby Begonia <ruby@gate.net>
Subject: Christmas Doin's
Yo, Santa:
Some weasel named Dweezil intercepted my last message to
you. He tried to tell me you wouldn't have time to stop by the
truck stop for a nog and a little fun. I think you better keep an
eye on those little pointy-eared guys.
See ya on Christmas Eve--try to stop by around nine.
Your Jingle-Bud,
Ruby
===================================================================
To: Ruby Begonia <ruby@gate.net>
From: Alphonse Periwinkle <elf16@north.pole.com>
Subject: Christmas Doin's
Ms. Begonia:
I was forwarded your last two messages by my assistant.
First of all, let me assure you that your missives were reviewed
by the appropriate persons, and that Mr. Claus's schedule will not
allow him to visit your establishment in other than his official
capacity.
Secondly, both I and my assistant were offended by your
characterization and your racial slur. Cease and desist.
Sincerely,
Alphonse Periwinkle
Director, Scheduling
===================================================================
To: santa.claus@north.pole.com
From: Ruby Begonia <ruby@gate.net>
Subject: The little guys with the pointy ears
Santa:
Beware the elves. They're readin' your mail, and they're
keepin' you from talkin' to your friends. Probably like herdin'
cats, havin' to manage all those little runts.
Anyway, I'll be holdin' a mug of my best nog just for you.
We'll all be lookin' for you. See ya soon.
Deck those halls,
Ruby
===================================================================
To: Ruby Begonia <ruby@gate.net>
From: Alistair Entwhistle <elf3@north.pole.com>
Subject: Legal Action
Ms. Begonia:
Your harassment of my vertically-challenged clients will
cease immediately, or I will be forced to file for damages.
Additionally, I am obtaining a court order to restrain you
from attempting to contact Mr. Claus. Santa is extremely busy at
this time of year, and he does not need to waste his time with
frauds and charlatans claiming a personal relationship.
A perusal of our records indicates you are most assuredly
*not* on the "Nice" list.
Alistair Entwhistle, Esq.
Chief Legal Counsel
North Pole Enterprises
===================================================================
"What we have here," said the man in the grey leather jacket, "is
a failure to communicate." He stroked the bridge of his nose with
a forefinger.
"So what're we gonna do about it?" Ruby asked, tugging on her
boustierre. "The jolly fat guy in the red suit is just what this
joint needs for the Christmas party."
Michael smiled. "You're overlooking the obvious, Ruby." He
paused, fired a dart at the back of the office door. "Think about
it. You're a virtual character. He's a virtual character." Plunk.
Another dart creased Bob Dole's brow. "When you want to change
costumes, you change costumes." Plunk, plunk. Two more darts gave
Bitter Bob a pair of horns. "Now, you and I know he can't come..."
"So ya mean, uh, well..." she crinkled her forehead in
concentration, "...so ah can, uh...OH!" She got it, finally.
***
Christmas Eve was rocking, and the man in the grey leather
jacket had parked himself on the stool farthest from the jukebox.
Herm Holtz slid onto the next stool, grunted a greeting in
Michael's direction. He turned to watch Santa gyrate to the tune
of "Devil with a Blue Dress On".
"Hey," Herm hollered, nudging a grey leather elbow, "how did
Ruby get Santa to boogie?"
Michael just smiled, shook his head slightly. No one had
noticed Santa's shiny black boots had high heels, with globes
attached...
END