bobdylan5

Another Holiday Offering
Current mood: weird

Where had Giant Santa Claus come from? No one knew, specifically General Turgenson whose job as the director of the Joint Chiefs of Staff was to focus the military might of the nation on one thing:bringing the colossal Kris Kringle down and bringing his men home--specifically before Christmas. But General Turgenson also knew that the task was a daunting one. Giant Santa Claus was big and growing bigger--by all reports he was over fifty feet tall. In ten days he had flattened--in sucession--a minature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer, a little gingerbread village with candycane telephone poles, all of the inhabitants of the Island of Misfit Toys, a town called Bedford Falls, and a Super Wallmart. General Turgenson's boss, the President of U.S., had been open to establishing diplomatic relations with the amazing colossal Claus--that is until the devastation of the Super Walmart.
"Nobody messes with our Walmarts!" the Pres had shouted. "I don't care what it takes. Bring down the son of a bitch and bring me his giant red cap!"
"Yes sir," General Turgenson had said, giving the Pres a crisp salute. "Uh, does that mean we can use our nuclear deterrent, too?'
The Pres had hit General Turgenson over the head with a copy of the 9-11 Commission Report. "No...no...nobody is bringing down a beloved holiday icon with nuclear weapons on my watch. You'll just have to use conventional methods, General Turgenson. That is all."
And now, here was General Turgenson, in a make-shift command post, about a mile away from the Mall of America in Bloomington, Minnesota. Giant Santa Claus had been spotted heading this way by Marine pilots, who were now trailing him at a safe distance in F-18s. There was no doubt about it. Giant Santa Claus was big. And he was pissed off. And he was headed for the largest retail space in the United States, three days before Christmas.
General Turgenson got on the radio to one of the pilots.
"This is Big Grinch to Frosty the Snowman, can you read me over?'
There was a flurry of static from the radio, and then the wing commander came back.
"This is Frosty reading you Big Grinch."
"What is the location of Big Headache--over" The code name for the giant Santa was Big Headache.
"You should be able to see him. Oh my god, he just stepped on a Borders!"
And there he was indeed, standing at the edge of the south parking lot, rising up up into the wintery Minnesota sky--Giant Santa Claus--a part of the Border sign still sticking to one massive black boot. He didn't look festive and jolly at all. He just looked pissed off.
"Fire!" General Turgenson shouted to the troops that were amassed in front of the Mall. "Fire Fire Fire!" went the command down the chain-of-command. And with that tanks and anti-aircraft guns and rocket launchers went "BOOM!" and "KERPOW" and "DA DA DA DA DA DA DA" against the jolly old former-elf.
"Mommy! They're shooting at Santa Claus!" a little three-year old girl cried to her mother from the Old Navy across the street.
"Don't worry," the mother said, taking her daughter's hand and leading her into the store. "That isn't the real Santa Claus--that's just one of his extremely big helpers. Now come on. We have to get your father a toboggan cap..."
The only effect that the melee had on the Giant Claus was to make him more pissed off.
"HO HO HO HO HO HO HO HO HO," he laughed, grabbing one of the F-18s out of the air and hurling it down toward General Turgenson and his men.
"Cease fire! Cease fire Cease.." Those were General Turgenson's last words, as the F-18 came hurling down on him and his valiant army men
"HO HO HO HO HO HO HO HO HO MERRY CHRISTMAS!" Giant Santa Claus thundered as he proceeded to tear the roof off of the Mall of America. He was still searching for that perfect Christmas present for Giant Mrs. Claus and he hadn't found it yet. He would be so glad when the holidays with all their craziness were over, and things returned to normal.