fandomtownies | Holiday Grove, Early Sunday Evening

Entry tags:

Holiday Grove, Early Sunday Evening

The plan had involved Jake, and Bo, and a night of dancing and drinks and the sort of things that might follow dancing and drinks if you were, well. Jake and Bo.

Unfortunately for them, the plan kind of got off track when they'd ducked into that one store that sold holiday stuff due to a last-minute decorating emergency. And no, the problem hadn't been excessive crowds of holiday shoppers, but rather one confused gremlin who'd been separated from his bretheren due to a rather bossy little penguin herding him here. Confused, cranky (as if gremlins ever really weren't), and chompy. Which meant, well...

"YOU!" Saint Nicholas thundered from where he slouched on his throne, currently located near the checkout aisles of the Holiday Grove. "Bring me more eggnog!"

[ooc: oh god. so, so open.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

What was Bojingles, the holdiday elf, for, if not to bring more eggnog? Um, just as soon as she stopped trimming her new outfit with tinsel, that is. "Right away, Mister C!"

"Ah, Bojingles," Claus said with a sigh. "It's good to know that in times of strife there are those I can always..." Pause. Dramatic head-turn. "...Count on."

"Sure, Boss!" Don't ask where she got the eggnog. Just don't. "You can always count on me!" She handed him a goblet of eggnog, then wiggled her fingers. "As long as you don't want to count higher than te--" Oooh, she had sparkly red high-heeled sandals - she could wiggle her toes too! "Twenty."

Of course, when she wiggled her toes, the rest of her wiggled as well, which made the strategically-placed jingle bells jingle, which made her look down at them and jingle them again, on purpose. "Twenty-two! You can count to twenty-two on me!"

"A pity there are only twelve days of Christmas," Claus mused, eyes drifting over to her, ah... jingle bells. "Perhaps we should look in to getting that changed."

"Wouldn't that tire out the geese?" Bojingles cocked her head to one side. "They do so much laying already..."

"Oh," Claus steepled his fingers together. "I'm sure we could find someone willing to take on some of the... laying duties, don't you think?"

"Maybe the swans?"

......

.........

"Ohhhhhhhhh!"

Being quick on the uptake was for other elves. Bojingles' talents lay in a different direction. "That's a good one, boss!" Jinglejinglejingle.

"I rather thought so myself, my dear," Claus declared, sauntering over to where Bojingles stood. "Now, tell me, what list do you think I should put you on this year? Naughty? Nice? Or..." eyebrow waggle, "both?"

[keyboardwaffleface apparently means bedtime, oops.]

"Both!" Bojingles chirped immediately. "Double the presents!"

Kenzi had been out doing holiday-acquiring (and going quite well) when...

"Oh, sweet silver city sidewalks of silence."

"Ooh, I like that song!" Bojingles did a happy little elf dance. "Except I don't think it goes quite that way..."

"Noooooo?" Kenzi caroled, grin starting to spread. "Could you sing it for me, so I can get it right?"

iPhone on!

Bojingles frowned. "I don't know all the words to that one." Mostly because none of them were dirty, and it didn't have the right beat for giving lapdances to. "I know the one about kissing Santa Claus, though!"

Actually she knew several of those.

"Really?!" Kenzi squeaked, in order to choke back giggles. "How about Santa Baby?"

Bojingles clapped her hands together. "That's my favorite! But I need the Boss for that one." Seriously, there are certain songs that cannot be sung anywhere but Santa's lap. Everybody knows that.

"Well, gosh, I wouldn't want to make you do it wrong," Kenzi said, even more happy. "You just go grab your Boss. I can wait!"

The plan so far as Jono had been concerned was a trip to the Holiday Grove to make certain that there wasn't some sort of outstanding debt after the Winter Showcase, because Kenzi had gone all-out decorating the Boards, and there was no way that all of those decorations could have come cheap.

But there was some plonker set up by the checkouts, and in order to get to the cashier, he'd have to first get by the yelling man in the wide-open shirt. And his Santa hat.

"Sorry, mate, I'm just looking to get into the queue, if it's all the same with you."

"I know you," Claus said slowly, turning his gaze towards Jono and raising one eyebrow. "You're the snowman who tried to kill me."

Oh, good. Santa was a madman.

"... I am, am I?" He was afraid to ask. He was. He did not want to know.

And yet...

"And how can you tell, through this clever disguise?"

Where was a video recording device when one needed one?

"I see you... when you're sleeping," Claus replied. Not at all like a creeper.

Oh no. There was nothing even remotely horrifying about that statement whatsoever.

"... But I'm generally not doing much of anything when I'm sleeping," he pointed out. "Nevermind trying to kill somebody."

"I also know when you're awake," Claus pointed out.

"Well, obviously. I'm hardly sleepwalking," Jono reasoned. "Besides, I'm an insomniac."

You weren't going to catch him in the act, Claus.

"Don't get smart with me, or you'll be dealing with more than just coal in your stocking this year."

WHAT DID THAT EVEN MEAN.

"He means switches," Bojingles helped out. "Naughty listers get the kinky stuff."

Jonothon's mouth formed a silent little 'o' shape.

"That certainly sounds... adventurous." That was not a 'no,' but, well, he recognized Bo, at least. "Here I was thinking, 'what could possibly be more naughty than coal,' and now I find myself astounded that I didn't realize sooner."

He was making the mental note. Attempt to kill Newfie Santa, get adult toys.

Hercules had come in to buy some wreaths.

He was more than a little boggled by the man in the thrown.

"You do not seem rotund enough to be Santa," he remarked.

"Atkins Diet," Claus replied solemnly. "Works wonders, if you can stick with it. I do miss cookies, though."

"And you still managed to by jolly?" Hercules said. "That is some feat. But I suppose your reindeer are grateful."

For the record, Herc did not think this person was actually Santa Claus.

"There is none more jolly than I, my friend," Claus steepled his fingers together. "None."

"...Do I have to sit on your lap to tell you what I want for Christmas?" Hercules asked. Because it seemed the thing to do.

"That is generally how it works, yes."

Hercules set his wreaths aside and stepped closer.

"...And you're not off hours or anything?"

Herc was thinking it wouldn't hurt.

"The Clauses are never off duty. It is our burden as well as our joy to serve the people."

Hercules stepped closer.

"Well, here goes nothing."

And yes, that was Herc attempting to sit in skinny Santa's lap.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Holiday Grove, Early Sunday Evening

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject