A Very Summer Christmas

(Twas...What a stupid word. Twas the day before Christmas and all through the store I was surrounded by fucking retards while looking to score. Yeah that'll be quite enough rhyming in my head I think. So what am I looking to score? Gifts. Sure I could have went around and shopped for presents earlier, but I was busy DRINKING!

I decided to actually use a cart, something I'm normally against, but I knew it would come in handy. With roving, raving gangs of shopping lunatics and morons I felt it essential to have a mobile weapon for moments just like now. Turning into an aisle I see a gigantic, fat woman staring at the store shelves as if the perfect gift is about to just jump off into her hands and make the decision for her. I wait about a minute before finally saying something.)

Summer: I know you have a busy schedule of taking up fucking space, but pick something and move on.

(She looks over at me angrily, but doesn't say anything. Instead she goes back to staring blankly at the shelf. Yeah, ignoring me is really going to make me just go away. You know what, fine. This is what I have a cart for. I "gently" ram it into her fat ass with a smirk on my face.)

Summer: Whoops. God, don't you hate when the cart gets away from you like that?

(She holds her ass in hand as she makes a scene about how poor little me hurt her gigantic ass before waddling away. Finally. Now I can look at what's on the damn shelf. Hell while I'm doing that might as well have a nip. I reach inside my coat and pull out a tiny bottle of vodka. I take a large sip while looking at the various items for sale. An old lady with a scarf on her head looks at me before shaking her head in disgust.)

Summer: What?

(Then she walks off mumbling about olden times or something. I don't have the patience to listen to someone mumble about when they were young and dirt was invented so that their dinosaurs had something to eat other than them. I'm on a mission. That mission is to spend as little as possible getting something crappy Vivian likes. She goes to work alot, maybe I should buy her some damn pencils. Of course she might be tired of seeing those since she's like the President of pencil sharpening or some shit at her work. After awhile I get really bored shopping but manage to find a few things I felt worthy of wasting money on. Money I could be spending on booze, cigarettes, and flesh. I pay for my goods as quickly as possible and leave the store.

Traffic is annoying as hell. There's cars everywhere, but luckily I don't have to worry about snow. Bakersfield doesn't get any. Instead we get black widows. The damn things seem to be everywhere outside my apartment. I pull up in front of my apartment on Tulare St and park in front of the curb. I let Vivian use the carport for her piece of junk since it's farther away from the door than the curb is. Our place is in the mexican ghetto. We're like two blocks from Flower Street. Stabbings seem to happen there every other week. Still, could be worse, we could be over on Cottonwood, or god forbid, over in Oildale. Cottonwood is the black ghetto. Some people that live there try to pretend it's Compton or something.

I've been driving through there before and people actually stopped their vehicles and mouthed "What the fuck". Seems they aren't used to seeing white people there unless they are doing collections. Of course when said collections are being made there's always a house full of people but the person the collector is looking for isn't there. Hey, this isn't my info. I once knew a person who did collections for the newspaper. Oildale on the other hand is the white trash area. It used to be part of Bakersfield, but the people are so inbred there Bakersfield basically helped it become it's own town or whatever. The only things over there are rednecks and industrial places.

I get out of the car, grab the couple bags of stuff, and head into the house. I pass by Vivian while grunting to say hi. I'm sure she understood. Not that I care. I enter my room and shut the door behind me. I dig something out of a bag and change into my new outfit. It's a santa-style bikini with matching robe and santa hat. Damn hot if I do think so myself. It'll probably be my one girly moment of the year. I push some of my red curls away from my face and dig items out of the other bags. For Vivian I decided against getting her q-tips or earrings as an insensitive joke. I don't think she'd find it funny to get that stuff for christmas when she's missing an ear. I think it would be funny as hell though. Instead I got her one of those giant, pre-packaged, bath and body collections. She'll enjoy that, and besides, we share a bathroom so I'll be able to use any of it if I feel like it.

Surprisingly, she isn't the only person I picked up gifts for. No there were a couple of others on Summer Clause's list. One naughty, one nice. Though I must say, both those terms work for nice to me. Naughty just has an added bonus with it. I got Tony Millennia a new, long, black jacket and a bottle of vodka. Hey, the guy looks like he could use a drink. Nikita, well I got her a life. Yeah right. If a store knew I was buying a life for her they'd refuse to sell it to me. I thought about getting her soap as well cause she could use it. Hell I also thought about buying her crotchless panties that way she didn't have to waste as much time taking off her clothes as usual. I'm sure the random strangers she frequents the bedrooms of so often would appreciate her time saving. Instead though I got her a cute little dolly. A dolly I'm tying a noose around right now. As soon as I'm done with that I'll stick it full of pins. I'm sure she'll appreciate the gesture.

After finishing the prep on my generous gifts I grab the bath and body basket and head out to the living room. I give it a good toss and watch it land and roll under the tree. Vivian looks up from whatever boring book she is reading with an odd expression. Being the ever tactful and caring person that I am I let her know that I bought her a gift out of the kindness of my heart.)

Summer: Merry Christmas Bitch!

(I can tell by her joyous frown that she appreciates my gesture.)

Summer: I got you some bath and body stuff so that you'll smell better. So it's a gift for both of us.

(She looks at it, seeing that I didn't even bother to wrap it, and promply responds. I'm sure it'll be to say thank you. Though I don't think she appreciated me telling her what it was on top of not wrapping it.)

Vivian: You do realize that there's supposed to be an element of surprise with presents don't you?

(Well that wasn't the reaction I was expecting, but like with everything in life, you gotta roll with the punches.)

Summer: The element of surprise is the fact I even got you something. So...surprise.

(It's now that she notices my outfit. Yeah I'm really working the christmas cheer with this bikini. She doesn't say anything at first, but rather looks me over silently for a long moment. Her eyes seem to focus on my nice abs and breasts. I'd say something pretending she was a lesbian or a pervert if I wasn't so curious as to what her reaction will be to my outfit.)

Vivian: You know, I'm not even going to ask. I'm just shocked to see you wearing that. Plus it means you won't be answering the door naked anymore with that thing you call a body.

(She wishes she had my body. It takes a lot of work to be this well-toned while still keeping my feminine curves. She's wrong though. If I'm naked when someone knocks, I'm gonna answer the door that way. I don't have time to waste getting proper for people. Besides, whoever it is has either seen a naked woman or it's about time they did.)

Summer: Wow jealousy is really ugly on you. Enough talk. Give me my fuckin present.

(Hey I say that every year. It's tradition. We have one other Christmas tradition. We actually both play Santa for each other. It sounds dumb and too cute in my head even, but it's what we do. We always fill the other's stalking and leave a present under the tree. My santa gifts to her are always much better than the ones I give her from me. That way I can claim Santa is the one who was nice to her and cares about her and that I don't give a shit about her. Yeah I know, whatever gets me through the night. This year Santa got her some candy that will go straight to her ass, she needs it, even if her thin frame is attractive. Along with that Santa got her a PSP with some violent game. I figure she can take it to work and when she's doing whatever boring work it is she does in the office she can at least be killing people while doing it. Thoughtful, I know.

She hands me a wrapped gift with a quirky smile on her face. Yeah, she gets into the Christmas thing. I tear the paper off as quickly as possible and stare at the shiny object visible through the open front of the box.)

Summer: I've got to admit....this is awesome.

(I can't take my eyes off of my newest possession. It's a big, silver flask. The perfect gift for the hard drinker on the go. I can admit in my head it's a pretty fuckin thoughtful gift. It takes me about a second to decide to fill it. I rip it out of the box and open it before grabbing one of the three ecomony sized bottles of vodka. I pour vodka into the flask before pouring a more than gratuitous amount in my mouth. Hey, it's my favorite vice. Though cigarettes are an extremely close second.

It's times like this I realize that there's a part of me that wishes I could be as thoughtful and caring towards my best, and only friend, as she is to me. I'm just not capable though. Plus if I was it would just bring me one step closer to being the very kind of person I hate. It's this thought of caring that always causes me to beat myself up in my head. I hate that I even have thoughts about caring. It's just not in my nature. Still, she's the only person on this planet I give a fuck about. Everyone else is just a faceless insect begging for me to stomp on them. I shake the thoughts from my head as I smile at Vivian with my new flask in hand.)

Summer: God bless us everyone, or some bullshit sentiment like that.

(With that I take my first swig from my new flask. Tastes great. Guess I'll be carrying this everywhere with me from now on. It'll be easier than carrying glass bottles, that's for sure. I light up one of my generic menthols and smirk.)

Summer: Now put on some Christmas music I don't hate, put out the plate of cookies and shot of vodka, and let's get our asses to bed. Santa doesn't like to deliver presents when we're awake damnit.