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Billy placed the red plate of sparking sugar crystal covered cookies at Santa’s feet.  The aroma of freshly baked cinnamon and cloves almost covered up the smell of fresh blood.  

“I promise I’ve been good this year, Santa.” Billy said, almost like it mattered.  Santa had missed his house last year.  Billy was sure it was just a misunderstanding he didn’t get his hammer and tacks, or the whip that cracks like he’d asked for.  It couldn’t have been because of the dead squirrel he’d snuck into the girl’s lunchbox at school. That had been a funny joke.  She’d made such a fuss about it even though it was already dead.  

He’d made absolutely sure that Santa would have to let him explain what a good boy he’d been this year.  The tripwire he’d strung in front of the Christmas tree had worked like a charm, Santa hadn’t seen it at all. He’d fallen headfirst on the hearth stones by the fire and knocked himself out cold.  Silly old elf.  Now he was laying in a growing pool of blood that Billy kept using Santa’s red hat to wipe up.  Santa would be okay, he was magic after all.  

Honestly, Billy hadn’t even been all that bad this year.  He could only think of one time he’d gotten scolded. When he had put weed killer in Freddy McCooly’s water bottle at soccer practice and then laughed when he drank it.  It wasn’t his fault Freddy’s head looked just like a fuzzy yellow dandelion.  Really, he’d been doing him a favor.  Besides, Freddy was going to be fine.  Mostly.  

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Okay, and last week too, if he was being truthful, which he was because that’s what good little boys were. Of course, one knew about this one so it didn’t really count, but he was prepared to admit it if Santa brought it up. The head of baby Jesus in the church’s large outdoor nativity scene had been replaced with a dead possum head he’d found on his way to school.  Seeing batty old Ms. Conner from across the street taken away in an ambulance when she’d found it the next day before going to Mass had been especially satisfying. He’d always hated her dumb, fat garden gnomes he keep tripping over when he went to pee on her rose bushes. It wasn’t like he was the one that gave her a bad heart though, so Santa could surely forgive him those minor things when he woke up.

That’s when Billy noticed the blow poke, the long metal tube with the barbed hook on the end that Daddy used to stir and blow on the fire.  Santa had landed right on top of it.  Billy picked up the end of the blow poke and yanked on it.  It was stuck fast underneath Santa’s enormous belly.  

He yanked again, this time even harder.  There was a distinct ripping sound of cloth and flesh tearing as Billy fell backwards and landed on this butt in an undignified huff, the bloody blow poke clutched tightly in his hand.  Everything looked okay for a second, then the side of Santa exploded, a flood of squishy red and pink meats leaked out.  Billy scurried back out of the way but still got some on his favorite reindeer slippers.  

“Eww. Gross, Santa,” Billy exclaimed, and kicked Santa’s body with his now blood-covered slippered foot.  

None of this was going the way Billy planned.  Maybe if he just put everything back where it was supposed to go.  The long gooey intestine was slippery in his hands and the cut in the side of Santa they had come out of didn’t want to fit them back in.  Billy finally got frustrated enough he threw them in the fireplace instead.  They cracked and popped cheerily, smelling a little of the sausage his mother made in the mornings and poop.

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Santa looked a bit deflated now. He let out a low painful groan as Billy poked him in the face with the bloody end of the blowpoke. He couldn’t be hurt too bad if he was still making noise.  If anything, Billy could stuff him with some of the red tinsel from the tree as a replacement, and, he giggled, maybe a bowl of strawberry jelly from the fridge.  

Billy had worn himself out with all that yanking and mopping.  He sat down cross legged in front of the plate of cookies he’d brought Santa earlier and reached for one with a bloody hand.  Santa would forgive him for eating one of his cookies.  Santa would forgive him for a lot of things.  Billy wouldn’t let him go until he did. 

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1 Comment

1 Comment

  1. Jennifer Weigel

    December 21, 2020 at 8:25 am

    Snips and snails and puppy dogs tails… with a side of murder…

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Original Creations

Simple Pleasures, a story about getting away by Jennifer Weigel

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-Mountains-

A serene mountain landscape yawns; monumental evergreen trees fingering a brilliant azure sky stroked with wispy clouds.  The air is crisper and fresher here, wafting its piney fragrance along the meandering deer path that bends and swerves down the gradual slope…

-Reset-

-City-

A bustling urban environment beckons, its diverse, brightly-clothed denizens laughing with one another, casually parting as you stroll through their midst.   Sunlight dances through the crowd, reflecting off of towering buildings, cars, and bicycles.  Sounds swell together as though breathing life into all interconnected within this rich tapestry of time and space.  The street is a cacophony of alluring smells, and the savory scent of kosher all-beef hot dogs…

-Vegetarian-

Fragrant cumin zing of vegetable samosas…

-European-

Perfume of freshly baked baguettes embraces you in a warm hug as you sit at a small metal café table, savoring an espresso…

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-Caffeine Free-

Lavender cremosa…

-Non-Carbonated-

Limonade…

-Reset-

-Beach-

The warm sand squishes between your bare toes as the soft ocean waves lap at your feet, beckoning you to wade further into the cool water…

-No Swimming-

The woven rope hammock stretched between two perfectly-spaced palm trees sways slowly as you lounge in its cradle, sipping a Mai Tai…

-Non-Alcoholic-

Iced lemonade in a highball glass through a red plastic straw…

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-Eco-Conscientious-

Paper straw, the citrusy elixir providing respite from the steamy…

-Less Hot-

Warm breezy summer…

-Spring-

Spring air, children…

-Nature-

Birds…

-Silence-

You close your eyes, hammock gently rocking you to slumber.

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We here at My Universe wish to thank you again for choosing our services.  We know that there are many post-cataclysmic alternative realities available, and we appreciate your business.  Please enjoy your respite from the societal collapse, and remember us next time you need to unwind.

Pineapple getting away from it all
Pineapple getting away from it all

And feel free to check out more of Jennifer Weigel’s work here on Haunted MTL or here on her website. And if you really feel like getting away and helping clean up the beach a bit, check out this relaxing video from Dylan Clark titled Seagrass. Or maybe that wasn’t so relaxing after all… 😉

Portrait of myself with dark makeup and crow skull headdress, backlit by the sun.
Portrait of myself with dark makeup and crow skull headdress, backlit by the sun.

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Original Creations

The Scent of Blood: Comic Book Art by Jennifer Weigel

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Somehow I came across an older Midnight Panther comic book, Feudal Fantasy #2 from the late 1990s to be precise, and I thought I’d reappropriate it into a new story as a collage. Anyway, this is what evolved. Honestly there wasn’t a lot of content to work with, but that isn’t surprising seeing as how that wasn’t really the point of the original… And sorry, I saved the erotic bits for another project, though even that was pretty tame in this one – just a bunch of boobies.

The Scent of Blood comic book art
The Scent of Blood comic book art

Images: Black and white line drawings of wide-eyed anime women and men in various states of undress, looking cute, being coyly pensive, and hack ‘n slashing.

Text reads: I like… men who are dying. We ought to just kill everyone involved. The scent of blood!! I never see his face, he always wears a mask. What a waste of time. I don’t like this. The horny bastard. What a pig!! -Slash- Sounds like it could be fun.

Ferryman comic book art

Images: More black and white line drawings of wide-eyed anime women and men kissing and hack ‘n slashing.

Text reads: Mercenaries of glorious Edo, if you can make the flowers that bloom along the rivers during spring drop their petals, then do so. I’m the Ferryman of the River Styx. Whssh.

OK, OK – here are some boobies since you stuck with this so long. And here’s a link to some more of my comic book collages, in case you are interested.

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Portrait of myself with dark makeup and crow skull headdress, backlit by the sun.
Portrait of myself with dark makeup and crow skull headdress, backlit by the sun.

And feel free to check out more of Jennifer Weigel’s work here on Haunted MTL or here on her website.

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Original Creations

Bonus Black Friday story: Zombie Apocalypse by Jennifer Weigel

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Black Friday.

You can’t beat the deals.  So many of us.  Waiting.  Readying.  Checking the time.  Counting down the seconds.  You better believe I earned my place at the start of the line.  I’ve been camping out here since late Wednesday.  Yeah, yeah, the holiday was yesterday.  Whatever, I had my family’s full endorsement.

Because that new high-definition television beckons.  The best in zoning out technology.  All channel access.  Cutting edge entertainment.  Bleeding edge.  That blade is sharp, baby.  Like a razor.

But this kind of escapism is costly.  A reality check says it’s not in my family’s budget.  We don’t make that kind of money, and so here I am.  Among all the others vying for the same prize.

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Only one will get there first.  Only one available.  Must have TV.  Must have T.V.  Must.  Have.  T.  V.

An employee approaches the door.  Nobody noteworthy.  A soon-to-be-casualty.  No more.  No less.

We rise and lurch into place.  Ready…

On your mark.

Get set.

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Go!

Black Friday Dealz... Must Have TV... Zombie Apocalypse
Black Friday Dealz… Must Have TV… Zombie Apocalypse

Original images generated with Nightcafe AI art generator.

Portrait of myself with dark makeup and crow skull headdress, backlit by the sun.
Portrait of myself with dark makeup and crow skull headdress, backlit by the sun.

And feel free to check out more of Jennifer Weigel’s work here on Haunted MTL or here on her website. Or if you just want more zombies, might I recommend either Elvis or the Fashionistas?

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