Osama Claus at Parachute Blue

Late December, 2007

Houston, Texas was the last place I ever expected to find the long bearded, featured festival character of Osama Claus. Cloaked in an ominous black, clouded by heartily loved cigarette smoke and bad drunken breath, he cut a path through the steadily crowding bar, nesting in a corner, unloading his endlessly provisioned, white-trimmed, black sack of debauchery. The taste of the second hand smoke enthralled the holiday terroriser to an delightful degree, Osama Claus prouced a single cigarette and lighter from the darkness that was the morbid veil of his self, though by human's sight it appeared as a faded black sweater and livlier black cargo pants, with boots to match. His salt and pepper beard swayed down past his chest, and while his facial features were full and covered, not even the dry profile hair could hide the angry look, malicious look eternally branded on to Osama Claus' face. The face that told a story, that sent a message; Osama Claus wanted the world dead.

In the hazey distance, the flashy and jubilant nymphs, aptly named the Happy Elves, crowded the entrance welcoming surprised newcomers and beloved regulars of the Parachute Blue. Its reputation was mixed, but legendary, and often times intimidating, but one supposes that ass-less chaps would do that to a few sheltered individuals.

Farmer Happy Elf unleashed a smile when an intoxicated and excited Preppy Asian Happy Elf showed up. Preppy Asian Happy Elf had generously helped himself to the egg nog, this particular batch made by Simple Bill, the bartender and co-owner of The Parachute Blue. The potent beverage exceeded all expectations, including being so dangerous to keep close by; it had to be kept in the basement of the bar. One flick of burning ash even near the direction of the egg nog, snow and ash would intertwine making for a conflicted Christmas and a gray New Year. Simple Bill's working partner, the sharper tounged Vicious Larry, ruthlessly dubbed the potentialy lethal holiday concoction "Dread Nog."

Preppy Asian Happy Elf continued his hugging feast, cheefully throttling any and all that neared him loudly greeting them with a "Welcome!" He went on, enthusiastically threatening any that refused to show cheer by kicking them with his four-hundred dollar elfen boots.

"I kick-uh you with my four-hundred dollah boots. Come here - why you no lemme kick-uh you?"

Osama Claus watched, calculating hundreds of thousands of ways to rid the Parachute Blue of its thril and merriment. His only projected obstacle would be that Preppy Asian Happy Elf.

Osama Claus waited.