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Graham
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“YOU’VE GOT TO be kidding,” I said when Raptor handed me an elf costume to wear. It was a green and red tunic with a jester hat and white tights. “I mean, dressing up as Santa is one thing, but now this? I’m going to look like a damn fool.”
“Where’s your Christmas spirit?” he asked, looking so amused I wanted to punch him in the face.
“What little I have is dying as we speak. Do I really have to do this?”
“Don’t be a fucking pussy. Cleaner is out there right now, wearing one of these costumes and handing out flyers. He made no complaints.”
“That’s because he’s going to be snowmobiling soon,” I said. “While I’m stuck playing Frosty, the Gay Elf.”
Raptor snorted. “Frosty was a Snowman. Not an elf. You should stop by later and watch some of the old Christmas movies with the kids. Get yourself re-educated.”
I flipped him off and walked angrily to the bathroom.
Ten minutes later, I stared at myself in the mirror and wanted to crawl into the drain hole. Floating with the clown from the movie IT sounded like a better idea at the moment. The outfit was bad enough, but the tights took things to an entirely new level.
“You ready to go?” Raptor called, pounding on the bathroom door. “Don’t forget. You’ve got to pick up Chloe and she’s going to need time to put her elf costume on.”
Inhaling angrily, I picked up my clothes, opened the bathroom door, and gave him a venomous look.
“Is the crankiness a low blood sugar problem? When was the last time you ate?” he asked.
Gritting my teeth, I walked around him and headed toward the doorway.
“He needs to get laid,” said Hoss, who was now standing next to the bar with a smirk on his face. “Of course, I doubt he’ll get his dick waxed wearing that.”
“Don’t be too sure. There’s a gay bar up the street,” Raptor said.
I turned around and held up both my middle fingers.
They laughed.
“Glad you find this amusing,” I replied, opening up the door. “Merry fucking Christmas.”
“Wait, you’re forgetting something,” Raptor said. He walked over with Chloe’s costume. “Cheer up. Even the Grinch managed to find some Christmas spirit.”
“He was tricked into it by the ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future,” I said dryly.
“That was Ebenezer Scrooge. Raptor is right. You really do need to brush up on your holidays,” Hoss said.
No. What I needed was a stiff drink.