The beginning prolog is directly from Michael Browns blog (http://mdjb.wordpress.com/) under Story Virus v5 for explanation.
"This is basically a series of flash stories. I was tagged by my good friend the writer CJT on her wordvamp blog to help continue a project with some great writers, and given the list of previous posts so I could bring it forward. I will add to the story, then tag more people for them to keep it moving. It has gotten interesting, and I hope my taggees can find some time to help it along."
Kris began to flashback of his days in ‘nam when bombs were going off, bullets whizzing by your head and how difficult it was to not get your ass shot off when you are wearing a big damn red coat and hat.
His Sarg who’s name was oddly enough Rudolph recognized that Kris was a giver and no manner of screaming and ass kicking was gonna get this jolly bearded private to wax any combatants. Rudolph asked Kris, “Can you wrap up dead bodies for evac?” Kris stammered then said, “Look I can build anything. I can wrap anything that would be considered a present or a gift. The wrapping up of bodies falls outside of that parameter.” The sarg slapped his hand to his face, running his hand across his forehead, over his scalp, coming to rest on the back of his neck as if he had suddenly been inflicted with a really bad headache.
He began to feel completely out of place when the sarg began screaming, “pull up your trousers fat man!” But the sarg’s voice was odd. Also instead of his ass feeling clammy like in ‘nam, it felt cold. “North Pole calling Santa, North Pole calling Saint Nicholas.” It was Blitzen’s voice, the voice that could get a chigger to voluntarily pop out of your skin. Groggily Kris awoke from his flashback. More than a little embarrassed Kris bent down grabbing his trouser’s saying, “These damn new fasteners don’t work, keep telling the missus that only the buttons will keep my pants at the equator.”
Donder, Dasher and Pranser swirled there hooves beside their heads, mouthing the words "Koo Koo, Koo Koo." Cupid crept up from behind and jabbed an arrow in the fat mans ass. Kris let out a whoop spinning around, but kept on spinning until he fell onto his right arm and came to rest face down. “Comet, hook him with your antlers and spin him over,” Cupid said. “I’m telling you boys, that stuff will bring down an elephant.”
“He knows that he needs sixteen hours per day minimum to make the big day,” Rudolph said. “Comes out here directing traffic then starts to zone. Turkey pecker, camel toe, power tool, dirty sanchez.”
“Put an efin muzzle on it Rude!” laughs Blitzen. “Okay who’s going to take the lead on this ‘Save the world thing?’” Blitzen lifts his hooves and wags them like quotation marks.
