Santa Fight Club and Other Christmas Stories

By George Saoulidis

A collection of original Christmas short stories and three retellings.
Contains:
Santa Fight Club
The Impossible Quest of Hailing a Taxi on Christmas Eve
The Red Holidays
Ten Kilos Till Christmas
The Fir Smart-Tree
The Little Match Girl

• Language: English
• Publisher: Mythography Studios
• Release date: Nov 21, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393782148

George Saoulidis

Writer/Director. I enjoy taking ancient Greek myths and turning them into modern sci-fi spooky versions. I also like to write romantic comedies, and people seem to go "Awww!" over them, so why not?  Many of my stories are icky, in various ways. I’m European, we have a higher tolerance for that kind of stuff. Plus, I’m inspired by mythology and Shakespeare, so if you can’t handle tragedy and bodily fluids, feel free to move on. My photo has been redrawn by a neural network. Join the Mythographers, download the free starting library and begin reading right now: https://www.mythographystudios.com/join

Book preview

Santa Fight Club

T hat can't possibly be a thing, I said to my friend.

It is, Derren said, punching his palm with his other fist. He was an angry gay man, he had beaten down plenty of assholes who had made fun of him when he was out with his boyfriend. Fit with rippling muscles, hitting the gym almost every day, I was sure he was messing with me. It wouldn't be the first time.

And it's tonight? During the holidays? I made sure to use that word simply because it annoyed him.

During Christmas, yeah. He waved at me to come outside of the grocery store. Come on.

I was holding my grocery bags, reusable bags only because I wanted to save the environment but was only willing to do the bare minimum. But I haven't paid for these, I hushed at him.

He shrugged. So? Live a little.

I took one step to leave. I turned around, feeling caught. But, nope, the grocery store's clerk was helping out an old lady, he wasn't paying any attention to me. I took another step and felt horrible. Derren just glared at me, car keys in his hand. I haven't stolen a thing in my life, I whispered, hugging my groceries.

Derren snorted and got into the car.

I looked back, biting my lips. Then I took out twenty euro from my wallet, juggling the groceries in my hands, and left them on the counter. The clerk was still dealing with the old lady, she couldn't locate something but didn't remember what it was.

I got inside the car and threw my groceries in the back seat.

You're such a whimp, Derren said and took off.

No I'm not, I squealed, exactly like one.

How are you ever gonna get a girlfriend if you're such a pussy yourself? Derren asked, driving like a madman.

I opened my mouth to complain, but he had a point. No, not about stealing, I wouldn't do that. But I was always second-guessing myself, never taking the plunge.

Check out the bags in the back.

I reached out behind his seat and grabbed a duffel bag full of something soft. I opened the bag's zipper on my lap, held the red fabric high, then turned to Derren. You have got to be shitting me.

THE FIRST RULE OF SANTA Fight Club, is... the Santa in the middle of the ring said.

YOU DO NOT TALK ABOUT SANTA FIGHT CLUB! everybody shouted in unison.

No one's gonna believe you anyways, the Santa chuckled. He punched the air, rubbed his fake beard. Now. If you're here for the first time, you gotta get in the ring. No exceptions.

I didn't take the step, of course. Timid, remember? My fake beard itched a lot and I scratched my chin reaching around it. The Santa suit was also some cheap fabric that would definitely irritate my skin.

A Santa stepped inside the ring, he was shorter than me, but had a fat suit underneath, with a big belly. What's the padding about? I asked Derren.

You said it, extra padding. For taking the punches. I guess it helps, he shrugged.

Then why didn't you give me any? I squealed like a wimp.

Suck it up, Bob.

We got the first fighter, all right! the Santa organiser said, and the crowd cheered.

I looked around the dank basement we were gathered in. It was in a bad part of town, police response if anything should happen would definitely be over fifteen minutes. The place was a dirty open space, now crowded with fifty or so Santas in all shapes and sizes, nobody was out of uniform. And they were holding small, wrapped presents. The only lights coming in were from a streetlight next to a high-up window and from the, I shit you not, Christmas lights twinkling all around the ring, forming a circle. On the one hand, I hated Derren for dragging me into this sleazy deal. On the other, my blood was pumping and I was anxious to see some fighting. So was everybody in there, eyes darted around from everyone to everyone else to see who would take up the challenge.

And then Derren shoved me into the middle of the ring.

I lost my footing and tripped, the Santa pants were a cheap layer over my own jeans, I wasn't gonna let that itchy fabric directly on my skin. I fell beard-first in front of the organiser Santa.

He laughed, Ho, ho ho!

The crowd laughed the same way.

Bunch of assholes.

I pushed myself up, the floor was filthy, thankfully not sticky, and it had dubious stains. I looked at my enemy Santa, he was...

I had no idea what he was. Short, padded all over, big bushy beard, I couldn't make out anything. All I could tell was that he was eyeing me like a Santa eyed his milk and cookies. The Christmas lights twinkled in his eyes, making them multicoloured.

This whole experience was so surreal. I looked back at Derren, he nodded at me. Okay, so he thought I got this. What the heck, why not?

Place your bets, please, the organiser Santa said and someone gave him a red sack. He went around the ring of Christmas lights holding it open, and the Santas dropped their wrapped gifts inside it. Once he was done, he held the sack high. The loot, Santas! Whoever wins, gets the sack, he joked and laughed at his own pun, with an additional, 'Ho, ho, ho.'

It's not that funny, I mumbled, angry at taking the shove.

What was that? organiser Santa said, cupping his ear in my face.

It's not that funny, I said louder.

We have a gloomy Santa, it seems, organiser Santa said to the crowd. We can't have that. You, he pointed at my opponent. Beat some Christmas spirit into him, alright?

I gulped.

And then the short Santa came straight at me with a fist.

I TOOK THE PUNCH, STRAIGHT in the kisser. It hurt, a lot. I dodged the second punch, that fucker was fast. Derren had shown me a couple of moves, just so I could avoid some blows and keep some prick occupied in his endless brawls, just as long as for him to finish up and deal with him.

But he wasn't coming to my aid this time, and this Santa meant business. He kicked me in the shin, I backed away, but I ran out of fighting ring. I took a punch and spun 180,