Santa Team Six

**WARNING: This story contains strong language and violent content as well as controversial depictions of popular holiday figures.**

This short story/poem was inspired by a prompt from /r/WritingPrompts submitted by /u/FormlessFox.

Prompt: “Every year you convert the coal Santa brings you into diamonds to fund your criminal syndicate. This year you only get a note that says, ‘You made the wrong list–Santa Team Six.'”

‘Twas the night before Christmas

I was going through the mail

A winter storm brewed

I feared there would be hail

I laid eyes upon a letter

Addressed to me

It was from St. Nick

But this was not his typical delivery

This was not

A package of coal

He had not come down the chimney

To deliver this note

It simply said that I had made the “wrong list”

And then I saw the words “Santa Team Six”

I paced and pondered as I tried to figure out

Just what the hell this Santa Team Six shit was about

Then I looked outside and saw that the snow was red

I looked closer and noticed two of my henchmen lay dead!

I radioed my other men in the wake of this violence

But all I heard back was the sound of silence

I ran straight to my armory in a flash

It was time to go through my weapons stash

I grabbed two small uzis and I grabbed my knife

I refused to fall victim to the reaper’s scythe

My business and I won’t die tonight

I am not going down without a fight

I heard the crashing of glass

And treading about

And decided it was time

To snuff these motherfuckers out

I exited the armory and before my eyes appeared

A team of little men in red and green military gear

Armed with assault rifles

They sprung in a hurry

As I unleashed a spray

Of gunfire with fury

I killed them all except for three

That’s when they shot me in both knees

I couldn’t move and I thought I was dead

And then I heard a voice that said,

“Let this bastard suffer and bleed

On this blessed Christmas Eve

Please, go; leave this scene

And leave this stain on the Earth to me.”

The figure was dressed all in red

In military gear from toe to head

He took my guns and revealed his visage

And to my horror it was Santa Claus

I felt the steel on my forehead from his gun

He said, “Did you really think that you had won?

Did you really think you had me fooled?

I am always watching you

I’ve given you too many chances to change

To allow the coal alone to serve as a source of shame

But using it to fund crime as a way to live

That’s something that would even be tough for Jesus to forgive

But on this holy Christmas night

It would be wrong for me to take a defenseless life

Despite all of the blood you have shed

I will not shoot a defenseless man in the head

But to take you away from your business and massive wealth

You will live out your days as an Elf on the Shelf”

So now I sit frozen in time

And I sometimes miss my life of crime

But whenever I think back to that fateful night

I remember how Santa (sort of) spared my life.