Alabaster Snowball's fury
I found a site that wanted weird holiday or Christmas flash fiction. It needed to be 350 words and after I wrote the piece, I found a clause saying they were hoping for less Santa stories. Since my story focused more on one of his elves, I thought it would have a chance but that combined with some harsh language and I have another quick story I can share with you. I've edited the language a bit because after some contemplation I think it's funnier with the replacement...
"That big fat meanie," Alabaster Snowball growled as he read the computer readout for the third time.
The proof was right in front of him, had been for a while but Alabaster refused to see. Sugarplum Mary tried to help him discover the truth, but he had ignored her. Balling his fists, Alabaster stalked to his room. The halls were empty. The elves were all in the workroom busy with the final run. Every year there was a last-minute push to reward the kids who swung out of the naughty list. Alabaster opened his door and froze. He knows.
Sugarplum Mary's naked body lay on his bed, a nasty gash ran across her neck. The walls were painted in her pink blood, and the room stank of bubblegum. Before he could stop himself, his stomach heaved up his lunch of gingerbread and hot chocolate. This must end.
Stepping to his closet, he reached to the far back. His fingers wrapped around the handle of his candy cane. It had been an eon since he last fought, but a quick inspection showed the peppermint blade was still sharp.
Alabaster kissed Mary on the forehead before hustling out to find her killer. His grip tightened on the cloth wrapped handle as he burst into the sleigh room. This late in the season, it was the only place Santa would be.
"You'll pay for Mary and the children," Alabaster snarled, springing towards Santa.
For such a large man, Santa nimbly moved aside, grabbing his club in the process. A toothy grin split his cheeks, and he laughed his trademark laugh.
"Alabaster, whatever is the problem?"
Their weapons clacked together with a spray of candy shards. Santa answered each attack with a block before driving his club down on Alabaster's head. He stood over Alabaster, raising his club.
"Silly little elf. I'm freaking Santa Claus. I do what I want."
"Language," Alabaster said faintly, driving his blade up into Santa's exposed belly. Santa blinked in disbelief as his insides poured out. Alabaster faded knowing the abuse of the naughty list was over.