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Lobster Claus; Holiday

Stress Manifests

December 21, 2017

‘Twas four afternoons before Christmas, and at the House o’ Saw, it was actually peaceful…no noise at all? The spouse (Lil Red) had taken the Tot, to do some last minute shopping that she’d forgot. Frank the Grim Reaper and John Q., my usual rabble, were having some cocoa while playing Scrabble. Of course that yellow stuffed bear is just the sort, to turn a word game into a full contact sport. That and it was too quiet had me quite worried; so I sprang from my chair- you can bet that I hurried. But as I was springing John Q. walked right in; his little face covered in the happiest grin. He seemed excited, his mood rather dandy, I figured he was going to ask for some…“Where the hell did you get a lobster?”

“His name is William and he came over to…wait are we doing the fun rhymes?” he asked. Yes John, this is the holiday special and we always try to at least imply a rhyme scheme throughout the article. “Oh goodie!” he excitedly replied.

“Ahem-this is my fwiend William, who has any no place to go. He was fweezing his wittle cwaws off out in the snow.” Umm, John the snow melted; that was two weeks ago. He paused for a moment and then said, “I know.” “He’s been under the sofa, oh don’t make the fuss. Can he pwease stay and share Christmas with us?” I said what the hell, the more the merrier. We’ve had X-mas guest before who were quite a bit scarier. So they ran (well William scuttled) off to play, there was no point in b****’in. That’s when the angel of death screamed in the kitchen. Frank doesn’t scream often, if ever at all. So I made with great hast and raced down the hall.

There were cocoa with marshmallows splattered all round. Frank’s bony arms were chopped off and lay on the ground. Now I’m almost certain, about 100%, that this was no ordinary cocoa-making accident. A tall blood red figure stood at the door, whilst Frank’s arms lay twitching on the linoleum floor. He stepped in the room like some aquatic mobster, dressed-up like Santa it was a 6 foot tall lobster? I found the monstrous crustacean rather alarming; obviously Frank found his presence rather…disarming.

Lobster Clause or Santa Claws—what are you supposed to be? In response he shoved past Frank and came straight for me. As he grabbed me up in his pinchers my heart filled with dread. One clamped on my chest the other vised on my head. His words came out gross and garbled as he gave me a squeeze; Twas his voice, not the pressure, that brought me to my knees.

“Your bear is distracted, your angel has fallen. Now I shall allude to why I have come callin’. Yon Sawman I represent the full manifest, of all your pre, present and post-holiday stress. Always rushing around in such a big hurry, always something to do and always you worry. Your nights are restless, your days are distraught, it catches up to you and you have been caught.”

Hold on­—so the physical manifestation….of all my pent-up stress…is a giant lobster??? “Yes…is that a problem?” replied Lobster Claus. No, just clarifying so that the readers will know what’s going on…proceed…

There was nothing to argue—I worry to death, which this may be if I can’t catch my breath. He continued to speak, he got rather loud, “You’re always alone even in a crowd. Your closest friends are dead, stuffed or imaginary.” (My chest started to clinch-this was getting scary). “As for your real friends you never find time.” (I’m gasping for breath now, too incoherent to rhyme). “As for your best friend the Tot he’ll never know you, you’ll be dead from stress long before he can outgrow you! You worry so much that you’ll never be happy!” That’s when a voice proclaimed, “GET YOUR CLAWS OFF MY PAPPY!”

There was a loud buzz, a blade went whizzing by, with a lot of screaming from the Santa-lobster- Claus-thing guy. Saved by my grandson with a toy chainsaw, guess when you have heart you don’t need gas at all. Then I dropped to my knees right there on the rug, amid lobster-guts I gave my best buddy a hug.

In the end, we let William stay since he was just a pawn and he’d already become real close with John. Frank losing his arms seemed a little too much. How can you have the touch of death if Death cannot touch? So I surgically grafted Lobster Claus claws onto Frank. So if a death seems fishy you have me to thank.

As for myself I’ve learned quite a lesson, there’s nothing to be gained except death from stressin’. So through the holiday season and into next year, let me make this point perfectly clear. Take time to laugh, smile and love without hurry. Life’s too damned short anyway to waste it with worry.

I welcome almost all questions and comments via FOCUS, or email me at wanderingchainsaw@gmail.com or you can FRIEND me on Facebook under Saw’s Brood!

Hope to hear from ya, until then try and stay focused. See ya!

 

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