Rudy's Story
Hi, my name's Rudy. As you may have guessed, I am a reindeer. I don't have any magical powers like those reindeer employed by Santa. I can, however, talk. I talk pretty good too, even though I never went to one of those fancy reindeer colleges, like Donner and Cupid. I'm a pretty mild mannered guy. I don't ask much except three squares a day and some privacy in the can. I never asked for a thing in my life, except one time. Yeah, I remember that day. I went up to the big red toy maker and I say to him "Hey, Santa, what's going on? The missus still busting your balls?" We chit chat back and forth a while, and I finally says to him, "You know, I'm a little down on my luck here lately, and I was wondering if you could help me out." Now, I wasn'y asking for no hand out or nothing. I was willing to earn my keep. I was just asking for a job. I told him I could clean up around the shop or feed the other reindeer, hell, I even told him I'd clean up elf shit, and believe me those little bastards are fucking filthy! Well, he tells me he really doesn't have a spot for me in the shop, and he says he used the last of his magic flying dust on that little shit, Rudolph. I swear, that is one deer that forgot where he came from! A guy gets one headline for saving Christmas one foggy night, and he don't talk to none of his buddies nomore. I used to ask him to play football all the time. It ain't my fault the little fairy couldn't take a hit and his bitch mother wouldn't let him play anymore when we sent him home with a busted nose. You hear that you lttle fuck? I called your mom a bitch! Anyway, I went on my merry way and tried to find find work elsewhere. I did all right taking odd jobs here and there. I used to be a delivery boy for some big time dope pushers, but there were to many hassles from various law enforcement agencies. After that I opened my own dating service. I made some good money off of that, but hooking up those losers got old, so I finally became a VCR repairman. It's decent work, but I ain't exactly living in the lap of luxury. Well, the other day I was watching FOX, and I see an ad for a new Christmas special called "Olive: The Other Reindeer." I couldn't belive it! That fat bastard gave what should have been my job to a fucking broad! No magic flying dust my ass! The little whore's probably baging every elf and reindeer in the joint! Hell, she's probably giving it to Mrs. Claus with a strap on! God knows that fat prick, Santa, ain't had an erection in years. Yeah, I'm a little bitter. I went to Santa as a friend, and the fat prick shit on me! Well, Santa, I got a message for you. You better watch out, and you better not cry when I kick your flabby ass around the world from the North Pole to Satan's backyard!