Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Side Effects

He couldn't remember how it happened. Was it the wine? The side effects from his cholesterol medication? Or was it the fight? His fur was still wet from the vat of rum-spiked eggnog she had bucked onto him. But then the night went black, his memories fuzzy. He had been angry then sleepy. All he had wanted was a strong buzz and a warm fire.

As little men and women ran around his home with buckets of snow trying to dampen the fire, Dasher knew he had hit rock bottom. Suddenly, a smack on his ass: WHAP!

Shit. It was The Boss.

“What the hell is a MATTER with you?!” he growled as Dasher retreated, ashamed of how far he had fallen. Dasher imagined his jowls jiggling behind that nicotine stained beard.

“You can’t throw LOGS into a GAS fireplace!”

“Well, why the hell NOT?!” Dasher barked as he lit a cigarette and took a deep long drag.

“Dash…” The Boss ripped the cigarette from his mouth and stubbed it out on his antler. “You don’t have a damn chimney.”

Dasher looked up to the smoldering ruins of his home and noticed, for the first time, the absence of the chimney he always assumed he had. Just as he assumed he was the only buck for her, just as he had assumed mixing his wine and medication would be harmless, now Dasher assumed it was time to get some help.


Anonymous said...

A self-help group for reindeer. Antlers Anonymous?

Good one! There's going to be some good reading going on. :)

Anonymous said...

Oh, man. This was dark. I love it!
Dasher is like the Hunter S. Thompson of the reindeer world. Great story!

SteveB said...

It always comes down to doe problems. Always. I'm with you brotha...

sdneeve said...

Brilliant, dark and moody. Loved it!

Anonymous said...

Well done, RR. Well done!

Anonymous said...

Logs in a gas fireplace! Love it. :)