Monday, December 17, 2012

The Favorite


Donner had just flipped up the last of her barstools. A flare of red and white light streamed in from the outside. She sighed and pulled a barstool down and searched the refrigerator for milk. The door pushed open, ushering in a swirl of snowflakes and frost. His heavy boots thudded against the old floor beams of the bar as he sat down with a long-winded sigh. Donner placed a glass of milk before him.

“I’m out of cookies,” she said.

“I didn’t come here for the cookies.” He chuckled as he drank his milk.

She smiled, “Then why you here, Nick?”

“Gonna make me beg, huh?”

“I told you last year, boss. That was my last run.”

“C’mon, D. The crew’s a mess. Dasher’s in rehab with Rudy not far behind him. That idiot, Dancer, is in a cast. Cupid is all pierced up, hardly the picture of jolly cheer. Prancer is alright but no one listens to him and Comet…I don’t know what the hell’s been going on with him.”

“Keep him away from Blitz and he’ll be able to focus.”

“I need you, girl.”

“And what’s in it for me?”

Nick smiled, “Retirement…at the village” Nick passed her a blueprint of a cabin all her own. “Hand in your bar towel; maybe help me whip a couple young bucks in shape? Whadd’ya say?”

Stunned, Donner took the blueprint. “It’s beautiful…but why me?”

“You always were my favorite, Donner.”

3 comments:

fixitordeal said...

I love the gritty realism you bring to these stories!

blogdramedy said...

I love redemption stories. You're gonna make me cry aren't you? :)

SteveB said...

I DON'T TRUST SANTA!