Eclectic Voices

Fiction, Monologues, Plays & More

The Day of Christmas

Gift isolated on a white.a poem by Jeff Folschinsky

Part of the December writing challenge: It’s Christmas morning.  As you open your first gift, you are transported to an alternate- universe holiday celebration, in which you are in an extreme position of power.  WRITE ABOUT IT.

It was the day of Christmas, and right down the hall.
There was a big ass present, for me, or for all.

I carefully inspected it with the upmost care.
With hopes I could open it, I might anyway if I dare.

No tags did I find, or markings of any kind.
To tell me whose present in my house I did find.

So I open the wrapping to see what was hid.
To discover its secrets hidden under the lid.

And what to my wondering eyes did I find,
But a bright shiny vortex that just blew my mind.

Not a second did I have to think about it at all.
For I got sucked in, and had a great fall.

I woke and found myself in a land of all snow.
How long I had been there I had no way to know.

Not a sore or scratch on my body did I see.
What ever happened I was okay and still me.

No sooner then I took this all in.
Then a lash was felt on my delicate pink skin.

“Kneel before me!” I heard in a sweet tiny voice.
“You’re here to serve us, and you haven’t a choice.”

I looked around and I saw a small man.
Who, for considering the environment was strangely well tan.

I ask, “excuse me, what’s the meaning of all this?”
He just gave a sigh, and then let out a hiss.

“What about my last statement, did you not understand?”
“Do you understand what I’m saying? Please give me a nod if you can.”

I did understand him, but didn’t say a word.
I needed a minute, to take in what I heard.

The tiny little man, put one hand to his hip.
And with the other gave me another great crack of his whip.

“I can see you understand me,” he let out a cry.
“So don’t think you can outwit me don’t even try.”

“I have been alive for thousands of years.
“I’ll show you no mercy so spare me your tears.”

I looked at him once, then looked at him twice.
I rubbed my poor sores, and said, “that wasn’t nice.”

“I understood everything that you said.”
“I just needed a moment, to straighten my head.”

“Now as understand it, I’m to be your slave.”
And you’ll continue to whip me, if I might misbehave.”

The little man smiled and said, “of course, so please don’t make a fuss.”
“Your life is over, you belong now to us.”

I let out a sigh and said “that’s what I thought.”
I then took out a gun, and said, “now a lesson you must be taught.”

“You silly little man, meet my tiny little gun?
I received last night for sport and some fun.”

“On my person it was, when I came to this land.
So, I’m asking kindly, to drop that whip from your hand.”

The tiny little man did I as asked.
And dropped the whip, and took out a flask.

“You got me now, so let’s have a drink.
It’s not often I’m beaten by someone who’s pink.”

“I can return you to your land, so please don’t act rash.
I can have you back home with a lick and a dash.”

“I looked at him and smiled, and said, I don’t think so my friend.
I’ve got plans for you now, for which I have to attend.”

I was watching a film called Pulp Fiction you see.
Hoping to find someone to play out a scene with me.”

And as luck would have it, you suddenly appeared.
And trust me when I tell you, it’s something to be feared.

You asked me before not to be too rash.
But unfortunately I’m about to get medieval on your ass.

So please, if you would be so kind, and not make a fuss.
and please watch your language and try not to cuss.

This will be slightly unpleasant, I have no doubt.
So lets try to be professional and try not to pout.

But as I talked on, the little man produced a gun of his own.
He produced a magnum from places unknown.

And suddenly we found ourselves standing toe to toe.
Each holding a weapon to vanquish our foe.

We stood there facing each other with fire and our eyes.
Determine to sever each other’s mortal ties.

I smiled at the little man and said lets do this on three.
Then counted to one and shot out his knee.

He sat there yelling, asking “why god, why?
You said it would be three, but it was only a lie!”

I laughed out loud and said, “this isn’t about right.
There is no such thing as winning a fair fight.”

And with that I shot the little man in the head.
and after that he laid there quite dead.

So dear children that’s why the brisket is so good this year.
Because you’re eating one hundred percent Christmas cheer.

So let all raise our glass, and say a holiday prayer.
Dear God, bless my gun, the mighty elf slayer.


Jeff Folschinsky’s plays have been seen at various theaters across North America. He is also creator and staff writer for Perilous and The Trials and Tribulations of Vicky Vixen, a serial late night soap opera spoof at the Eclectic Company Theatre in North Hollywood, California. Jeff’s plays The Unsinkable Bismarck, A Pill By Any Other Name Is The Wrong Dosage, Rendezvous and Revelations and Kisses From Abroad are published by One Act Play Depot. His full length play Turkey Day that had it’s world premiere at The Eclectic Company Theatre, is published by both Norman Maine Play Publishing and Big Dog Play Publishing. His play he co-wrote with Tyler Tanner, The Singing Bone, is published by JAC Publishing. Jeff has written and produced the popular podcasts Virgin Falls, Pasiones Obsesionantes, The B-Movie Bastards and Cult Movie Cuisine. Jeff has also written a movie with Tyler Tanner and Stephanie Wiand called Revenge of the Bimbot Zombie Killers which was directed by Joe Camareno and is due to be released later this year.

One comment on “The Day of Christmas

  1. jfolschinsky
    December 22, 2014

    Reblogged this on Amused to Death and commented:
    Here is a little holiday fun that I wrote appearing in the latest issue of Eclectic Voices.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s


This entry was posted on December 22, 2014 by in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , .
%d bloggers like this: