“You realize he’s going to kill you for this.” Shiva watched Calico place another ornament set in her shopping basket.
Calico shrugged. “And that’s unexpected, how?”
“He doesn’t like other holidays creeping in on Halloween. He’ll make your death extra gooey and painful,” Calee sided with Shiva.
“But they’re on sale! Can you believe the clearance prices on this stuff?” Calico waved a box of Norman Rockwell figurines. “Only ten dinars! Retails for forty, usually.”
“Uff…do you really think we have enough room for all this in the chariot?” mumbled ShouLao, who was barely visible behind all the boxes he was carrying. They’d brought him along to caddy, which was one of the few things they figured hunters were good for.
“Not to mention your dorm room,” Shiva added.
“I always believe in thinking ahead.” Calico charged on. When they all finally got back, she managed to stuff it all in her closet, pulling only three small things aside. “Here.” She gave each of them a stocking stuffer-sized gift. “A token of my thanks for tagging along today.”
They each looked at the lemonade samplers with appreciation. “Hey, thanks,” Calee said. “I guess Christmas really did come early this year.”
Suddenly, the door burst open. Four large burly men in silk boxer shorts barged in, swinging taped fists and looking very, very mean. The Debs jumped up and huddled together behind the sofa, surprised and afraid.
“What the heck?” ShouLao exclaimed. “Oh no…you know what comes right after Christmas.” He took a right hook to the head and thumped to the floor. “Boxing Day.” He passed out cold.
“No, no, this is all wrong!” Calico shrieked. “It wasn’t really Christmas, it was just a little early shopping, surely you can respect a girl’s need to shop!” Uppercut, whomp, thud.
“I told you he was going to kill you,” Shiva said simply, just before she was laid out.
“She just had to take us with her.” Calee sighed and screwed up her face, eyes shut tight, in anticipation of the heavy blow that would knock her flat. The giant boxers pummeled the Debs a couple more times, just enough to scramble their brains like so many eggs. Somewhere, a music box tinkled out a few crooked notes of “Silent Night.”