A Future We'd Like To See 1.29 - The Christmas Episode
By Twoflower (Copyright 1993)

     DISCLAIMER :

     This is quite clearly the most tasteless, gory, violent,
repulsive thing I have ever written.  It has everything a teenage
slasher film has except the sex scenes, and that's just because I
couldn't find a good place to put them in.  It's really not
suitable for children, or even adults for that matter... but if
you've got a sick sense of humor and have watched the network
holiday specials a few too many times, maybe it's time for you to
read something like this.

     Thou hast been warned.

                              *

     The ancient 8-track player crackled to life, as its play
button was nudged by a nearby chunk of a store-window dummy.  The
archaic playback machine sputtered and whirred as the ground
shook.

     "I'm, dreeeeaaming," it sang, "Of a white, christma--"
     
     It was silenced by gunfire.

     Chrissy ducked behind the counter as a line of stray machine
gun fire ripped up the holiday glove displays.  Screaming and
covering her head, she crawled as far back into the checkout area
as she could, avoiding the broken glass.

     "THIS YOUR FIRST YEAR?" the other clerk yelled at her from
the other side of the tiny crawlspace under the cash register.

     "YES!" Chrissy yelled.  "SO?"

     "DON'T PANIC," he shouted back, in a rather calm way.  "IT'S
LIKE THIS EVERY YEAR.  HERE, LEMME MAKE IT A BIT QUIETER..."

     There was a scream of pain as another crazed shopper was
plugged mercilessly with hot lead.  Three shoppers immediately
pounced on the corpse, looting it of gifts.  The clerk shrugged
and opened up a secret hatch under the counter, tapping a red
button.

     An impenetrable force field popped up around the counter and
behind-counter area, as Chrissy could see by the various bullets
and blood stains sticking to thin air.  The clerk frowned, and
tapped another button, silencing out all the noise.

     "Much better," he said.  "That should hold through the
night.  So this is your first pre-christmas sale?"

     "Err... yeah," Chrissy said.

     "Well, looks like you've come out of it better than most of
us," the clerk shrugged.

     Chrissy looked down at herself.  Her nice department store
uniform was ripped and stained, her blouse missing a button and
torn by weed whacker from the hardware department.  Her normally
every-hair-in-its-place look was now suitable for setting on fire
and calling out to shepherds.

     Of course, the clerk was worse.  Most of his tie had been
shredded, along with his shirt.  One shoe was missing and his
pants had a few gashes, along with some makeshift bandages. 
Despite this, he was still grinning.

     "Come on, it's safe to stand up," he said, getting to his
feet.  "They can't get at us now.  We're lucky we managed to get
back here in time."

     "Why... what..." Chrissy stammered, looking at the violence
and looting going on around her.

     "It's always this way around the holidays," the clerk
shrugged as another arm hit the shield, followed a second later
by the other one.  "You know, last minute gift purchases,
shortages of stock, rare items, the usual.  Heck, I remember when
they brought back Cabbage Patch Kids.  We were wading around
ankle-deep in fluid the next day."

     "How could people be so... so... CRUEL to each other?"
Chrissy said, horrified at the insane shopper slugfest going on
outside their shelter.

     "It's a sale," the clerk replied.

     "Oh," she commented, trying to look away from the carnage. 
"Say, umm, what's your name?"

     "How long HAVE you worked here?"

     "Oh, about three weeks."

     "Fair enough.  I've been on vacation that long.  Name's
Jobe.  What's yours?"

     "Chrissy," the girl replied, shaking hands with the boy.  A
bit of unknown stain was exchanged in the process.

     "Didn't they give you any training?" Jobe asked.  "You know,
the usual?  Customer support, buyer satisfaction, small arms,
wilderness survival?"

     "Well... no."

     "Humph.  Cost cutting," Jobe humphed.  "In my day, they'd
have you out in the woods with nothing but a knife and a compass
a good fifty days before today.  The lucky ones that came back
were usually hardened enough to handy the Holiday Shopping
Nightmare.  It's times like these that really try a man's soul...
so how about some yogurt?"

     "Excuse me?"

     "Well, it looks like most of the battle is moving down to
the audio/video department.  We could always go to the Frozen
Yogurt And/Or Croissant Shoppe on the lower level and wait it
out.  Unless they burned it down like they did last year."

     "Is it safe?"

     "Sure," Jobe lied.  "Here, I've got a few bullet proof vests
and some kevlar under the counter.  Just a stroll in the park.  I
doubt anybody's planning on legitimately purchasing anything, so
there's no need for us to hang around."

     "Surely SOMEONE has called the police!" Chrissy exclaimed. 
"I mean, this, this is MADNESS!"

     "Oh, the police are here," the clerk said.  "See?  There's
Officer Wiggins beating up that working mother to get the Manly
Morphing Energy Cowboys Action Playset.  Boy, it's the last one
left.  I wonder if he brought his nightstick to defend it."

                              *

     Jobe casually walked around the gunfights and beatings with
a whistle and a smile, as he and his frazzled companion waltzed
on in their sturdy armor.  Chrissy counted at least six different
local POW laws being broken just walking down the east wing of
the mall.

     "WHERE'S THAT DIRECTORY?" Jobe shouted.  "IS THE YOGURT
SHOPPE ON THE FIRST OR SECOND FLOOR?  I KEEP FORGETTING."

     "WHAT?"

     "DUCK!!!" Jobe shouted, jumping to the ground.  Pausing only
momentarily, Chrissy followed, as a surface to air missile
slammed into left door of Herbert's Sporting Goods Store.  There
were a few screams of agony, the sound of a few thousand
basketballs overheating and exploding, and the faint smell of
burning flesh.

     "THE JANITORIAL DEPARTMENT'S GONNA LOVE THIS," Jobe laughed. 
"HMM.  IS THAT A BLOCKADE UP AHEAD?"

     "LOOKS LIKE PILED UP OFFICE FURNITURE TO ME," Chrissy
replied (loudly).  "EEK!"

     "WHAT?"

     "SOMEONE'S TRYING TO STICK A KNIFE IN MY BACK!"

     "HA.  THE ARMOR'LL PREVENT THAT.  JUST IGNORE HIM, HE'LL GO
AWAY WHEN HE GETS BORED.  HMM.  WE'LL HAVE TO TAKE THE ELEVATOR."

     There was a dull WHUMPH, and the elevator exploded into
flames, littering bags of musical Battlestar Metallica ornaments
over the fountain.  Shoppers charged like lemmings on crack,
clawing over each other to grab them.

     "WELL, LOOKS LIKE THE ELEVATOR'S OUT OF ORDER," Jobe sighed
(loudly).  "THIS IS NO FUN.  WHADDYA SAY WE JUST GO HOME?"

     "WHAT?"

     "I SAID, LET'S JUST GO HOME!"

     "SOUNDS FINE HERE!" Chrissy said, as the man trying to stab
her got bored and left.

     "ALRIGHT.  YOU STAY HERE, I JUST GOTTA GET A BABY BURPEE
DOLL FOR MY DAUGHTER.  BE RIGHT BACK," he said, pulling out a
large bowie knife and holding it between his teeth.  He flashed a
thumbs up and dived into the fray, swimming through the sea of
shoppers towards the Toys Be We store.

     Chrissy wiped away some vomit from a nearby bench and had a
seat, examining the lovely holiday displays instead of the
beatings in front of her.  Only about three of them weren't on
fire, however.

     A Kiddie Hovertank from the top floor soared over the
handrail, spinning out of control and exploding violently against
the wall ten feet away.  The blast threw Chrissy off of her seat
and into the fountain, where she gurgled a bit before finding
something hard and lumpy in her hand someone had dropped in the
fountain.

     Pulling herself to the surface, she examined it.

     "GIFT CERTIFICATES?" she wondered aloud.

     The entire wing fell silent, as a few thousand pairs of eyes
turned on her.  Not on her, specifically, but on the plastic gift
tokens valid through next year.  ShopperVision(tm) only cared
about these; Chrissy herself registered as just an obstacle in
the way to the tokens.

     Several dozen shoppers pounced on her, displacing a great
deal of water.  All Chrissy could remember was the sight of
twenty eyes, wide in insanity, gazing down in capitalistic greed
as various blades, blunt objects, and bullets were slammed into
her.

                              *

     Her vision recovered before her brain did, which is
fortunate, because the sights around her weren't pretty.

     At first she thought she had gone deaf, but this wasn't the
case.  There simply wasn't any sounds to be heard.  All around
her lay the corpses of the dead, with their bloody bags (now
empty, as no gift is laid to waste) clutched in iron grips of
death.  Sunlight was streaming in from the overhead windows, and
the muzak could faintly be heard playing a strangled version of
'Jingle Bells'.  Church bells from across town could be heard
ringing in blissful harmony.  It was Christmas morning!

     "Rise and shine, kiddo!" Jobe said, moving into her frame of
vision.  "Boy, that took awhile.  One Baby Burpee left in stock. 
Had to chase this guy halfway around town, but I finally got it,"
he grinned, showing her the somewhat battered doll.  It burped.

     "Gurgle," she gurgled.

     "Don't try to move," Jobe said, applying more bandages to
her.  "You're lucky all the healthkits weren't purchased.  You're
really quite a mess.  Had to pump the water out of your lungs,
stop the excess bleeding, and all that... took two kits or so to
patch you up when I found you here a few hours ago.  Don't worry,
the store's medical plan will pay for resettings, transfusions,
plastic surgery, etc.  No need for alarm.  Just keep breathing. 
Say, you know what the funny bit is?"

     Chrissy nodded, head splashing against the red pool she lay
in.

     "You're in better shape than I was after my first christmas
here."
                              *

               o/~ Should all aquantance be forgot,
               Somethingorother, aud long sang... o/~

     Seasons greetings from us here in the future we'd like to
see, and remember, there's only twenty more chopping days until
christmas!  And if you're the kind of person who took this story
serious in any way whatsoever, you really need to get out more
often!

               o/~ Should all aquantance be forgot,
               Somethingorother, aud long sang. o/~