Considering the yearly growing number of murders that occurred there, it was very strange that people continued to move to Kittenville at all. Some people blamed its popularity on the really brilliant tree that stood in the town square. Others said that it was probably something to do with gypsies. Most, however, simply said "Stop asking such shit questions and watch out behind you, that gypsy's just slipped a estate agent's catalogue into your bag".
For Jimmy though, it didn't matter why he'd ended up there. Kittenville was his home, for better or for worse, and he spent most of his time waiting for some better to turn up, as he'd been dealing with a hog-load of worse since the moment he'd been born.*
(*the moment he'd been born, the doctor accidently shot him with a rifle, mistaking the anti-natal room for a forest and Jimmy for a deer)
Jimmy was a sololnm- solloumn- soloulm he was a sober young boy, and never was he more sober then around Christmas.
If there was one thing Jimmy hated more than being mistaken for a deer when crying and naked, it was Christmas. His hatred dated back four years, to when a boy in a red coat had pushed him over on a particularly cold day. Jimmy would be the first to admit that this was a pretty tenuous link, but, as Jimmy himself said:
"The ground was really, really hard. And I was wearing spiky pants."
And there wasn't a lot of arguing with that. Also his Dad had been killed in a Christmas-based combine harvester accident four years ago, so that probably had something to do with it as well.
Jimmy's problem was that his mum loved Christmas more than snakes loved gloves. A lot more. Like really a lot more than that. That wasn't a great example, but trust me, she really did love Christmas. She loved Christmas so much that she tried really hard to give birth to Jimmy on Christmas day, just so that she felt like she had a real reason to celebrate. Which she did. And that was probably another reason Jimmy hated Christmas so much. That and their last name being 'Christmas'.
Every year, Jimmy had to make sure that he got his Mum a present worthy of her love of Christmas, knowing that his birth would go unnoticed by the world. His mum tried to cheer him up, stating "Jimmy, think about it this way, the entire WORLD celebrates with you on your birthday!" But, as Jimmy astutley pointed out, that was bullshit.
But life will be what it is, and so this year Jimmy walked towards the town centre knowing that once again, he would do his best to please his mum, seeing as she'd been blinded six christmasses ago and all.
He passed shop after shop with a heavy heart. A new piece of bread? Some egg shoes? Nothing seemed to stand out, except a garden hat-stand, which didn't really take his interest anyway.
"Hey, Christmas!"
Jimmy turned away from examining the latest in carrots, to see his arch nemesis, Bruno Brunelli but feet away from him. Bruno got away with saying almost anything, because he had been paralysed from tripping whilst kicking some puppies some years back. Everyone thought he put the cockmunch in cockmuncher, and that he didn't 'put' it, but rather 'cock-munched' it in. But when his wheelchair gazed at you like shiny red-cross collection orphan with wheels, there was little you could do. Even Jimmy, who'd had his share of cockmunchery in his time, found it difficult to bring it up. Especially as Bruno refused to believe he had a wheelchair in the first place.
"Whats a LOSER like you doing in a place like this?" Bruno scoffed, carefully reversing his wheelchair into a designated parking area.
"Hi Bruno" said Jimmy calmly, "would you like some help with your chair?"
"What chair, you dickshoot?" said Bruno, as he took out his disabled parking badge and swung it casually around his neck. "Do you mean the chair that I used to do YOUR MUM last night?"
"No," said Jimmy, "no, that's not the chair I meant."
"yeah well maybe it should be, you ass-cradle. You better just watch it, or i'll kick the living crap out of you. And then when that living crap is dead, i'll kick the DEAD crap out of you, just to make totally sure you're all crapped out of any type of crap that might-"
"I understand, thanks" said Jimmy, staring not in-obviously at Brunos inactive legs.
"I have to go anyway, cock.... shit. I've got a football game to play in, and the team will go freakin crazy if I'm not there for kick-off"
"yeah sure," said Jimmy under his breath, "cos they'll have to get a table to serve the drinks on instead."
"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU SAY YOU SHAFT-BUNCHER?" screamed Bruno, who had used the power of ears to hear what Jimmy had said. Jimmy was a bit of a dick too, now I think about it.
But Jimmy didn't answer. His eye had suddenly been caught by something else. A ragged old woman had lurched into view, clutching trinkets of the like Jimmy had never seen before. Her face was a plump mystery, covered in hair. The shades of her skin mixed with her hair, which shone with a light the same colour as her dress, which was itself a misty colour reminicient of her shoes. Her shoes were tangled up in socks much the same colour, a sort of murky echo of her face.
Over the dulling sounds of Bruno frantically beating Jimmy's shins with his own feet, Jimmy could hear her tinny voice, calling to the crowds,
"Christmas gifts, my dears, beautiful gifts for those you love, and in no way cursed or evil or anything horrid like that, just really nice things, the type of things that would be part of really nice stories about heaving breasts and sweaty, breast-filled meadows."
Emboldened by the lady's voice, and strengthened by the large amount of enticing coughing she was now doing, Jimmy pushed Bruno away quite firmly (with his arms and hands) and walked towards the ragged figure. She was also standing by the brilliant tree, which helped. Seeing him approach, she grinned, and her eyes seemed to glaze over like Greggs 5 for a pound donuts, except there were two of them, and they didn't cost anything.
"My dear boy," she whispered softly, "how happy I am to see you."
"Thanks," said Jimmy, "yeah this has been brilliant so far isn't it? The walking went well, and now the talking has kicked off, I'm really happy with it,"
"quiet, my dear", said the woman a bit less softly. "Now is the time to listen, not to speak. I have the perfect treasure for you. You wish to give a gift this Christmas?"
"Well yeah, that is the tradition, I'm not planning on setting the house on fire and doing a shit in the bath just to change things up a bit". He really was a bit of a dick.
"Quiet, my dear" said the woman again, "I have for you a gift of immeasurable worth, but it must go to the one you love best. Then, and only then will its immense beauty be revealed,"
"Oh, right well that's pretty-"
"Quiet, my dear. Do not argue with me, for you cannot argue with your destiny,"
"I'm not, its seems brilli-"
"Quiet, my dear. You are young and headstrong, but soon you will learn."
"Alright then,"
"Quiet, please do not try to resist my offering,"
"I'm really-"
"Quiet. You cannot imagine the power of this gift."
"honestly, I"
"Quiet, my dear."
Without another word, seeing as the author was pushing it as it was, the woman brought from behind her back a canvas bag, wrapped in what can only be described as some string. Jimmy held his breath, and waited with bated breath. He let out a quick breath and then took a long breath in. It's fair to say there was a hell of a lot of breath action going on. The woman took her wrinkled old hands and dove into the bag like a dog diving into the crotch of an embarrassed stranger. Jimmy did a few more things with his breath that probably don't need extended explanations. The old woman opened her hand, to reveal... a George Foreman grill. But a George Foreman Grill the like of which Jimmy had never seen. It glowed with an inner power, borne of being made entirely out of ice, and effectively being totally useless.
"What the shit is this?" asked Jimmy, not unreasonably.
The woman grinned, as she placed the frozen grill into Jimmy's hands
"Just take it, and trust what I have told you. Give it to the one you love best, and see what rewards you reap."
Jimmy looked down at his ass-heap of a present.
"But I don't understand. How can this possibly-"
She had gone.
Jimmy looked rapidly about him, to no avail. Well, there was some avail, but the avail he ended up with was another foot beating from Bruno, who'd decided to sacrifice the first half of his match to pound Jimmy onto the pavement. Which, lets be honest, is pretty shit avail. Not even staring up at the tree took away the pain of his foot-punching avail. Still. He had his mysterious package, his mother was waiting with her eyes like bits of wall, and Christmas was but one night away...
To Be Continued (probably)
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