Follow Your Nose

"You want us to take down Santa Claus, don't you? How did I know that? I must be a smegging genius." Yeldarb replies looking at the Machine Gun wielding Santa Claus.

Yeldarb looks to the group,

"Ok, so which one of you brave and wonderful people want to go take down the manically insane, machine gun wielding, Santa Claus?"

Gerbil sighed, turning away from the door and looking back up at the metallic gimboid with the dangerous weapon. "It's me, isn't it? I get to go because I'm the hologram?" He nodded, "right then. If that's what you want. I guess safety is my job after all." He looked over the door and paused.

After a moment's contemplation, he asked "You sure Jack here doesn't mean we should use someone's face for a doorknob? Or someone's nose for a key?" But he was already walking away, flashing light sparkling off his glittery jacket, glove, and socks. The oddly colored contacts made it hard to distinguish things, so the hard-light hologram continually bumped into people and had to excuse himself loudly over the roaring crowd.

Finally, he made it to the wall and glanced over the many cables and dangling chains and other merrily-lit torture-themed devices. Gerbil glanced back at the others then up at Claws and back at the devices and cables. Finally, he made a decision and began trying to climb his way up several cables headed in the same direction. It certainly wasn't easy.

Before the safety officer could even get a quarter way up, Sandy Claws screamed out "Naughty naughty!" And aimed the machine gun at Gerbil. He "ho ho ho'd" as he fired the gun . . . sending great burnt globs of gingerbread dough raining down on the defenseless officer.

Gerbil screamed as the burning, greasy missiles peppered him, the cables, and the wall. The crowd roared with laughter and encouragement - - for Sandy Claws! The maniacal mechanoid "ho ho ho'd" again and began another spray of fiery hot dough over the hapless hologram, who hung on despite the burning blobs and sticky, greasy mess.

"Do something! He's actually hitting me, a hologram! And it bloody-well hurts like smeg!"

Jack giggled inanely at the chaos when suddenly the Santa let out a large foul-smelling fart and several lumps of flaming coal began to rain down on the partiers.

<<Fiery coal farts, no door knob, and burnt cookie dough injuring Joribel, who's trying to climb cables too apparently reach the dangling Santa . . . can anyone help? What more can happen?>>

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