Forever After

7



They met back at Naff’s house. On the journey home Michael didn’t stop smiling and he didn’t mind Naff noticing, nor did he mind the smart-arsed comments that filled up their journey for its entirety. He felt good, certainly a lot better than when they had started on their quest. The alcohol had helped, despite being a few days away from Christmas Eve the final house had left out a bottle of port and a couple of glasses on the dining room table, the thirsty friends agreed it had probably been left for them and wasted no time in drinking it; snacking on a few mince pies from the kitchen and tempting candy canes from the tree.

They arrived back just as Chip and Sampson were entering the street. They were equally joyous. Sampson walked tall and proud, the look of dismay stripped form his face and filled with one of pride and happiness. Chip was equally happy; he knew there was nothing separating him from spending the next few days with his wank machine.

Naff poured the drinks and shared out some slices of suspicious looking ginger cake. He was proud of his work, happy to do a good deed for the people of the town and for the demon he had been hired to look after. He was always happy when his work had been completed sufficiently and expertly.

Whilst Naff, Michael and Sampson drank and shared in the revelry of the season, swapping jokes and stories, Chip sat hunched up in the corner with a broad smile on his ugly face as the computer screen flashed a fleshy light onto his glossy features.

“So,” Naff, having drained his drink following a toast, put down the glass and rubbed his hands. “Same again next year?”

Michael glared at him, his mouth full of brandy. He swallowed and snapped open his lips to scratch back a heated reply but Naff halted him with a raised palm. “I was kidding, for f*ck’s sake.”

Michael managed a restrained smile.

Naff turned to Sampson, “Are you ready to go then? It’s time.”

The demon nodded contently. He finished his drink and put down the glass without letting an inch of that contentedness slip from his chubby, reddened face.

He moved to Michael and offered him a hand. “Thank you,” he said. “I’ll never forget what you and your friends have done for me.”

Michael nodded back, keeping his distance in case the big man decided to go in for the hug. “Even if we did send you to hell?”

Sampson shrugged apathetically, “You were just doing your job.”

“Fair enough.”

“You’ve made many children happy tonight,” he said, turning to Naff. He shook his hand firmly, clasping it in both of his colossal palms. “You’re a good man.”

Naff tried to look modest but his pride burst through in a red bubble.

He moved to Chip and stood over him, his ominous shape casting a shadow over the little man hunched up on the couch. Chip looked up after several moments and seemed surprise to see the wannabe Santa Claus standing there.

“Hello,” he said meekly.

“I’m going,” Sampson stated.

“Oh,” that was all Chip was prepared to say before he returned his attention to his porn, but a forewarning look from Michael and Naff forced him to do otherwise. He groaned like a reluctant child and rose to his feet.

“Good bye,” he offered. “Have fun, keep safe an’ all that.”

Santa grinned wryly and turned to move, Chip, in one final moment of curiosity, stopped him.

“Do you still think you’re Santa then?” the little man wondered. “I mean, after all this. And now that you’re going back to hell, you must realise that you’re a demon. You can’t really still believe you’re him, can you?”

“Maybe...” Santa began, looking at Chip, “Maybe the real Santa is a demon. Maybe the reason no one believes in him anymore is because he was resigned to the bowels of hell, away from his beloved children and his true home. Maybe the real Santa just found a way to escape those clutches and to get back to his rightful position as the bringer of joy and mirth to the world. I mean...” he paused, beamed a mystical smile, “no human could possibly do what Santa has to do, could they? He would have to be a demon or something, wouldn’t he?”

Chip’s mouth dropped open like the hinges of his jaw had snapped. He glared at the fat man in front of him. He watched him disappear, fading into nothingness right in front of him, then he turned his awed-expression towards his friends.

“It really was him!” Chip declared loudly.

A brief second passed before Michael burst into a fit of hysterics. Chip shot him a look of bemusement before turning to Naff who was shaking his head in mild disbelief.

Naff said, “You truly are a f*cking numpty aren’t you?”