“You’re hired,” the manager said. “Go back into the storage room, pick out a costume that fits you, and come back tomorrow at 9:30. We open our doors at 10:00 and the kids will be lined up and clamoring to sit on Santa’s lap.”
Clyde was happy. Thanks to online shopping, many department stores had been shuttered, so there were a lot fewer jobs for Santas than there used to be. It was short term gigs like this, as Santa Clause, the Easter Bunny, George Washington, or Uncle Sam that gave Clyde what he called his “fun funds.”
On Clydes third day as the store Santa, the incident happen. A little girl, maybe seven or eight, walked up to Santa. He gently lifted her up and put her on his lap. “Ho, ho, ho,” Clyde said to her. “Can you tell Santa your name?”
“I’m Cindy,” she said.
“Cindy,” Clyde said, “have you been a nice little girl or a naughty little girl?”
“Both,” she said.
That was an answer Clyde was not expecting. “Both?” he repeated.
“Yes. My daddy says it’s nice when I’m naughty,” at which point Cindy put her hand on Santa’s crotch and started to fondle him.
This sick little tale was written for Roger Shipp’s Flash Fiction for the Purposeful Practitioner. Photo credit: Bruce Mars at Pexels.