FBI Criminal Investigation Specialist Christina Bryson had always been afraid to fly — until tonight.
Cupid quickly stowed his bow over his shoulder and grabbed Christina’s hand. He hoisted her into his arms and spread his wings. And there she was, flying through the night sky in his strong arms. He gazed out into the sky, pointing out all the stars. She gazed at him.
She so hearted him.
“That clear one there is Polaris, obviously. Those there are Betelgeuse and Bellatrix,” he explained. “And over there is Alcyone and Aldebaron,” he muttered matter-o-factly.
Christina could care less what the man was saying. She was flying through the clouds with him. All of this mess, she thought, is so worth this moment. Her heart pitter pattered so violently that she almost forgot about Nick’s predicament.
Cupid reminded her. “We need a plan of action, FBI SCISP Agent Bryson.”
“Oh yea?” she loved hearing him say her businessy name. Her mouth hung open; consequently, her lips were getting chapped from all the cold night air combined with the open mouth swooning.
“Yes,” he began, and then a look of absolute terror overtook his adorable face.
“Why are you pouting?” Christina whined. She wanted him to gaze into her eyes, “Look at me, Cupid. What’s the matter?” She followed his line of vision and her face took on the same look of terror.
Not half a mile off in the sky, were the flying monkey minions. Not only were they fast approaching, but they were each wearing ruby red slippers. Really, they should rethink their wardrobe, Christina thought to herself. Then she realized they were flying straight for them! Cupid panicked and tried for an emergency landing. They zigged and zagged toward the ocean and landed with lavish amounts of loudness into a small boat that happened upon the end of their path.
Captaining the boat was none other than St. Patrick.
“Hello there,” Captain Patrick hollered with a thick Irish accent impossible to translate onto paper especially because it was being bellowed between swigs of whiskey.
Cupid smiled and said, “Thank God. Patty, I’m so glad you’re here. Are you on your way?”
Christina plucked herself from the floor of the boat and waltzed right over to St. Patty.
“Who the hell are you?!” she yelled ripping the whiskey from his hand and taking a big swill.
Patty looked at Cupid and smiled, “I like this one.”
Just then the boat shuddered hard as they hit land. Christina, irritated that the monkeys and a very large, boisterous and drunk Holiday Guy had interrupted her date, carried the flask and herself onto solid ground. Cupid and St. Patty followed.
Up the hill and around the hedge line they crept. Becoming more and more depressed about the loss of imagination, the loss of Santa Claus, the potential loss of Christmas, Christina sipped from the flask which never seemed to get any less full.
“It never goes empty, dear,” Patty explained. I love magic, she thought.
They reached the trough of the hill, and spotted the clan. To the right and down the valley stood a small ranch style home surrounded by a lake, old oak trees and many ducks. Amid the ducks and trees sat their friends, who seemed to be frozen solid.
They crept closer. Mr. T sat petrified with his biceps flexed. Hubert was fixed in a crouched position as if ready to spring into a full hop. And Abe lay on the ground like a rock with one nunchuck in hand; the second must have been lost in the scurry.
“The monkeys must be around here somewhere,” Christina whispered.
They stepped lightly toward the house. Slowly, the three of them peered into the front window. Inside stood Mother Nature, who seemed to be finishing a lecture to the monkeys. They exited the room through the chimney. The trio quickly huddled beneath the bushes as the monkeys flew away deep into the night sky. They repositioned themselves at the window.
“Where is Nick?” pondered Cupid aloud.
“There,” replied Patty.
Nick was bound with Christmas ribbon to a plush red velveteen chair in the corner.
Mother Nature walked to him with cookies and milk. Patty had had enough. He sprang up from beneath the window and in one quick motion grabbed the flask from Christina and entered the house through the front door. Cupid and Christina, alarmed and nervous, stayed put and watched the scene unfold.
Mother Nature screamed, dropping the milk and cookies all over the floor. The plate shattered into a bazillion pieces. Nick frowned. Patty just laughed, “You don’t need those anyway, Nicky. There’s more of that in your future. Why, hello my dear, Mother. Care for a night cap?”
“Patty, it’s been a while.” Mother Nature was blushing. Patty wrapped his arms around Mother Nature, who giggled.
Soon, she was swigging away at Patty’s flask.
Cupid smiled. Christina sat in confusion. What a slut! I thought she wanted Nick! "What’s going on?” Christina questioned.
“Shhh! They used to have a thing,” explained Cupid, “Patty knows what he’s doing. That woman can’t ever hold her liquor. Let’s awaken the others.”
They slunk quietly into the yard.