Frank Pucket was a man with a problem. After leaving for work he’d doubled back home because he’d forgotten his chestnuts. But turning onto his street he saw a van emblazoned “Dunder Electrical” already parked in the drive.
Frank pulled over in time to see Dunder himself, antlers and all, chilling on the porch chatting with his wife, Helena. That bastard reindeer had been hovering around his wife as long as he could remember. Frank couldn’t hear what they were saying but could tell that Helena’s eyes were all aglow.
Dunder was dressed like always. Work boots, green trousers, green shirt. From his car Frank could see the oval-shaped shirt patch with white background and red trim that read, “Dunder.” What the hell was he doing with a bottle of Jamaican rum in his hooves at this early hour? Frank watched helplessly as they got out of the weather frightful and dashed inside where it was so delightful.
He crept closer and wiped away the frost from the window pane, peering inside. Several shots of rum were already snorted and Dunder was on his knees feeling all around her Christmas tree. He was plugging and unplugging the Christmas lights from their socket, over and over, but they just wouldn’t turn on.
Then, with a deftness Frank couldn’t believe, Dunder replaced a single bulb on the strand and Mrs. Puckett shouted as the room was washed in brilliant colors and Christmas came early.
This post is part of Blogdramedy’s 2012 BlogFestivus challenge where festivants are cajoled and harassed into writing nine stories in nine days about nine reindeers. Each story has to be exactly 243 words in length. Happy Festivus to all!