Tuesday, December 21, 2010

The Jeremy Crow Christmas Countdown 2010 #4


I grew up hearing the tales of a far off land, where mountains of mismatched socks, and huge piles of lost remote controls. I had heard once or twice that I had been involved in a great quest to rescue Santa Claus from this very location, way down south. Way WAY down south, where the Superdaddyman had always believed that the evil penguins live. Now mind you, I may be young, but I don't buy into all that hype about how those cute little penguins in the Linux promos can be as evil as I hear, and quite frankly I was just a little too young to remember, or even buy that whole story about the “Battle to Save Christmas” so I just smile and let my dad {who I know is the Superdaddyman, but it's better to let him have the fantasy and act cute} sell his stories to the public.

While on that tale, let me say, that despite all the talk of how the Superdaddyman is my arch-nemesis, nothing could be further from the truth. I mean puh-leze I am just a ten year old girl, despite my evil genius, so like most things I just want to hug him and squeeze him and love him and hold him and name him George! Wouldn't you? Of course it is a quiet day here at the Casa-Di-Evils's and that alone makes me extra loveable, in a “wish I had someone to pester” sort of way. I think at the very least nobody in their right mind {oh look who I'm talking about and that statement seems kinda silly} would leave a ten year old girl with the ability to get away with anything, alone. Of course it's not like I am that idiot Captain ADHD {want to hug him and squeeze him and love him and hold him and name him George!} who you can't trust to NOT build some super secret and dangerous spy equipment on the roof to try and extort a Meeeeeeellliiiiioooooonnnn dollars from the world, the second you leave him alone, but I can hold my own! This is definitely odd indeed.

Now back to my second favorite subject {next to everyone else's business} which would be ME! You see I happen to be concerned about Christmas this year. After sending my three hundred page annotated list of demands to Santa Claus I had remembered a few things that I had forgotten. Don't you hate it when that happens? I was just about to sit down to deal with this oversight, and perhaps add a few hundred more things that were at best trivial, but all the same very important to me. The little things like bracelets {and NOT those stupid Disney Princess ones .. UGH} socks, and a jacket that doesn't make me feel like a snow ball. I give these people an A for effort, but they are woefully inept when it comes to outfitting evil genius such as mine! Um .. in a cute sort of way, of course.

That was when the idea hit me! POPCORN! Everything is better when you are eating popcorn! Off I went to the cupboard leaving the unfinished secret communique between myself and Santa, to find to my great horror, that there was no Orville Redenbaucher happiness in a bag! Now we have a problem that the lack of adult supervision finally revealed a glaring hole in my life! Who in the name of God am I supposed to walk around behind nagging .. um .. encouraging to get me more microwave popcorn! I should have seen the obvious lack of father and siblings as the true horror that it was, instead of waking up and jumping up and down on everything like I had. Hey! I'm only ten here, make up your own unsupervised nirvana ok? This was when I heard the noise coming from that place I hear stories of called “The Superdaddycave,” and realized that there was an opportunity to be nosey.

Using that super speed I was born with {yet refuse to use in front of anyone in fear that they might expect me to use it to do something} I was in the control center of the Superdaddycave and staring at the most curious red phone, in the center of the desk ringing. Funny how I had never noticed it there before? Something about that red phone and it's lack of buttons, kinda made me thing that it had “hands off” written all over it, so I picked it up and answered it. Hello? I'm ten and a girl remember?

I didn't even say anything yet when this strange hum came over the phone, so I was a bit intimidated by it up until a voice finally came out of the hum, “Hello, Superdaddyman, this is the Obama,” I didn't even have time to point out that I wasn't the Superdaddyman before he continued in the same actor-ish manner like he was reading from a script and didn't want to be interrupted. Oh is he in for it if he doesn't like interruptions, “You see we have a crisis that is of the utmost national interest,” I again tried to throw in that I wasn't the Superdaddyman but again he just talked right over me. I've heard about people like this, “Let me be clear. It appears that the penguins are back at it again and they have kidnapped the Superdaddyman, Lazius Boycrazius, and Captain ADHD, and even though you are kidnapped I will need you to go strait down to the South pole and rescue them,” and what the heck do you say to such an idiotic statement? Nothing of course because he didn't give me a chance, “I have called in a few favors and procured a couple of our operatives, who you have worked well with in the past to swing by and pick you up, so that you can go and rescue yourself from the penguins and hopefully get back in time for Christmas. This is of the utmost importance because I hear the holidays can be rather busy for not only yourself but the operative I have picked for this mission,” I wasn't even able to get out that I wasn't the Superdaddyman, or how if I was I could rescue myself when he finished up his talk, “They will be there to pick you up as soon as possible, and America thanks you for your service.”

When the humming stopped I finally said “But I'm not the Superdaddyman,” and knew it wasn't heard by the abrupt hang up that followed it. I took this opportunity to raise the level of irony by talking to myself out loud. Of course some would say that I don't need to have irony to talk to myself, but they are lying and wouldn't know cute if it fell out of the sky and crushed them, “So the Superdaddyman was telling the truth about the penguins down at the south pole,” I thought for a minute on that statement and then audibly uttered, “Maybe I shouldn't go down there and save him because then I would have to admit it!”

That was silly after all because even at my age I understand that a call from the president means that you have to respect the office. Lord only knows what I am supposed to do to save my idiot father and my idiot siblings {who I want to hug and squeeze and love and hold and name them George and Georgette!} but maybe whoever it is coming to pick me up will have some ideas. I just hope they have a boat because my teacher explained the south pole to me and you can't get there in the Superdaddymobile, that's for sure. I thought to myself that I better get ready {without popcorn!} and wait by the front door.

Bundled up warm in one of those stupid jackets that makes me feel like a gigantic mushroom, I waited for several minutes {you know .. forever!} wondering when whoever would be getting here. Snow was lightly falling but not accumulating very much on the lawn. This of course was the time I heard faint bells that appeared to be growing louder and louder and louder, until I heard a spilt second before I saw the great thud on the yard. This great thud came from eight enormous reindeer pulling a big sleigh with a larger than life fat guy in a red suit. The krinkled eyes from behind all that beard looked at me through the window in the door and with that he started waving me out to join him. The only thing I could think of was that all those Santa Claus' laps I had sat on all these years were nothing compared to the representation of this seven foot tall giant all dressed in red and in his own way looking kinda bad ass, and the gigundous reindeer standing at the front of the sleigh with the red nose and all the tattoos. Yeah I think we can kick some penguin butt … To be continued