You can also read Part 1 and Part 2 of this series.
Aunt Urola’s lavish jeweled necklaces were finally removed from my aunts’ necks. Now, they were all wearing hot blisters and bumpy rashes seared by the poison laced in each string. The red flush of their faces matched their flaring tempers. The men were blistering inside and out after removing the necklaces and placing them in a bag for decontamination. The aroma of the room changed from Christmas tree pine to antiseptic and ointment. The afternoon hors d’oeuvres were antihistamines and whiskey served up with curses to Aunt Urola.
The chaos distracted the entire family as I quietly slipped in and out of the house unnoticed. Until, Mama caught me. “Tasha! Where are you going with all that!”
“Ah, are the women feeling better?” I stopped suddenly in my tracks.
“You heard me, what are you doing?” Mama wasn’t budging.
“I thought the Boys needed a little Christmas cheer, too. It must be gloomy living in those rooms above the garage.” I shifted the weight of the bags in my arms.
“You know we built luxury apartments for those thugs. You stay in here and don’t go near those cutthroat butchers!”
I put everything down on the kitchen table. Mama, half-drunk, ran back into the living room screaming, “Use those coasters, damn it!”
I continued on my way creeping out of the house carrying small bags. A couple of the Boys were proving to be helpful. I quickly targeted the disgruntled ones Papa burned one too many times.
Later that afternoon, I walked quietly into the living room where everyone was getting loud and obnoxious from all the booze. The men were smoking and carousing by the fireplace. The women were making no sense in their conversations. Insults were flying, but they responded with laughter. No one noticed when I took over as bartender. I opened five bottles of their best wine which cost over $1,000 a bottle. I poured each bottle into a carafe, swirling it carefully, adding a little something of my own. I set the bottles on the bar next to each carafe. It was a display of irresistible decadent splendor no greedy mobster could resist.
“Hey Ermil, come see this, he’s finally brought out the good stuff!” My aunts and uncles, Mama and Papa gather around the bar to celebrate one last time.
I smile, leave the bar to the drunken lot, and wait for each person to be seated. As I lean in the archway, I see a wonderful sight. Conversations slur, glasses drop to the floor, heads bob suddenly sideways and forward.
I go upstairs and round up the children from their play time. They come bounding into the living room where the adults are drooped. They pay them no mind.
“Come sit by the fire for a special Christmas poem I wrote just for you!” Their eager faces become quiet as I sit down to begin.
‘Twas the Night Before Christmas in my Mafia Family
‘Twas the night before Christmas
when all through the house,
A foul creature was stirring
and so was a louse.
Tommy guns were hung
by the chimney with care,
In hopes that rogue mobsters
soon would be there.
The children were restless
tossing in bed,
While visions of mob fights
danced in their head.
When out in the snow
there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed
to see what was the matter.
When,
what to my wondering eyes
should appear,
A dead body in the snow,
now frozen. “Oh, Dear!”
Aunt Urola lay stiff
in this murderous scene,
But she’s not the only
cold-blooded ice queen.
The guilty told stories
to explain how she died,
But they didn’t make sense
it was clear that they lied.
Homicidal maniacs
will not get away,
For their trigger-happy fun
in prison they will stay.
I’m afraid that our family
will not shed a tear,
For the terror inflicted
or for the deadly fear.
I’ll take their presents and jewels
to fund my mission,
Just wait and see how much more
they’ll be missin’!
My family is in deep,
So I put them to sleep,
Run! Quick! Without a peep,
To the helicopter, “take a leap!”
Safely we will fly
while they take the fall,
Now dash away, dash away,
dash away all!
The children will now have
a brand new fresh start,
And be given the chance
to grow a kind heart.
‘Tis the end of my story,
hope I gave you a fright.
Merry Christmas to all, and to
all a good night!
Want to know what we watched on the DVD in the helicopter on the way to the airport?
The original poem, Twas the Night Before Christmas, read by Perry Como to a video of lovely book illustrations – charming
Twas The Night Before Christmas
Here are some fun classic family cartoons based on, The Night Before Christmas.
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