Martoons

Cast of characters

Miss No

Mr E

Donna

Fred

‘Santa’ (Dame)

*

Now this washroom thing was annoying the hell out of No.

The increasing number of beachgoers presently going in and out of its entrance was stirring up a wicked flashback of last night – specifically, that gaudy, hobbling old guy with the Santa Claus beard …  

“Come with me!” she ordered Donna and Mr E. “We have to leave now!”

“Where are you going?” E protested. He was just about to light up another smoke but No’s abruptness had caused him to fumble it into the sand.

“That washroom,” she said uneasily, “the men’s washroom… Oh whatever, just come with me!”

She tried to trot toward the restroom building but her pointy, healed boots sunk into the sand.

The only way to traverse it was to tread lightly, just like tip-toeing carefully over thin ice.

After a minute of skilful negotiation and finally nearing the men’s entrance, she slowed momentarily and shook her head ashamedly.

“What’s with you and men’s washrooms?” Donna called out from behind, mixing in a chuckle.

No was too embarrassed to say it, but it was her healthy paranoia again. Something was telling her that Santa was near and it was worrying her.

And controlling her.

And she hated it. It wasn’t her real self.

She swore this would be the last time she’d let anyone control her.

* Will it be? *

“I was hoping we were done with this whole thing,” she said, “but watch out for a guy with a white beard!”

“You saw him?” Donna queried with a sense of wonder and excitement as if a UFO or Bigfoot sighting had taken place.

They were now only a few steps from the restroom. “Mr E can you go in and check?”

She turned expecting him to be there but he was about ten steps back trying to light his cigarette, however the wind kept blowing out his lighter.

“Ayeesh!” No barked and shook her head. “Mr E! Pali!”

*

Fred was standing just inside the men’s entrance, having stepped back slightly to shield himself from the brisk breeze.

It reminded him of the ball-biting cold back home, but even this was more severe.

Home was a dry cold; this was a damp, heavy freeze – like being in some kind of reverse sauna.

A regular stream of beachgoers was filing in and out from the washroom, oblivious to the wavering waygook waiting by the entranceway.

Yet a few were gawking inside at the grizzled, bearded old grandfather who’d just emerged from the taped-off stall.

* Dame?!… *

“Okay, step aside folks,” Santa commanded to the other patrons, hustling them out of the way with an arm gesture.

“Freddy, stand straight right there and don’t move,” and Santa pointed to a spot about two feet in front of himself.

He suddenly stepped toward Fred, bent down and leaned into him. Fred gasped as the old guy’s shoulder instantly pressed into his abdomen.

Before Fred could comprehend what was going on, he was slung over the old man’s shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

“Time to blow this pop stand Freddy,” the old man grunted, burdened by Fred’s body mass. “Arrrgh! You’re heavy!”

Fred was breathless and speechless – his body completely folded in half at the abdomen.

* Does Fred realize that this is actually Dame? *

Waiting in anticipation right outside the entrance, Miss No recoiled in horror.

She didn’t know what to make of the twisted-up human tangle coming out the door but already recognized who it was…

This was the absolute worst possible scenario she could imagine.

And it was unfolding in front of her.

Now.

* What will she do?! *

*

Tomorrow: The Santa chase is on!