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Mike Reyes, aka Mr. Controversy, has considered himself a writer ever since he was a child. He wrote for various school publications from about 1995 until 2006, and currently runs both The Bookish Kind and Mr. Controversy, which is an offshoot of the regular column he wrote in High School. He's also authored several short stories such as "The Devil's Comedian", "The Devil v. George W. Bush", and most recently "Wait Until Tomorrow". He resides in New Jersey. Any inquiries for reprinting, writing services, or general contact, should be forwarded to: michaelreyes72@hotmail.com

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Wednesday, December 24, 2008

The Holiday Survival Guide: Part VIII - Emergency Plans for Outlandishly Impossible Scenarios


I've been inspired to create yet another project. Whether it will be included in a book with "The Devil v. George W. Bush", or given its own book to roam free within, depends on how far I develope it. For now, here's your Christmas/Holiday present dear readers. Happy Holidays to you all, and see you next week!

The following scenarios are fully detailed, and presented in the order of increasing severity. Read closely, these might just save your life:

- “If the turkey burns…”
You’re just going to have to get another one. Run to the local supermarket and get one. But wait…parking’s a disaster. Shit, well then just park out in the outer reaches of the parking lot. It’s ok, desperate times and all that. Ouch! You just fell flat on your ass in the ice. It’s ok, just walk it off. A little pain motivates, so a lot of pain should make you focused as a blade. Wait?! Did that little old just scratch your paint with the door to her Hummer?! What the fuck is that little old biddy doing driving a Hum…you know what, just keep walking. Ok, you’re in the store…DAMN! It looks like there’s no more turkeys left. God-damn it to hell! Wait, there’s one…last…turkey. It is yours, claim it! Quick, before that Soccer Mom who’s been eyeing it intently gets to it. She’s picking up speed. She’s going to get there before you. Wait, what that over there?! SOCK! Sorry…that shopping cart came out of nowhere. You should have been watching where you were going, Soccer Mom/lady/ma’am/bitch! Finally, that turkey is yours! Oh, but wait…you have hardly any money left from buying everyone presents. (It’s not your fault the little brats wanted Bratz dolls, and somehow in the holiday spirit you decided to buy one for them. Though it is unfair, because it’s not like they spared the horses on your kids gifts. I mean they got them mitten socks, for Christ’s sake. MITTEN SOCKS! Meanwhile there little girl is tarting it up with her “Bratz Whorz” doll, and pretending to meet a Japanese businessman from out of town. AND YOUR KIDS GET GODDAMN MITTEN SOCKS?! Where’s the justice in THAT?!) It’s ok, the turkey’s free because you bought over $1000 worth of food already. You would have gotten six free turkeys actually, but you were in such a rush that you missed the fresh batch of turkeys they JUST PUT OUT! The Soccer Cunt is laughing at you, laughing like a villain. Grab the turkey and get the Hell out of there. Mind the ice…yeah, that old bitch scratched up your car with her door. Proceed to slash her front, right tire and piss on the gaping hole.

- “If the turkey burns the dog…” What was the dog doing in the oven in the first place?! Launch a full inquiry into the matter, coming to the final conclusion that your uncle placed him in there to keep him quiet about the affair he was having with a local cheerleader. (The dog saw everything, and he wasn’t going to chance that the pooch might squeal. So it was time for Fido to sleep with an electric blanket in the roasthouse.) Proceed to chase your uncle down the darkened alley next to the house, and bring him to justice.

- “If the turkey is poisioned with cyanide…” There’s always fruitcake. If you like that sort of thing.

- “If the fruitcake is poisoned with cyanide…” No one likes fruitcake anyway, order take out.

- “If your overly religious cousin/sister/aunt/best friend/cat decides to lecture everyone on the importance of the season, with their usual holier than thou attitude…” Ask them why the Hell they didn’t offer to do Christmas at their place, seeing as the “spirit of Christ” is so fucking powerful with them. Throw a glass against the wall, offer them some turkey with a side of fruitcake, and a grin that’ll confuse the authorities as they cart you away to the Morningvale Sanitarium. Or at the very least, it’ll cause her to leave before she even tastes the turkey or fruitcake. If the latter case presents itself, don’t forget to follow up with a phone call, preferably with 30 seconds of heavy breathing, before shouting “MERRRRRY CHRISTMASSS!?!” in your most insane/menacing voice.

- “If a Cloverfield monster should interrupt the fun…” Look and see if Santa Claus is riding it. If he is, then you’re probably tripping from the “mushrooms” your nephew saw fit to cook the turkey with, “just to loosen everyone up”. Just sit, breathe deeply, and the feeling should pass. However, if there is an actual Cloverfield monster…HOLY FUCK, RUN! Or if running is not an option, prepare the rocket launcher your parents/in-laws bought and saved because, “The day the Russkies come to town, I’m not going to get caught with MY pants down.”

- “If my parents actually make it through the holidays genuinely smiling at each other, and NOT getting into a tempestuous debacle over who named the dog…” Again, make sure that smartass nephew of yours didn’t sneak some shrooms into the family dinner. If it’s not a drug induced trip, you can do either one of two things:
o A.) Enjoy the peace and love your parents are exuding. (Though, this also might be indicative of shrooms.)
o B.) Mention the fact that your mother is a drama queen, and your father is a fascist. Get the old folks going good and firey, and sit back with your girlfriend/fiancĂ©e and a bowl of popcorn. You just bought yourself some time (until New Year’s Day, tops) before having to tell them she’s pregnant/you’re engaged/she’s not really a she.

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