THE FOUR CANDLES - A Christmas Anthology by Wangew_Wick, The Fourth Candle: Charlie at Christmas


A Christmas Anthology by Wangew_Wick

The Fourth Candle: Charlie at Christmas

Charlie loved Christmas very much—his favorite time of year!

His owners always filled the house with loads of yuletide cheer.

He loved the tree. He loved the food. He really loved the lights.

He loved to open presents (maybe one on Christmas night).

But Charlie loved his mischief, too, as much as any fluff.

And without fail he managed to get into lots of stuff.

One day, the “gweenies” on the tree enticed him for a bite,

But all the tinsel mixed in? Well, it didn’t come out right.

Did indigestion stop him from his misbehavior? No.

He filled the neighbor’s doorstep up with shit and yellow snow.

Mummah apologized profusely for her stupid pet,

Then sorry-sticked his lousy ass and issued pointed threats.

But Charlie wasn’t trying to be bratty or be mean.

Most times he was the sweetest pony you’d have ever seen.

He knew not to chew cords and heeded daddeh’s warnings there.

“Da not-sketties nu am fow fwuffies,” Charlie said with care.

But fruitcake was another tale. He wolfed down a large chunk

then followed it with rum cake, from which he got really drunk.

Mummah had left them by the door to answer her cell phone

And by the time she came back in, she heard her Charlie moan.

“Chawwie haf tummie huwties!” Then he vomited and slumped.

Then it was off to Dr. B to have his stomach pumped.

“He’s gonna kill himself if he keeps eating all this trash.

You need something to teach him that this isn’t his food stash.”

Then daddeh brought home “Elfie,” who was on sale at Big Lots.

(“Elf on the Shelf,” for those of you without half-witted tots.)

Charlie politely welcomed Elfie to his cozy house,

But from the start, the creature made him nervous as a mouse.

The elf followed his every move with both its cold, dead eyes.

But it kept Charlie out of all the candy and the pies.

He snagged a gingerbread man once, but then promptly confessed.

Mummah and daddeh both agreed that Elfie was the best.

But everything came crashing down that year on Christmas Eve.

Just when Charlie’s ideal behavior seemed to be achieved.

Mummah and daddeh went to church at 5pm that night,

while Charlie napped next to the tree, beneath the Christmas lights.

The neighborhood teenagers all played football right next door,

and then the football hit the house when Charlie was mid-snore.

“Santa? Am yu hewe?” The cheerful earthie fluffy said,

Then Elfie wobbled off the shelf and landed on his head.

Charlie let out a “SCREEEE!” and started running down the hall,

knocking the tree off of its stand and soiling all the walls.

He couldn’t see which way he ran with Elfie on his face,

so that’s how he got his legs stuck inside the fireplace.

He bumped the valve on his way in and turned the gas up high.

From then, his fate was sealed: it was now time for him to die.

The elf just grinned his evil grin as Charlie streamed out tears.

“Nu wan huwties, Ewfie!” he cried out and begged in fear.

But Elfie didn’t listen—in fact he seemed to enjoy

All the suffering that he heaped on the poor biotoy.

“Ewfie, pwease sabe Chawwie! Nu wan pway dis huwties game!”

Then, at that very moment all his fluff burst into flames.

He screamed as Elfie’s plastic body melted into him

And screamed some more as tongues of flame tormented all his limbs.

Then as the monster grinned at him, and as the fire roared,

All he could say was “Chawwie nu wike Chwistmas anymowe.”