A curated Christmas story for the OT - A Christmas Eve Surprise

It was Christmas Eve in Boston, and middle aged fat guy Mikey Donahue was absolutely convinced disaster was seconds away.

He was sitting on the couch when his stomach made a noise like a Dunkin Donuts trash can getting dragged down the alley.

“Oh no,” Mikey whispered. “This is it. This is how I go.”

He popped up like the couch was on fire and waddle-ran down the hall, one hand on the wall, the other holding on to hope. Every step was a negotiation with God.

“C’mon, kid,” he muttered to himself. “Not like this. I’m a good guy. I tip.”

He burst into the bathroom, slammed the door, whipped around, and hit the toilet just in time. Heart pounding. Forehead sweaty. Whole life flashing before his eyes.

He waited.

Nothing.

Then—
BRRRRAAAP.

Mikey froze.

Another one followed. Longer. Angrier. Echoed off the tiles like Fenway in October.

“Aw you kiddin’ me?” he said out loud.

The floodgates opened. Fart after fart after fart. Different pitches. Different personalities. One sounded wet but wasn’t. One had confidence. One had attitude.

He leaned back, relieved, offended, and a little impressed.

“All that dwama,” he sighed, “fo a bunch a fawts.”

From the hallway his wife yelled, “You okay in there?!”

“Yeah!” Mikey called back. “False alawm!”

He sat there a minute longer, just in case—because he wasn’t born yesterday—then stood up, lighter in body and spirit.

As he walked back to the couch he shook his head. He stopped momentarily by the window to make sure his Christmas lights were in fact still on. They were.

The end.