You Don’t Have To Come Home For Christmas But It Might Be Your Last Chance To See Grandma, Says Mother Sharpening Axe
By: Katie Pecho
SUBURBS– Local guilt-tripper Barb Holloway laid it on thick Tuesday evening while FaceTiming with her daughter Sarah, who lives “across the planet” from Holloway in nearby Minneapolis.
“Oh, of course, I totally understand why you wouldn’t want to come home for Christmas,” Holloway said with a forced, almost unhinged smile. “You’ve been very vocal about your feelings about the pandemic, so trust me, I get it. I’m just afraid this might be the last time you’ll get to see Grandma. Though, apparently, you don’t care.”
Sources report that an axe came suddenly into view on the video call as Holloway stared unblinkingly into the camera.
“I can definitely see how you would feel ‘unsafe’ travelling right now, given that you have your own car and everything,” Holloway said, her icy voice almost drowned out beneath the high-pitched screech of the whetstone that had appeared on the counter next to the KitchenAid. “I know how much you like to say it’s about our activities and not the travel itself, but you never had a problem with our Competitive Apple Bobbing before the pandemic, I’d just like to remind you.”
Holloway held the razor-sharp axe in front of her face, twisting it back and forth to watch the deadly weapon glint in the light. She slid her finger along the blade to test its sharpness, causing a thin trickle of blood to dribble down her wrist, which she held menacingly to the camera.
“But if you insist on abandoning the family, especially your grandmother– whose time, may I remind you, is almost up–,” Holloway said, licking the blood from her wrist and then smearing it across her temples.“Well, you’ll do what you have to do. And so will I,” Holloway said, heaving a crossbow onto the kitchen table which caused an animatronic Santa figurine to begin singing.
“It’s a real shame, despite all the work your father and I put into raising you, that you turned out to be so selfish,” she added, before blowing a poison dart into the dancing Santa’s jugular.
“Oh, you better watch out, you better nooooot cryyyyy…” whined Santa before slumping over, poison bubbling in his glitter beard.
“But if you do decide to do the right thing and come home for Christmas,” Holloway said, placing a festive wreath around the neck of an iron maiden, “make sure you text your dad when you’re close so he can move the trebuchet out of the driveway.”
“It’s totally up to you, though, and we’ll respect your decision either way. But just remember…” she said, pointing a loaded musket offscreen, a muffled whimper heard just out of sight.
“Grandma is counting on you.”
