Serge fished through the cabinet under the sink. “Here’s some air freshener.”
He tossed it to Coleman, who sprayed liberally and set the can on the counter. “What do you think?”
“Smells like you threw up a bowl of potpourri.”
“Did you hear something?” asked Coleman.
“Like what?”
“Yelling.”
“Must be the TV.” They left the bathroom and headed down the hall.
“There’s the yelling again,” said Coleman.
“Now that you mention it,” said Serge. “I don’t remember yelling in the Grinch special.”
They came around the corner. The jingle bells gave them away. Curled felt feet slid to a stop on the hardwood floor. Two men aiming guns at them.
The security guard went ballistic with recognition. “You! You’re the elves who attacked me in the restroom!”
“Wasn’t us,” said Serge. “Must have been those bad elves from the cheatin’ side of town.”
“Shut up!” Then a malicious smile. “The gang’s all here. I get to take everyone out!”
“Hey,” said the ex-manager. “I get some, too.”
“Okay, we’ll split,” said the guard. “Plenty to go around.” Then turning with rage again: “But the elves are mine!.. Any last words before I blow your brains out?”
“Yes,” said Serge. “I’d like to filibuster… The letter A is a vowel and the first in our alphabet derived from alpha in the Greek-”
“No filibuster!”
“The cloture rule isn’t in effect,” said Serge.
“Yes, it is!”
“I never heard a motion from the floor,” said Serge. “Plus, you need a super-majority, and I’m pretty sure I’ve got the votes-”
“Shut up!”
“Parliamentary pussy.”
“That’s it! You die!” The guard stretched out his shooting arm.
From somewhere else: “Now!”
“What the-”
The ex-guard went down first. Then the former mall manager.
Horrible screaming. The two assailants desperately clawed the floor in an attempt to drag themselves to safety.
Four tiny elves swarmed like piranhas. Edith bit an ear, Edna an ankle. Ethel clubbed with the Yule log. Eunice pulled an ornament off the tree and stabbed.
The guard pulled a candy-cane shiv out of his neck. “We give up! Just get ’em off us!..”
Serge collected the dropped guns. “Okay, girls, you can get up now
… Girls?… Girls!” He looked at Jim and Coleman. “I need a hand. They’re in a frenzy. And keep your limbs away from their mouths.”
The G-Unit was pulled off the home invaders, kicking and frothing.
“Nice work, gals,” said Serge. “Now dial it down.”
The quartet headed for the eggnog. “ That’s what I call fun!” said Edith.
Serge returned his attention to the two bleeding men. “What do you know? The home team rallies again.” He handed Jim one of the guns, and motioned with the other toward the front door. “Might want to start drafting your own last words.”
“Serge! No!” said Jim. “Don’t do it!”
“Do what?” asked Serge. “We’re just going to go out for some laughs…” He poked the gun barrel in their ribs. “… Right, fellas?”
“I can’t let you do this!” said Jim.
“I’m impressed,” said Serge. “You’re actually confronting me. But they were after your family, and in your house.”
“That’s right,” said Jim. “My family, my house, my rules… Besides, it’s Christmas Eve. Look in your heart.”
“I am,” said Serge. “And I see your family’s well-being. If I don’t take care of this and let you turn them over to the police, they’ll eventually forget we showed them mercy. Then they get out of prison, where they’ve had time to do nothing but build a grudge. Some people tend to fixate.”
“I have another idea,” said Jim. “And you always claimed you wanted to be like me.”
TV: “… Just then the Grinch’s heart grew three times its normal size…”
“True, true,” said Serge. “Keep talking.”
“They’re angry at me because I fired them,” said Jim. “But there’s another part of my job because of the whole crazy, up-down stock market that dictates bad business decisions.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Let me get my briefcase.” Jim ran out of the room.
Serge smiled and shrugged at his prisoners.
Jim returned and opened the attache case on a coffee table. “They gave me some work I’m supposed to hit after the holidays, but now’s as good a time…” He pulled out a file folder. “… This is from my firm’s contract with the mall. Seems they’re a little short in the assistant manager position. And because of recent assaults in the restroom and manager’s office, they’re seeking someone with experience in the security industry.” He looked up at the former guard. “What do you say?”
“Me? Assistant mall manager?” He lunged and hugged Jim. “Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!..”
“Put me down now.”
“Okay,” said the guard. “You won’t regret this.”
“But what about me?” said the ex-manager.
“I’m getting to that,” said Jim. He pulled out another file. “Because of those same assaults I just mentioned, the mall wants to beef up security. However, because of the anger management problems of recent hires, which resulted in unprofessional behavior toward customers, they’re interested in at least some managerial experience
… Want it?”
“Me? Mall cop?”
Jim nodded and braced himself for a hug that never came.
“Why not?” said the ex-manager. “I need the work, so sure, I’ll take it.”
The new assistant mall manager looked down and laughed at the new mall cop. “Imagine that! The guy who fired me, and now I’m his supervisor. Well, guess what? You’re fired!”
“Hey!” the bald man said to Jim. “He can’t do that, can he?”
“Yes, he can,” said Jim, picking up a folder again. “But then that leaves me with a new opening. So you’re hired.”
“You’re fired,” said the new assistant manager.
“You’re hired,” said Jim.
“You’re fire-”
Serge jumped in the middle. “Guys, guys! We can do this all night long… Now, are you two going to play nice together at the mall? Or do we have to go for a little ride?” Another gesture with the gun. “I’ve got plenty of room in the trunk.”
The two new mall hires glanced at each other, then at Serge. “We’ll get along.”
“Great to hear it!.. And, Jim, I’m even more in awe. You’ve taught me so much.”
“I need to thank you, too,” said Jim.
“Me, too,” said Martha. She gave him a hug and peck on the cheek good-bye.
“G-Unit? City and Country?” said Serge. “Let’s not wear out our welcome.”
The women stood and tossed back the remains of their eggnog, then filed out the door.
“And, Jim,” said Serge. “Better give me that other gun. You’re not a firearms expert like me and don’t know
