How Dr. Clef Got Into My Santa Claus Pants I'll Never Know

rating: +95+x

Something pulsed underneath Dr. Cimmerian. It was a methodical beat, the kind that, in his experience, signaled the end of the world. When he finally opened his eyes, he was face down on carpet in a dimly lit room. Broken and empty bottles covered the floor in front of him.

He felt warm, at least. He reached up to scratch at his chin and found it covered in thick hair. Before he had time to consider that, his head exploded in pain as the first rays of sunlight shined into his eyes. He rolled over to face the other direction and found himself face to face with a woman in most of an elf costume. She, mercifully, was still asleep. Consequences. That's what this morning was.

He could hear a radio in the next room, the source of the pulsing beat. He rolled himself over onto his stomach and raised himself off the ground. He finally looked at his own arms for a moment and realized he was wearing a Santa Claus suit, minus pants. His underwear were, thankfully, clean. He reached up and scratched his chin again, running his hand through the fake beard.

His first course of action was clear, he needed to find his pants. And turn off that damn radio. He surveyed the room and saw nothing but men and women in elf costumes, bottles, and a few sundry pieces of paraphernalia. He stumbled out into the open kitchen, trying to find the source of the music.

As he came into the kitchen, two things became a stark reality. One, the radio on the counter was playing California Gurls by Katy Perry and even with a pounding headache he was going to let that keep playing. Two: Another Santa Claus was making himself a sandwich next to the sink. This Santa Claus's pants were a deeper red than the rest of the man's costume and one or two sizes too big.

This son of a bitch was wearing his pants.

"Hey." Dr. Cimmerian whispered, trying to avoid worsening the headache he was experiencing. "Give me back my pants."

Dr. Clef turned around holding a peanut butter sandwich and answered with a mouth full.

"Bullshit. Finders keepers."

Dr. Cimmerian, still quite drunk and not thinking things through, walked over to Clef and tried to pull at the man's waistband. The two got into a sort of slap fight over it until Clef managed to disengage and back away.

"Hey, watch it, fucking handsy!"

"Shut the fuck up and give me my pants Clef."

"No. Go away."

Cimmerian jumped forward and threw a short punch to the Clef's abdomen. Clef tensed at the last moment to take the blow. He then countered with a wild haymaker that connected with Cimmerian's left upper arm. Cimmerian prepared to launch himself again as a gunshot cracked in both men's ears. They winced and grabbed at their heads, both feeling more than hearing the noise.

Shaw stood just inside a screen door that neither of them had noticed until now. He was also wearing a Santa Claus costume, but he had an extra pair of red pants slung over his shoulder. He waved his pistol at the ceiling.

"Fucking fuck." Shaw said from behind dark, sunken, and bloodshot eyes. "Just put his pants on."

Shaw threw the pants down between them. They were a different shade of red but also discolored in several places.

Cimmerian cocked an eyebrow. "Clef. Why are your pants covered in blood?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Well I'm not gonna wear bloodstained pants you fucking psycho."

Clef let out a sigh. "Fine! Fucking picky bitch. It's mostly my blood anyway."

Shaw raised his hand. "Mostly?"

Clef shook his head while removing his pants. "I don't want to talk about it."

Clef and Cimmerian exchanged pants. Shaw leaned into the garbage can and vomited for a solid 20 seconds while the two of them got dressed.

Shaw turned away from the garbage can for a few moments. "Also we have to go, I'm pretty sure I just shot a guy." He went back in for round two.

Clef and Cimmerian looked at the hole in the ceiling and saw a trickle of blood beginning to fall. They also heard a male voice groaning.

Cimmerian sobered up as best as he could. "Phones and guns."

They searched their persons and produced one phone and three guns.

Clef nodded. "Better than last time."

Cimmerian shook his head. "Shut the fuck up. I saw a landline in the living room. Clef: call 911. I'll go out and steal a car. Shaw, figure out why that donkey is here."

All three of them looked up to see a brown-gray donkey with fake antlers wandering into the kitchen.

Shaw nodded. "Got it."

They split up and got to work.

Cimmerian ran outside. There was one car on the abandoned street. He checked the door. Unlocked. He got inside and started messing with the wires underneath. Clef and Shaw came out of the house's front door. They looked at the car, at each other and then at the car again.

"Cim that's a two seater and there's three of us."

"Shaw can ride in the trunk." Shaw grimaced and nodded begrudgingly.

As they got closer to the car, Cimmerian popped the trunk. Then he got back under the dash. Shaw walked around to the back and stopped. "Guys there's a guy in an elf costume in here."

Cimmerian stopped and looked at Clef. Clef shook his head. "What. I don't want to talk about it."

Cimmerian shook his head and looked back at Shaw. "Wake him up and throw him in the yard."

Shaw clicked his tongue. "Yeah this guy's not waking up."

Cimmerian managed to get the car started, then got out to figure out how to handle the situation.


All available officers, we have a 10-71, shots fired in Lillian Oaks. Suspects were seen fleeing the scene in a blue smartcar. Please be advised that all three suspects are wearing Santa Claus costumes. At least one is strapped to the top of the vehicle. They are to be considered armed and extremely dangerous.

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