Beaujolais for the pimpin' Christmas year! Despite the complete and utter passing of the holiday season of sharing and caring, Pigdog Journal continues to pump out the essay contest extravaganza winners!

[PDJ's own Miss Conduct, in her first year in the Pigdog Journal Annual Christmas Essay Contest, has made a strong and brilliant foray into the fray! A true story of Christmas pimpin' magic that will make a little child's face light up with Holiday Joy. Mele Kalikimaka! -- Mr. Bad, Essay Contest Editor]

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Are You My Mack Daddy Santa? (or Santa Claus Wants Some Lovin')

I donned my festive red crotchless fishnets and faux fur miniskirt/coat ensemble. Easy access makes for quick trick turnover. It was sure to be a fruitful night this dark and lonely Christmas Eve. I saunter towards my lucky corner by the bus station. Sliding a candy cane between my lips, I start licking.

This Suit leaves the bus station and heads my way. "Want some candy mister?"

"N-n-n-no thanks." He's all cold and stuttering. Just when I start to think I'm wasting my time, my cell phone rings.

"Angel here. You got the dime, I got the time."

"Yeah, yeah, save it."

"Lenny? Is that you? Baby, where you been?"

"Shut up and listen. I got this deal for you. I can't tell you much more except that he's loaded. In more ways than one. But you got to keep this under your hat, if you know what I mean. You, uh, available?"

"Yeah. You know where to find me."

A few minutes later this black Lincoln Town Car pulls up. The back window rolls down and a fat, white bearded man holding a half empty bottle of JD, wearing sunglasses and a red velvet suit lolls his head out.

"Psssst. Hey Fat Boy, you want a date?"

"Ho! Ho! Ho!"

"Yeah, quiet Big Boy, don't announce it to the whole world now. This place is crawling with undercover fuzz."

"Get in." Lenny rolls down the driver's window and motions me to the other back door.

As I sidle up next to the Big Guy, a teenager in a funky green suit offers me some `E'. "No thanks kid. But I sure could use some hash."

The kid's face squinches up all sour like as he passes me the hose from this elaborate hooka all covered in flashing lights.

"Don't call me kid, whore!"

"Whatever. Hey Len, where's my dough?" Lenny hands me a huge wad of bills like none I ever seen.

"Weeeeelll, Merry Fucking Christmas ya'll. Who's first? Want some candy Tubby?" I run my candy cane along his cherry shaped rosy lips.

"HO!" I take off his sunglasses and see spirals where his eyes should be. He starts groping at my commodities all haphazard and chaotic like, hollering "Ho! Ho! Ho!" over and over.

"Yeah Mister, I thought we already established that. You're a friendly one, ain't ya?" Whispering in his ear, I reach down and deftly open the crotch of his red velvet pants.

I jump back. "Shit! I ain't never seen one like that." Out pops his red and white striped tool. "Is that a candy cane, or are you just glad to see me?"

Lenny and the kid start laughing. Then it occurs to me, white beard, red velvet suit, little man in green. "Holy reindeer! Are you..?"

"Yeah, now shut up and suck bitch!" I don't usually cotton to language like that, but it was a slow night and, well, `tis the season. As I lean down, I smell a faint aroma of peppermint.

It didn't take long for the Jolly One to release his expenditure of minty freshness. Afterwards, we drive around awhile. The kid, er, uh, Elf, climbs into the back seat and we start making out. Next thing I know, the Town Car is parked outside this biker bar and it's just me and Elfie getting all hot and heavy in the back seat.

"Want to see the toy I made?" He pulls out this green, pine scented, multi-speed vibrator with flashing lights and a red bow in a certain, ahem, place. He starts serenading me with "Jingle Bells" as he gets busy.

Just as me and Elfie where getting our serious freak on, I'm pulled out of my coital, hashish haze by the cries of someone getting their ass whooped. Elfie rolls down the window and shouts, "Fuck! Their killing Santa! I gotta go babe. It's been a slice."

So there I am alone and stoned in Santa's Sleigh with the biggest wad of cash I've ever seen. I grab what's left of the hash and head into the biker bar to freshen up in the ladies. As I make for the front door to leave, my Pimp Daddy Eugene walks in. He's all hot headed and sweaty like he just ran a marathon.

"Hey, Genie-baby, Merry Christmas. You'll never believe the night I had." I wave the wad of cash in his face.

"Come on A, let's get outta here fast." Eugene grabs my hand and tows me out to his horse. We ride off in the night and never look back.

I don't know what happened to Santa. Lenny won't never talk to me about it. Any time I ask, he gets all moody and silent like. But I do know this, that was the best Christmas I ever had.

dunsmuir@pigdog.org