I don’t get out that much. In fact, I basically go shopping once a year. I have to get all the food I’ll eat, all the clothes I’ll wear, and enough drugs for 364 other killer nights.
So after I took all your cookies, but before I stole the tree, I raided your mom’s medicine cabinet.
Now, normally I just take a few of each. I consider the homeowners from whom I steal Christmas to be like a pharmaceutical buffet, and I’m determined to try a bit of everything. But someone was walking around, I got spooked, so I took the bottle that looked like a brand name and, turns out, your mom really needed those.
I’m not a monster, though. My heart, just like your mom’s, might be two sizes too small. But, unlike your mom’s, that bastard will beat for a thousand years! If I’d known she depended on them, I would have left enough to last until her doctor’s office reopened.
But what can I say? It was early on my run, I was a little jittery from whatever I took next door, and you live with someone whose bladder just won’t quit.
As soon as the coast cleared, I hightailed it up the chimney. I might have even left some stockings up, which, I’ll admit, was pretty unprofessional of me.
I needed to calm my nerves. So I crushed one of your mom’s pills on the dash of the sleigh and took a bump. But it didn’t do anything for me. Then I thought it might be some of that extended release shit that has to be digested. So I washed a couple down with some potato vodka I picked up in that cul-de-sac down from you on Euclid. You know the house with the lion statues? Pretty sure it was there. In any case, that’s Jeff and he rules.
But, anyway, I still couldn’t hear colors.
It was like being back in Whoville. Those nerds never have any good meds. The best they have is the beer batter for leftover roast beast and, frankly, stronger stuff is available in Utah.
So when I added your house to my territory, and I heard about Jeremy’s stay at the holistic treatment facility, I knew I hit the jackpot. I could pinch whatever I wanted and Jeremy would take the fall because your cousin is a smack hound.
But if you ask me, there’s plenty of blame to go around. This wouldn’t have happened if that pharmacist stayed off his high horse about it being too soon to get a refill.
A pharmacist that doesn’t ask too many questions is hard to find. I had one just over the state line that was so old he was legally blind. He’d accept a prescription on anything rectangular. Napkins. Postcards. The Medicaid brochure I took off the counter right in front of him.
He even had me read one to him once!
I’m not sure if he’s retired or dead or what. I just know his replacement was much more detail oriented and I haven’t been to that side of Texarkana since.
You know my dog? The little one? He hasn’t been any help either. I take him to the vet and tell him to act sick. But he jumps around, acts happy to be with other people, and the vet won’t take my word for it that the pooch needs a sizable supply of Adderall.
But here’s what I’m gonna do. To make it up to you, I’ll let you come up to the roof and pick out whatever you want from my haul. Everything is fair game except this sweet Rush pinball machine I saw last year.
It’s true what they say, I really do have the strength of ten Grinches plus two, but it’s not something I can just turn on. It’s a Hulk thing.
I wonder if we’re related? We’re both green. We both have rage strength.
But anyway, the paddles are drumsticks and I have a little pen knife I’ll jam in my thigh to lug it upstairs. Wikipedia doesn’t have a page for Grinch anatomy, but I’m pretty sure I know where my femoral artery is.
Literally anything else is up for grabs, though. I’ll even take requests if you have them.
Tell Jeremy to lose my number, I’m done cutting him in. And again, sorry about your mom.