Immortal

The Spirit of Christmas

Unedited
Christmas is a tradition. One that should be celebrated every year so that you can spread and revel in the love of people around you. Eating together, singing together, playing together.

This was all Batty's idea of a traditional and proper Christmas.

To me, this sounded off.

I didn't know what century Batty came from but if she was living in reality she would know that Christmas is when you go to the shops and you see women lining up with screaming children, yelling at them to be quiet while pushing carts stacked with food and other useless junk.

I told her this and she shook her head at me.

"If that is the idea of Christmas, that is a really sad one. I need to show you the true joy in Christmas," she said, determinedly.

I told her that she didn't need to and that I didn't want to but she was set.

"You have been living a pathetic life up  until now. I need to show you that Christmas is a beautiful time of the year," she said.

"You don't need to," I complained.

She just frowned at me. "Yes, I do."

So, that's how she was inspired to make plans to celebrate 'the best Christmas of my life', which was silly. I had celebrated plenty of fun Christmases.

So, there we were, driving along the road to Yulewall because Batty had seen an ad in the newspaper about the Christmas celebrations that would be happening in Yulewall. I had a feeling that it wouldn't be quite as she imagined it.

I had been worried about coming to Yulewall again. It was stupid and dangerous to go back when I probably had people hunting me down, due to me coming back to life and running away. I hoped that when I got there, people would be too festive to actually notice me or care. I also hoped I wouldn't run into Nicolai or his grandfather.

"And we all know that Santa wears Rudolph's underwear," Batty sang, at the wheel- to the tune of Adeste Fideles, continuing the song she had been singing. "And if you think that is strange, wait until you see his red heat rash."

I turned to look at her. "What kind of a song is that?" I asked.

She shrugged. "I heard someone singing it."

I stared out the window, confused on whether to laugh or be weirder out.

"I swear, when he walks by,

you can smell,

those stinky dead skin cells - come on, Valerie: sing!" she encouraged.

"I don't know the song though."

"Just make it up, that's what I'm doing for most of this song."

She sang a few more verses to encourage me. "I swear the heat from between his legs

It heats the whole north pole

His other underwear got worn out

So, Rudolph's undies he stole."

"And Mrs. Claus has her period

She can't stand the smell of roast beef

whenever Santa walks by

It messes with her OCD," I continued with an embarrasses shake of my head.

Batty beamed widely.

Batty slowed the song down a bit, making it sound more solemn.

"The heat rash is a serious thing

It hurts like the sun is in your balls

For seventy years,