Ned Gets Stood Up

Chapter Twenty-Two

At the end of their tour, Griffin found himself faced with a bouncer dressed up as Santa. If Griffin never saw a single Santa Claus ever again, he'd swear it would significantly prolong his life.

"ID?" The beefy Santa bellowed like a giant keeping weary travelers from passing through a bridge.

"Here," Indie said and elbowed Griffin to join them. "How's it going, Jerry?"

As Griffin dug for his wallet, the bouncer said, "Pretty good. We got a good crowd tonight. Never seen this friend before."

"Indie's popular," Griffin remarked and showed his real ID. He didn't imagine Indie had a fake one or that their moral compass would even allow it.

Indie smirked at Griffin, thankfully catching Griffin's joke.

The Santa bouncer, whose name Griffin already forgotten, nodded and pulled out two red bands and attached them to their wrists. Then he stepped aside to let them inside.

Like a little kid, Griffin stayed close to Indie's back as Indie walked down the steps into the Golden Dog Bar. Griffin stepped into another world. The brick walls were covered in long hanging gold, red, and green tinsel. A stage was pressed into the far wall with a huge rainbow Christmas tree covered in what looked like handmade ornaments.

A banner graced the ceiling, stretching across the stage: MAKE THE YULE TIME GAY GALA.

The bouncer was right. There was a good crowd of people of all ages, shapes, colors, and sizes. It was a grab bag of people, some dressed to the nines and some hiding inside comfortable sweatshirts. Grabbing Griffin's arm, Indie led him to the bar.

"Two cokes please!" Indie shouted over the music. On stage, a pair of Rudolph impersonators sang Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer with a comically dramatic reenactment.

"What are we doing here?" Griffin asked, not joining Indie on a bar stool.

"It's time for your next task."

Griffin had to register what Indie was saying at first. For a brief while, Griffin forgot all about this journey and his tasks. The mall was so far gone from his mind, a part of him was just following Indie around. His face burned again as he mustered up the foulest look he could manage to hide behind.

"Your task is to wrap the fanny pack."

"And? there's no way it's that easy..."

The music stopped and they paused to clap and holler at the stage. Emerging from the wings, a Drag Queen stepped on stage with a sparkly microphone. "Yes, yes, give it up for the Twins. Compliment them while you can, I'm sending their asses back to the North Pole. I've been extra good this year and I expect some good gifts this year or else, Santa's the one's that's been naughty."

The Drag Queen whipped her train around to cross the other part of the stage. "Seriously, y'all we know why we're here. This is for the Trevor Project. All tips are going to the cause and if you look at this gorgeous, gorgeous tree behind me, you can bid on your ornament of choice. The decision's hard y'all. I mean, what do you go for? The ornament with Jeff Goldblum's face or the one with Tony's phone number on it? Hey, Tony! I thought I was special!"

The crowd laughed and Griffin took his soda from the bartender. Indie continued with their task management as the host explained the current goal and how much they made so far. "You're learning well, Griffin Thomas. Yes, wrapping might be easy, but to wrap it, you need other people's opinion. From the box, the way it's wrapped, the ribbons, the bows, and where they go."

"Oh? Is that all?"

"You also need someone to tape it for you."

"You're trying to kill me. You were sent from Hell to kill me, weren't you?"