“I’ve never been hunting let alone hunting something so big.”
Adjusting the scope on his modified Barrett M82 he said “It’s all the same. Take one life, take em all.” As he laid on the padding strapped to his stomach jutting out to create the famous “Santa belly”.
The light shone through the cracked windows to reveal crudely painted reindeer lining the barrel with names that read “Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet and Cupid, Dunder” and “Blixem with the final Reindeer at the helm of the barrel with the opening painted red.
“And the Santa outfit? Is that some sick irony I’m too dumb to understand?”
Adjusting his crosshairs to the gas tank he casually said “Not at all” while pulling the trigger exploding the gas tank creating a fireball fifty feet in the air. The screams from the crowd only lasted as long as it took the fireball to fuse their clothing to their bones.
With a smile on his face he said “No irony, Santa brings gifts. I bring the gift of death.”
Lorne Bronstein