Tuesday, August 10, 2021

Story Write Compilations Volume 2 Stories 8

 Clause Kitchen 2

 

Author's Note: This is a tale in the Series of Clause Kitchen.

 

Contests rules: A picture of a girl dressed in black tights and garters sitting by the window holding a skull.

 



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Upon one summer’s morning, I carefully did stray,

Down by the Walls of Wapping, where I met a sailor gay,

Conversing with a bouncing lass, who seemed to be in pain,

Saying, William, when you go, I fear you will ne’er return.

 

His hair it does in ringlets hang, his eyes as black as soles,

My happiness attend him wherever he goes,

From Tower Hill, down to Blackwall, I will wander, weep and moan,

All for my jolly sailor bold, until he does return.

 

( Lyrics from the Mermaid Song; Pirates of the Caribbean )

 

I reached out for my jolly sailor but he is not the jolly one I met ten years ago on the beaches of Monaco. He was a hunk of a man with the name that sings in my heart. Like Claude, I was a Nordic beauty like a Siren dressed in the wispy silky gown than with half my current frame and more supple to the surplus now I am saddled with. Oh yes, we had indulged in too many good things during our marriage to had it plastered to our frame today. My Claude sleeps by my side on his large bed and snores to the exhale from his body. He was my jolly sailor then, just as I was his seductive Siren then. But now he is God's answer to the wishes of kids with the ever guaranteed delivery on the eve of Christmas on his magical sled. It's a one-day event, but the chore of preparing the presents is a year-long affair with the elves and pixes. Every child is monitored and being good would get their wish to come true. That is the promise of Santa Claus. But Santa needs nourishment to his body even as he works the days and nights. So that role falls to me, who is his dutiful wife and I command the kitchen to feed him and his helpers. That is my promise to Santa so he won't fail the children in their wishes.

 

By Billy's butt, I almost slept the afternoon away. I am late to my kitchen as I have a supper to prepare for the man who is taking his afternoon nap too long. It may be a quick romp in the bed, but the aftermath is a long sleep for his age. But my job is never to be late. I rushed out of bed and arranged my clothes on my back. One thing about being over sized, the flock will cover the overlapping curves without many worries. When I am prim and proper, I made my way to the kitchen but silence awaits my ears as my usual chattering pixies are ever silent. It's unlike them to be so, as they are chattering bundles of activities where the echoes of singing accompany their works. But not today, and I fear the worse had happened.

 

I bundled myself through the bat wings flap that leads into my kitchen to find a sight unseen before. It's not that the pixies are missing or on the dole, but they are held in the four corners by green tights clad elves armed with bows and arrows. I know these green elves; they are the Pirate of the Algae Sea. I try to sight out their leader of the pack, a lad I knew from my earlier days when he was a Lord's heir and now an adventurer with the tall mast and wenches of the tavern in some ports.

 

"Ribon of the Shirewoods! You come out this minute or I would put in the cell without the help of the Nottingham boys." True to his action, he swung down from the shelves above and stand before me. Ribon is a tall elf to the height of my bosom when it was more supple. He is dressed like his other merry men but he has a phoenix feather in his felt cap.

 

"My lady, Mama Claus. I beg your indulgence in having me in your kitchen today. I am not here on my own accord but that of another person who felt an injustice was done on them. So what better ways to get the old man's attention than to hold his wife ransom." The young pompous elf thinks he has it all planned.

 

"Ribon of the Shirewoods, you made a big mistake. You may just be made up for my day." I took up the dough roller and threw it boomerang style and it swung round the kitchen taking down the elves who held my pixies at the corner. I then took up a long handle spatula and walked towards the mischievous elf who dares to invade my kitchen.

 

The Pixies of mine now freed have recovered their voices and sang.

"There was an Old Man of Quebec,—

A beetle ran over his neck;

But he cried, "With a needle, I'll slay you, O beadle!"

That angry Old Man of Quebec."

( Limerick by Edward Lear )

 

"A man who never makes a lady angry is a failure in life. I stand quoted from Christopher Morley", My brave little elf clad in green tights still wants to make a stand in my kitchen.

 

"It may be true but he ain't married to me." I swung my spatula and knocked the elf across the kitchen slamming into the mushroom patch. "Tell me who send you and you may just be saved from being part of the fertilizer to the mushrooms."

 

"Oh my God! Not on my mushrooms. I just got those dead beetles there to blend in. Mama Claus, I hoped you are not serious. Decayed elves ain't my in my recipe for good fertilizers." I looked at the Head of my vegetable garden head; Shroom of the Round Headed Clans.

 

"Trust me, Shroom. You won't notice the difference in the growth. These elves are all hot air and no flesh." That riles up my Pirate Captain.

 

"Bring up your ...spatula, my Lady. I have taken enough insults from you today. The Pirates of the Algae does not bow to such instigating words." Ribon has pulled out his thread needle to challenge my long hand spatula. But our duel was delayed by the words of another party.

 

"Hold the duel. The pirate is here on my request."

 

I turned to look above at the top window sill where a dark figure sits with one leg raised on the sill. It's a young lady dressed in a black corset and matching stockings. I think they called it Goth wear now and it's popular with the young ladies. She is holding a skull in her hand and it's glowing in the dark. I know that skull; it one of our designs for Halloween.

 

"And who may you be? Didn't your mama tells you not to sit like that? It's very unladylike."

 

"My name is Lorelei, and I am a Siren. I know you are wondering why the sudden change of attire. Well, we are keeping up with the new trends in designs now. The days of the wispy white gown are over; it's hard to wash off those grime and dirt. Black is more ...distinct in taste now." The vixen who is a Siren thinks she can coax some elves in tights to invade my kitchen and get away with it. That would be the day, I am no more Mama Claus.

 

"As the dark waves of the sea

Draw in and out of rocky rifts,

Calling solemnly to thee

With voices deep and hollow,

To the shore Follow!

Oh, follow!

To be at rest forevermore!

Forevermore!"

 

( extract of the poem The Sirens by James Russel Lowell. ) The love-struck Captain of the Pirates began to voice his love for the siren named Lorelei.

 

"Lorelei, you are another Siren to me. Tell me your woes and be freed of my kitchen or I would reduce you to fish paste and be served on a platter for the Cheshire Cat." We can hear the mewing of the cat that vibrates around the room.

 

"No, Mama Claus. I begged for your forgiveness. I am just here to raise a request for a change in our presents for this Christmas. I meant you and Santa no harm. The Elves are to sailed me here on their ship as I have not ventured beyond the shores of my sea." The vixen has sailed down and landed at my feet on her knees.

 

"So tell me, sister Siren. What ails you on your presents?" I looked at her and see myself in her frame ten years ago. It's been such a long time since I sang with the sisters on the sea cliffs. Yes, we are Sirens, but we are no bad vixens. We sing our love to forewarned the sailors of the deadly corrals below the sea lines. But it's their lust which brought them their last breath.

 

"As I was saying, can we have a change of orders for our presents? We prefer them black leathers if it's okay. Our current change of gown is too great for our expenses as they are easily torn on the cliffs. Black leathers add more sexy curves to our looks." She is truly a vixen as she knows the last line was directed to me.

 

"I would check with the old man. No promises, but I would try." She thanked me and floated away. But before she left I told her to say hello to Aunt Calypso. It was then the green tights elves came to stand before me with their heads facing down. "Bad boys don't get presents." They nodded. "But bad boys can be good ones by Christmas may have one present." Their faces all turned up grinning at me.

 

say hey what's it gonna be tonight

come hit me up

come hit me up

say hey party with me tonight

come hit me up

come hit me up

say hey we been running all night

come hit me up

come hit me up

I know you feel it cause you checking me right

come hit me up

come hit me up

baby baby, just a little bit

baby baby, just a little more

baby baby, let me see ya

walk to me talk to me handle me right

 

( Lyrics from Happy Feet Hit me Up by Gia Farrel )

 

Well, I got the pixies to prepare supper while I go back to rest after my late afternoon encounters with the Pirates of the Algae. I walked back to the bedroom and find the old man still snoring in bed. A wicked thought came to my mind, and I rummaged up the large treasure case of mine. I finally found what I wanted. It's been there for over ten years now.

 

"Oh, Claude. Wake up. I got a surprise for you." Claude woke up and rubbed his eyes.

 

"Ho! Ho! Ho! That reminded me of the mushroom we have in the garden shed. But I like the polka dots on you better. "

 

He may be laughing but I am not. I doubt the bikini strings would hold up much longer on my current frame before it goes burst. But it is an itsy teenie weenie polka yellow dot bikini anyway.

 

It was an itsy, bitsy, teenie, weenie,

Yellow, polka dot bikini,

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