[CrackMonkey] [eugene.leitl@lrz.uni-muenchen.de: [Pigdog] Santa rampage]

[Nick Moffitt]

http://www.creative.net/%7Esketch/santa.htm

	Anybody remember the cacophony society's santa rampage?

		--------------

We filtered past the inebriated patrons of Silverlake's hoffbrau of
choice, the Red Lion. Up the stairs to the garden patio, we joined in
on the gathering of the Santa Club. Herr Santa Al, this year's
organizer, was passing out bus tickets to the pre-registered
Santas. His drunken efficiency was a terrific sight to experience and
a real model to all pranksters involved.

Santa Josh and I arrived pretty much on time, which meant that most
everyone had yet to arrive. We bought whiskey sours and manhattans for
each other until all the Santas melted into one big red and white
blur. Later, we were fortunate enough to find a ride with Santa Jim of
snowy Anaheim. Santa Jim was very gracious and continued to be in the
best of spirits despite our lack of direction and drunken
haplessness. Eventually we were able to point him in the general
direction of where we were staying and finally made it back to home
base.

The first item on Saturday's itinerary was grub at Farmer's Market
before boarding the sleigh. Once again, Santa Josh and I had arrived
on time to find nary a Santa in sight. We wandered past all the
foodless business establishments before running into Santa Lotto and
Santa Christa. Santa Lotto reintrouced himself as Santa Michael and
led the way to food.  At the breakfast table, Santa Michael introduced
us to Santa Garbage Strike Man, who wore a black mask over his face
while we waited for our food to arrive.

Our first post-breakfast activity included milling about at the
designated milling about location to meet our sleighs. The sleighs
consisted of two rented coach buses as well as San Francisco's
infamous Cyberbuss and Santa Robert's "Ho Ho Ho Go Santa!" bus. The
sight of all the Santas milling about in one location was
overwhelming.  A sea of red and white. The energy level was extremely
high due to the fact that many of the Santas hadn't begun drinking
yet.

Lyrics of Christmas carols were being handed out as well as gifts of
coal for the naughty kids and single serving cereal boxes for the nice
kids. Most Santas were overheard speaking in third person.

"Santa could sure use a drink!"  "Would you like to sit on Santa's
lap?"  "Santa's feeling kind of funny..."

Santa's first destination was Venice Beach.  Armed with hefty bags and
presents of coal, Santa descended on Venice with the full intention to
pick up garbage and do our good deed for the day. We picked up various
and assorted items of crap and threw as much trash into the garbage
bags as we could.  Surprisingly, Venice did not have as much trash on
the ground as we had anticipated. It would have been considered tacky
to try to throw the vendor's booths away.

Most of the Santas were already at Muscle Beach by the time we made
our way over to the outdoor gym. The lone guy working out was
overjoyed at the sight of a hundred Santas hovering around him. Being
at the center of so much attention gave him the fifteen minutes of
fame he expected out of life. Santa Cal had convinced the muscleman to
bench press the littlest Santa, and he called me over. In moments, I
found myself lifted above all the Santa hats while simultaneously
being spun around for all the other Santas to see. It took absolutely
no effort for him to lift me a good couple of feet above his head as
the crowed "Ho Ho Ho'd" him on.

Santa Melmoth ran into the yard of Muscle Beach and urgently hollered
for all the Santas to evacuate. Unlike a dramatic mass evacuation with
Ride of the Valkyries playing in the background, Santa staggered back
to the bus while singing naughty Christmas carols. Back on board, we
proceeded to get more acquainted with our bottled friends Jack and
Jim.  The ginger ale and whiskey supply was already depleted even
though we had only finished our first stop.

The tourists and foreigners just couldn't stop pointing at all the
Santas that appeared in front of Mann's Chinese theater. The seething
mass of Santa weaved its way through the sidewalk to pose for a
picture at L. Ron Hubbard's Church of Scientology Winter
Wonderland. The Scientology Santa was serenely sitting on his Santa
chair waiting for little kids that wanted their picture taken when we
invaded. Suddenly, there was a flurry of Santa activity where only one
lone Santa had previously sat. Nobody could tell who was the original
Santa and nobody cared. Two cops were sighted nearby and the Santa
with the nice hair ordered everyone off the stage and back towards the
sleigh.

The sleigh raced toward Griffith Observatory, trying to catch the last
rays of sunset from Griffith's wonderful vantage point. Santa Josh
hugged his bottle of whiskey, told me "This is a wonderful, wonderful
day," then passed out in his seat.  Leaving my friend in peace, I
wobbled over to the back of the bus, fending off horny Santas left and
right. We drank, sang and watched bewildered Santas exit the tiny
lavoratory. The back of the bus was a racous, hellraising adventure of
its own.

Santa's schedule was running a little late, so we were only able to
raise hell at the Observatory for fifteen or twenty minutes before
Santa Al walked into the lobby of the museum, took out his bullhorn
and announced "If Santa wants to go to the Titty Bar, please board the
bus now." All the Santas hooted and hollered their way out of the
lobby as parents stood aghast, holding onto their children in fear.


Santa's next destination was at the Sunset Strip, located on Sunset
Boulevard. I confided to Santa Josh that since I had never been in a
strip club, I always associate them with The Graduate. I wondered if I
was going to be able to see one of the strippers spin tassles from her
nipples. We stepped into the darkened bar to find two bored looking
strippers dancing to the Cranberries "Zombie." I asked the Santa next
to me if he knew whether the bar cleans the dance pole on a regular
basis. Waitresses in uncomfortable looking leather and lycra took
orders as the DJ called for more dancers to come on stage. The
strippers, like Santa's reindeer, had ridiculous two syllable
names. "On Coco! On Candy! On Baby and Vixen!"  We watched several
passes of expressionless dancers take the dance floor when the Santa
Chicks finally took to stage. Like everything else that Santa does,
Santa is an exceptional stripper. The Santa women were into what they
were doing and it turned out to be far more impressive than the paid
dancers. Meanwhile, the DJ was trying desperately to get other Santas
to stop taking pictures in the club. In between calls for more tips
and buying more liquor, he would irritably ask for the cameras to
cease and desist. "Whoever took that last picture better come to the
DJ booth right now!" Much to our delight, since everyone was wearing
the same thing, he was never able to find the Santa he needed to
reprimand. This was when Santa got kicked out of the strip bar. Herr
Santa Al led most of the Santas down Hollywood to The Palace, where
the Vandals had taken stage. Confused bouncers eyed us suspiciously as
we filed past them. The floor was packed with moshing, sweating kids
that were all the same age that I was when I listened to the
Vandals. A barely conscious woman was carried out of the crowd by two
burly guys, one wearing a denim jacket which read "Punx for Jesus" on
the back. Our itinerary mentioned that Santa was a very special guest
of the Vandals. Feeling smug, righteous and fucked up, Santa marched
backstage and demanded to be presented to the crowd. One Santa broke
free of the bouncers trying to stem the tide of Santa and she pranced
on stage in all its glory. The bouncers realized that Santa was out of
control and ordered everyone out. Josh and I followed a couple Santas
upstairs and sat down in the dressing room with puzzled looking jock
punks. When they didn't noticably respond to our unusual presence, we
marched back towards the stairs.  Backstage was gridlocked with Santa.
Nobody knew what was going on and everyone was wasted. The bouncers
joined forces and escorted Santa out of the backstage area.

"I used to be big!" screamed one of Santas as we were kicked out of
yet another venue.

All in all, Santa had an excellent time.


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