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360 There's No Complaining on Christmas!

Premature Release, for Wednesday, Christmas Day, December 25, #360 of the 2024 Story-a-Day Challenge

By Gerard DiLeoPublished about a year ago 2 min read

This Christmas a fruitcake arrived, with a note reading, "A new fruitcake will arrive every month. MERRY CHRISTMAS!"

I didn't know who'd sent it.

I contacted the company to complain, and a customer service rep told me it was purchased with a temporary VISA card with a pre-set amount on it. I asked, "Monthly, for how long?" The man said, "As long as the pre-set amount lasts." I asked if I could send it back, and the man asked, and I quote: "Are you sure about that, man? Whoever sent it must think a lot of ya." When I didn't answer, the man added, "Don't be sorry."

Sorry?

I ended the call and considered calling Homeland Security to report a mysterious package on my doorstep as a clever way of getting rid of it, but I realized I couldn't do that every month.

I've never eaten fruitcake. I found fruitcake about as desirable as a thousand-dollar gift certificate to the Cracker Barrel Old Country Store.

"Visit our store!"

Fruitcake just looks so ugly and horrible that I'd always pitied those who'd gotten one from a Secret Santa or were forced to buy one at a money-raising charity event. It was even uglier than the 50 sock monkeys you can buy at the Old Country Store with a thousand-bucks gift certificate.

Then I read,

Fruitcake aficionado websites say the best fruit cakes are matured, or "seasoned," for three months.

Now I wondered about mine. Had it been matured ("seasoned") already? DId I need to mature it for three more months? By then I'd have two more fruitcakes.

To hell with that! I thought. And I wasn't sorry. Not at all.

Just then an unmarked van pulled up and camouflaged goons stormed my house, the neighbors spying through their blinds. The hooligans forced me into the van and tied me up, where I saw each had been tattooed with a sock monkey.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked.

"Mexico. You're being trafficked for fruit pickin' at the fruitcake camp. Sorry now, asshole?"

I was.

"What's with the sock monkeys?"

One thug just sighed and said, "Let's just say we're sorry we complained about the sock monkeys we got for Christmas."

MicrofictionHoliday

About the Creator

Gerard DiLeo

Retired, not tired. Hippocampus, behave!

Make me rich! https://www.amazon.com/Gerard-DiLeo/e/B00JE6LL2W/

My substrack at https://substack.com/@drdileo

[email protected]

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Comments (7)

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  • Cindy Calderabout a year ago

    Hahahahaha.....It is decidedly funny but while gazing at fruitcake in the grocery store recently, I discovered a new found appeal in my advanced years. Yes, it's true: I have evolved into my grandmother. This was a great story, Gerard.

  • Red Light signalabout a year ago

    this story is hilarious and wild! From fruitcakes to sock monkey tattoos, it’s a ride I didn’t expect. Thanks for the laughs—I’ll never look at fruitcake the same way again

  • Hahahahahahahahaha did not see that coming!

  • Cathy holmesabout a year ago

    Oh dear. Thanks for the reminder. 🤐

  • Katarzyna Popielabout a year ago

    Enjoyed! And thanks for the warning, will be biting my tongue this Christmas...

  • Lamar Wigginsabout a year ago

    😅 I was also wondering about the sock monkeys.

  • Gerard DiLeo (Author)about a year ago

    Premature literation, since nobody's going to be reading on Christmas day, Hanukkah, or [INSERT HERE]. Enjoy early.

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