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                            so this is christmas
                                  --------
                               by SwamPDonkeY





  Mr. Steak and John Lennon hired a prostitute.
       
  Mr. Steak strangled her with his scarf and John Lennon used a cheap knife
  and cut her arms.

  They put her on the ground and John Lennon ran his closed mouth along an
  uncut expanse of her slender arm not yet cold. He may have kissed her
  near her shoulder.

  "Goddamit, John, she looks retarded," said Mr. Steak loudly. "Look at the
  way her lips hang like that. She looks like a fucking retard."

  "I don't know," said John Lennon.

  "Goddamit John, cut her mouth. Take her mouth off or something," Mr.
  Steak insisted.

  "I think she's crying," said John Lennon. "Look at her, I think she's
  crying."

  Mr. Steak almost yelled again, but then stopped and put a hand on John's
  shoulder.

  "She's not cryin', man," he said softly. "She's not gonna cry anymore.
  She ain't got nothin' to cry about now."

  John Lennon nodded and they both used their knives to cut the prostitute.
  Mr. Steak cut under one arm around to her neck, as John Lennon tugged his
  blade roughly through her abdomen, carefully avoiding brown caustic
  juices as they crudely and unceremoniously issued forth. This was the
  least angelic part, but he took comfort in knowing how free the girl was
  now.

  Mr. Steak then pulled a largish steel mallet from his gym bag; the kind
  of hammer you can't live without in a body shop. He looked at John
  Lennon.

  "If you want her to be an angel, you'd better turn your head."

  Mr. Steak took the mallet and at first slowly, then rhythmically pounded
  it against the whore's teeth until all the reachable ones had shattered.
  During this long minute and a half of work, John Lennon turned away, his
  left hand holding an arm of the whore, his right hand planted on the
  ground and he lurched over and tried to suppress tears.

  "Okay, let's go." Mr. Steak was already standing up. John Lennon
  accompanied him and without looking back they walked to their old
  Thunderbird and got in the car. Mr. Steak was driving. John Lennon didn't
  like to drive.

  "She sure was a filthy little whore, wasn't she?", John Lennon laughed.

  "Yyyyyup," replied Mr. Steak comically. They laughed together. Mr. Steak
  cranked the car and they backed out of the gravel road.

  "Filthy angel of a whore...", sighed John Lennon, as they rode off into
  the stairways of streetlights of the neighboring town...





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