12 Drummers Drumming – (day 12)

by

Wulfie

 It started so innocently.  We met, talked, began hanging out and doing things together.  Somewhere along the line he fell in love with me and started calling me his True Love.  It was sweet.  He made me laugh and, thank god, was loaded so, at the very least,  I didn’t have to worry about him being interested in me just because I was rich.

We’d been seeing each other for five months and were starting to get very serious when the holidays came around.  The stress of the holiday season does wonders when you’re getting to know someone. Their true colors begin revealing themselves under the constant prodding of horrible music, parties, family gatherings and  the extreme shopping for all those last minute items. Who doesn’t go a little nuts at this time of year?

I confess that it took me too long to see the truth.  It was my own fault for having fallen head over heels with a man who was good to my eyes, mind and heart.  Even after I caught on to the truth it took me too long to take action. In my defense, I was in love and…stupid. And it really didn’t seem to be a bad thing when it started. It was cute.  Endearing. Then confusing then maddening.

It was the daily gifts that forced me to see him for what he was. It ripped my heart out and, I’m afraid, the entire thing has traumatized me permanently.  I don’t think I’ll ever be able to accept a gift from anyone ever again. But that is what drove me to it…those fucking gifts.

What gifts you ask? Well, let me tell you.  It started out twelve days before Christmas with a gift from my True Love.

On the first day he gave me a partridge in a pear tree. Sweet right? And I so love pears and partridge when it’s cooked properly.  The second day the post man delivered two turtle doves. Although they were lovely creatures and their gentle coo-ing sound soothing to my nerves, I wondered what was up with the birds.

The three French hens blew me and my cook away.  She absolutely refused to kill and de-feather the birds and then bake it into a pie. Well, at least his heart is in the right place. I’m sure he was simply trying to help out with the big Christmas dinner we had planned for my parents that very night. I didn’t tell him that we threw his birds out and bought replacements at the grocery store.  I didn’t want to hurt his feelings, after all.  He was being so sweet and considerate that I just couldn’t bring myself to bring it up to him.

On the fourth day of Christmas the delivery man brought four calling birds. I was nearly beside myself and beginning to get a trifle concerned. What is wrong with this man, I wondered?  Did he have some sort of bird fetish? I’d heard of such things but never thought I’d meet anyone who actually had a fetish. They did make lovely sounds and sing all the time.  But quite frankly, I was sick of birds by this time. I covered their cage with a towel to shut them the hell up.  The bird thing was really starting to get on my nerves.

When the doorbell rang on the fifth day I was more than leery about answering it. God forbid it was another delivery of some sort of bird. Thank god, this time it was a simple wrapped box containing five golden rings.  I couldn’t imagine why he’d give me such a thing.  I looked them over and was certain they were real gold. I did have a brief moment of fright when, as I examined them near the fire place I thought I saw bright fiery letters appear on them and then vanish when I dropped them. I laughed, thinking my imagination was getting the best of me. I’m sure it was just a trick of the light but I quickly put them back in the box they’d arrived in. 

Day six’s present was six geese-a-laying. More birds. And I was not even a little impressed with the fact that as soon as they were out of their cage they started laying eggs all over the house. I had to watch where I walked because I never knew when I’d step on one of the little fuckers.

It took well over an hour to catch them all and scoot them out into the back yard.  It’s fenced in so they could run around and lay eggs all they wanted.  I’d never had a goose egg before. Holy shit they were huge – one will make an omelet for the three people. The cook assures me that we won’t ever have to buy eggs again but the neighbors are a little upset by all the honking.

By the seventh day I started to catch on to my True Love’s evil intentions. It became blatantly obvious to me that something was wrong with him.  What was the seventh gift? More fucking birds! Specifically: swans a-swimming.

Of course, I didn’t know they swam until the front end loader stormed up the back yard and started digging a hole. I ran out to stop them and several of the geese chased and bit me. The man tearing up my yard had papers that showed he’d been hired to dig a small pond for the swans and geese to swim in.  He promised the work would be finished by sunset. I didn’t see any way of stopping him. He scared me a little actually.  Certainly the geese and swans would make good use of a pond.  So I let him do his work and apologized heartily to my neighbors who were, by this time, complaining that my house was starting to become a farm. They were still plainly vexed by all the goddamned goose-honking and duck-quacking. 

I called my True Love and very politely asked him to stop sending me gifts.  He was very hurt and felt that I didn’t appreciate how creatively he was courting my heart. Nonetheless, I told him to stop. Then I called the police and talked to a very nice officer who politely listened as I told him everything from the beginning. I told him I was starting to be afraid to open the door.

The kind officer informed me that my True Love wasn’t breaking any laws. The officer suggested that I should relax and appreciate his kindness.  I told him that if he came to my house and had to put up with the constant bird song, honking, quacking, bird shit cleaning and the complaining neighbors he’d understand. 

By the next day I knew that I was definitely dealing with a crazy person. I didn’t care what the cops said. My True Love was a nutcase. I was tongue tied with shock on that eighth day. Despite my having told him to stop sending me these ridiculous gifts what did my True Love do? He sent me eight maids-a-milking?!

Incredible! What was I supposed to do with all those damned cows except add them to the god damned barn yard that my fucking yard has become.

More of his lady friends arrived the next day.  Nine. Yes, you heard me right. That nut-ball sent me nine ladies dancing. The maidens were eating me out of house and home.  I caught six of the milking bitches going to town on my butler in the pantry for god’s sake!  Milking isn’t exactly what I’d call what they were doing but…damned close, if you take my meaning.  And now I had to put up with 9 more women, all half dressed and dancing around my manor as if it were the last whore house in Maine.

I couldn’t even imagine what day ten would bring.  Then the doorbell rang and, before I could get to it the door burst open and 10, that’s right, 10 lords-a-leaping exploded into my house. The maids-a-milking and ladies-dancing went crazy. Now there was an orgy going on in half the rooms of my house. I know that some of these people were doing horrible things to the birds and cows too because, they’d eaten all the food and the kitchen was a bloody mess.

On that day I’d quite had enough. Obviously, my True Love, the man of my dreams was some kind of sadistic bastard who was into animal sacrifices, bestiality, all manner of sexual perversion and group sex. And I think he was, and had been from the beginning, trying to work some sort of voodoo magic on me. Why else all the birds? 

No. Not me. I was on to him and his dastardly plans. It took me a while to decide how I was going to get this insane person and his groupies out of my life. I was up most of the night making my plan which I’d take care of the next day.

The next day I was starting to feel a little better. I had most of my plan laid out and knew what I was going to do, when and how. It was perfect. I was just about to sit down and have a cup of tea when the door bell rang. Wondering what further madness was about to assault my sense I opened the door and I nearly screamed. Eleven people marched in – and yes, I mean marched, as in a marching band – and then began playing their pipes.

Eleven pipers piping.  What more could a girl want? Lovely.

That was it. I couldn’t anymore. I didn’t care if it was all in the Christmas spirit or not.  I couldn’t stand it. Hell, I’d never liked Christmas anyways! Besides, I had my plan. This was going to end on my terms not my True Love’s.

Rather than argue with either the postman or the pipers I grabbed my little box and stormed out the door. Since the police can’t help me, I’d take care of things myself.  I traded in the five gold rings and got more than enough money for what I needed.  I made my purchases then went home, ignoring the blistering stares of my neighbors who were still very upset with all the noise coming from my yard and inside my house.

I called my True Love and invited him to dinner tomorrow night. I apologized for having mistreated him and his kindness toward me. I told him that I’d marry him and, if he’d come to supper that night, we could make plans about the wedding or elopement, whichever he preferred. This was my gift for him on the twelfth day of Christmas. He was ecstatic and glad that his barrage of gifts had finally won over my heart. 

That night, the twelfth day of Christmas, my True Love came to me with flowers and an engagement ring with enough bling to make the Housewives of Orange County envious. We had a lovely dinner. The pipers graciously serenaded us during our meal. At eight o’clock, the door bell ran and I told my True Love that this was to be my day and my gift to him. It was the least I could do for him after all he’d done for me.

I opened the door and in piled the 12 drummers I’d hired. It took several minutes for the pipers and drummers to work things out between them but soon they were all in sync and enjoying themselves as they fooled around with Christmas carols. I told them to really get into what they were doing, to give that boring music a twist of punk or acid rock.  Really crank it up. They happily obliged and my True Love seemed to be truly enjoying the juxtaposition of drums competing with the pan flutes. I’m sure he was also enjoying watching the leaping lords getting down with the ladies dancing.  He didn’t seem to notice the cows or milking maids. And the birds – songs and eggs – somehow added a nice steam punk touch to the entire evening.

I excused myself to go to the ladies’ room and, on my way back, picked up the AA-12 that I’d bought with the money I’d gotten from selling the stupid gold rings. I stood on the top landing and cut loose.

This thing was everything the man I’d bought it from told me it would be. Holy mother of god, loaded with frag-12 explosive rounds it made fast work of them all. I had to agree with the man I’d bought it from, that the flashlight attachment came in handy when I accidentally shot out all the lights, immersing the room in near total darkness.

When I finished, nary a piper was piping, a drummer drumming, cow was mooing nor a bird a coo-ing. Blessed silence. I checked over my work, saw that everyone, including my True Love was dead, and breathed a sigh of relief.  I went into the living room, sat next to the roaring fire and relaxed. Really relaxed and that’s when it hit me.

The sort of off-beat, off-melody tune that the pipers and drummers had been playing went through my mind and I found myself humming and then singing. When the police arrived and took me away, I had the entire song clear in my mind and was so pleased with the result that I sang it as they led me out to the squad car.

I think it will make a lovely Christmas Carol. I think I’ll call it the Twelve Days of Christmas.

What do you think?

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6 Responses to “12 Drummers Drumming – (day 12)”

  1. Susan May

    Good story and a very creative way to tie the 12 day theme together, well done! (I’ve never noticed all the birds before!)

  2. TEC4

    Oh, dear. I have seen a take on this before, but yours is WAY better … I guess those things went over better in the Middle Ages, huh?

    Cute story!

  3. Eric J. Krause

    Ha! Excellent payoff. I was wondering why she didn’t just go through the song to figure out what the next gift would be. This one was cute.

  4. Cecilia Dominic

    So that’s who came up with the carol! Sounds like a combination of crazed minds. I bet the neighbors were happy it was all over.

    CD

  5. Tony Noland

    Um… I think you’d better check the expiration date on that eggnog before you have any more of it.

  6. Patti Larsen

    LOL Nicely played, Wulfie! Fun and psychotic… great buildup and I love the ending… fab!

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