My Stories, Seven Keys Saga

Santa’s Visit – A Munindwade and Sara Adventure

Santa'sVisit(A Non-Cannon Poem from the World of the Seven Keys Saga)

‘Twas two weeks before Christmas, and all over the area

Everyone partied, except a little girl named Sara.

The adults were all noisy and somewhat raucous,

leaving Sara alone with just a homunculus.

With Sara in her jammies, and Muni surfing the Net,

Both felt they were being punished, you bet.

“This is just mean,” Sara declared,

Angry enough her nostrils flared.

“Calm down, kid,” Munindwade said.

“I’ll get in trouble if they find out your not in bed.”

“Grown-ups are jerks,” Sara complained,

Once again starting her little refrain.

“Santa will hear you,” Munindwade warned.

“And on Christmas day, you will be the one scorned.”

“Santa’s not real! Miss Greavy said so!

“If you think he is, you’re dumber than Endo!”

Munindwade chuffed at being compared to a cat

An invisible, imaginary stuffed-one at that.

“You’re old enough now to learn the truth.

Santa is real, and I have the proof!”

He crossed to his backpack and took out a book,

Thumbed through the pages and gave it a look.

He flipped through the pictures, both friendly and scary

Stopping on a page marked “Summoner: Be Weary.”

“This is your last chance to take just my word,

What I’m gonna show you can’t be unlearned!”

Sara rolled her eyes, “There’s no Santa, Randy!

There are no nice elves that give away candy.”

Munindwade could admit that was sound advice,

But she was being a brat and he was done playing nice.

“We’re gonna summon the real Santa Claus!”

A clear violation of all Order laws.

“No way!” Sara said with an astonished look.

“It says you how to do that, there your book?”

“Of course it does!” Munindwade cried.

“What’s going on in there?” “Nothing” Both lied.

“We have to keep quiet, we don’t want to be heard!

In a moment we can be loud but for now mums the word.”

“Why?” Sara asked, the obvious question.

Curiosity was the child’s most common expression.

“When it comes to Santa, Terry’s got problems.

One missing Furby and he still wakes up sobbing.”

“Now we need cookies and milk, a stocking and tree,

Hearth and fire, and something to connect you to me.”

From under the bed came animal crackers and a juice box.

From deep in the closet came a torn up old sock.

A Lego hearth around the night light’s fiery glow

Joined a pine cone covered in glitter for snow.

The last part was trick as Munindwade knew,

But he thought is idea would probably do.

He dressed in the clothes he had stolen from Randy

While Sara colored a picture and thought it was dandy.

“I know this is hard, but I need you to feel

The feeling you felt when we were with Carter Neil.

Sara crinkled her face with a whimper

Then quietly said, “Ok, I remember.”

“I know you were scared, but you acted so brave.”

Munindwade said with a voice unusually grave.

“Hold on to that courage and love that you felt!”

The Muni crossed to their makeshift circle and knelt.

“Oh Father Christmas! Fat elf so Jolly!

Head my summons and answer my calling!”

At first nothing happened, the energy just faded.

Then a loud crack and down from the windows snowflakes cascaded.

The miniature fireplace flew off the shelf,

Then stretched and grew to admit a dark elf.

“Ho! Ho! Ho! What do I see?

“Two very naughty children, summoning me!”

“Coal for these children here,” Santa said with a crack of his whip.

Munindwade knew in an instance this wasn’t St. Nick.

“Stay away from the girl, you saggy old fart!

“Take one step closer, and I’ll tear you apart!”

“Such big words from so small a bundle!”

Santa’s laugh shook the room with a thunderous rumble.

Muni and Sara both shrank back in fear.

Santa just reared and laughed at their tears.

He towered above them, gnashing his jaws,

Then leaned down and breathed, “Here comes Santa Claus!”

“I’m warning you, Santa! Touch one hair on her head-”

“And you’ll do what? Hide under the bed?

“I’ve watched you for years and can read your soul, Terrance Howard.

You were brave once, but tonight you’re a coward!”

Munindwade stood tall. Wall as tall as he can,

Considering he was only one forth the size of a man.

“You take that back, you darn dirty elf!” Munindwade said with aggression.

“Check yo self before your wreck yo self,” he added in his best Ice Cube impression.

Krumpus tried to reply but before he could begin,

The door flew open and an angry Mage wondered in.

Terry stood relaxed, by his side the black blade.

“Hey Santa, baby, there’s a debt to be paid.”

Terry stalked forward, sword drawing in light.

Krumpus backed down, trying to avoid a fight.

“I punish wicked children, that’s what I do!

“These two have been naughty, what’s it to you?”

“Run away, Krumpus, that’s your only choice,”

Terry spoke with daggers of ice in his voice.

“You threaten my family? My city? MY HOME?

“I won’t need backup. I’ll kill you alone.

“This is your chance. I’m not getting kinder.

Get the fuck out or meet the Soul Binder!”

The spirit stamped his big feet, and mad a big fuss,

But rushed back to the fireplace lodged under the truss.

“This isn’t over, you insolent boy!

“I’ll crush your spirit and end all of your joy!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Terry mocked with an eye-roll and a sigh

“One day you will find a way to just make me cry.”

The spirit did flee, back into the fire with great haste.

He snatched the crackers and juice. No offering going to waste.

The Legos returned to a massive heap on the floor.

Terry spun on a dime, his angry eyes starting to bore.

“Seriously, Muni? You summoned the Christmas Ghost?”

Munindwade’s eyes filled with the shame he felt most.

“Sara didn’t believe in Santa.” Muni said with a shrug.

Terry turned to the girl, and pulled her into a hug.

“Oh, kiddo, don’t grow up on me that quick.

“Yes, Santa is real, but he’s kind of a dick.”

Published by M.A. Brotherton

M.A. Brotherton is a writer, blogger, artist, and fat-kid from the suburbs of Kansas City, Missouri. He’s tasted a little bit of everything the Midwest has to offer, ranging from meth-tweaking rednecks in massive underground cave complexes to those legendary amber waves of grain. When he’s not writing, he spends most of his time screwing around on the internet.

One thought on “Santa’s Visit – A Munindwade and Sara Adventure”

  1. Skip says:

    Kind of like the writer of this poem. Love you Matt!

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