Once upon a time in a large flat off
of St Charles Street in New Orleans, LA lived two brothers named Captain and
Tennille. They were the coolest cats of the South; known throughout the states
as the Davis Brothers. Also they were bandits. Gangsters. Thieves. But they
were more loved than hated or feared.
The Godmother was none other than
Kathlebury Daviscio, daytime educator, all the time Mob Mom. The Mob Mom ran a
strict, no funny business business. She got a lot, but she expected a lot. And
this Christmas Kathelbury was going for gold. Literally.
The Davis Brothers had their
assignment: Hit up the national banks in alphabetical order every other day
starting on Monday and ending on Friday, and change up the times by exactly two
hours each time. Then the weekend would
bring the grand finale: Jewelry stores.
Get all of the gold, save the diamonds and tacky shit. The black market
wasn’t looking to be TOO flashy.
Kathelbury supplied not only the underworld of New Orleans,
but also the North Pole. That’s right: Santa Claus. Sometimes Santa’s elves got
a little lazy, and sometimes his elves got a little cheesy. When those times
came around, Santa had a hard time getting them to produce nice gifts, and thus left with the only option to outsource. The
Mob Mom was all too happy to help.
The banks were a piece of cake.
Monday, Wednesday, and Friday the banks basically just handed over the money to
Captain and Tennille. Not even so much as a scream. Then again it was the Davis
Brothers. They had their charm and their irresistible stare. Who wouldn’t want
to help them?? But when the weekend
came, an unexpected turn in the plans occurred. Maybe it was because Captain
and Tennille split up instead of sticking together? Maybe Kathelbury had been
too relaxed and thought too little of Kay Jewelers’ security? Either way
Captain and Tennille both found themselves in a pickle! They were both
intersected immediately after breaking in by small, infant-sized beings. First thought
was the cops, but Kathelbury had them paid off, and they couldn’t have known
ahead of time about the jewelry heist. Both Captain and Tennille were
kidnapped! Somehow word must have gotten out about the jewelry stores, and that
could only be if there had been a snitch!
Who could have snitched? It’s not
like Kathelbury shared her plans with anyone other than Captain and Tennille,
except on the rare occasion she had to turn in a LESSON PLAN!!! FUCK! Santa
wanted a fool-proof gig, an outline of how it would play out. Fucking Santa. He
would double-cross her, and now he
had Captain and Tennille which meant things were now personal.
Kathelbury boarded her jet. She
wasn’t worried about the gold, but she needed to send a message that she wasn’t
one to be double-crossed by some fat, old FAIRY TALE! And so she set off to the
North Pole.
As Captain and Tennille sat in their
kennels; they laughed. What was this? Amateur hour? You can’t expect cats to be
kept in a kennel! Especially not these two. As soon as the Elves were relaxed
enough with their guard, the cats were out! BAM! Elves were flying left and
right with cat fever! The Davis Brothers signaled Kathelbury about their
escape. Kathelbury was sure they would find a way out, but she wanted to
personally deliver a message to Old St Nick!
Santa was having a gay ole time,
sure that he had pulled the best heist in history when all of a sudden the
doors to his workshop flew open and a hundred elves went screaming for their
lives! “What on Earth?” Santa thought right before Captain and Tennille came
flying in kicking ass and slaying elves with hammers and saws they accumulated
from the workshop. Now usually captain and Tennille weren’t killers, but these
were elves, not much different from a squirrel, right?
As the Davis Brothers took out every
elf in their way, Kathelbury landed her jet taking out half the workshop.
Kathelbury jumped out of the jet with her machine gun and took out every elf
she saw; pest control was here. When there were no elves left, Santa was
cornered. Captain and Tennille tied him up as Kathelbury approached. She knew
she couldn’t take him out completely. Santa was needed even if he had double-crossed her. She took out her pocket
blade and right on his fat cheek, she wrote a nice, elaborate “Kay’s!!!” Blood
poured down his face and beard as Santa screamed, but he was sure to never
forget. The gang left in the jet leaving Santa all alone in a mess of
destruction that was once his workshop. They also took not only the gold but
all the cat toys too. This was indeed the best Christmas for them yet! All the
presents in the world for their pleasure!
Santa had had a rough day, but he was glad to still be alive. As he went to bed, leaving his
worries for another day, he found a Letter to Santa from none other than
Kathelbury. It read:
Dear Santa,
I hope you learned a lesson. Don’t
fuck with me or mine.
Merry Christmas!
-The
Mob Mom
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