Aftermath

The stench of peppermint hung in the air; the bodies were strewn about, partially buried under garlands and cookie tins. She stepped over puddles of nog to take "true crime" pictures of the scene. Handprints smeared the walls, dragged down the paper where the owners of those hands had fallen (sometimes face first) into buckets of cocoa and oceans of wrap. "This place," Mrs. Claus whispered, noting that two of the reindeers, brought into the parlor instead of the stable, had crapped in the corner. "Whatta dump." Santa, wearing his fur hat on his left foot, belched and turned over, falling off of the couch onto one of the elves, who cried out in his sleep.