Page 104 of The Holidays with Mr. Mitchell
I stood, bourbon still in hand, and stepped toward the front window. The second I saw what it was, I froze. It was arusted, half-collapsing, 1980s RV. And not just any RV, it was Uncle Eddie’s RV fromChristmas Vacation. Complete with the busted exhaust pipe, plastic wreath duct-taped to the grill, and the words‘Merry Christmas…Shitter’s Full’sprayed across the back.
The psychopath driving it nearly ran over two lawn statues while it peeled through my manicured front lawn and came to a stop.
I blinked and set my bourbon on the side table. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
Before I could process the absurdity of it, the RV door swung open—and out stepped Jake. I was right about one thing so far: a psychopath was the driver. Then the next one to step out was Collin.
Collin was wearing what I could only assume was the same thing Eddie wore during Frank Shirley’s kidnapping. Then there was my brother, dressed like Clark Griswold.
“Oh, for the love of?—”
I opened the front door just in time to hear Collin yell, “Merry Christmas! You ‘bout ready to do some kissin’?”
“Very original,” I said, rolling my eyes at his memorized lines. “What the hell are you two jackasses trying to pull off?”
Jake raised his arms. “We heard Avery’s party got canceled, so we brought her party toyou!”
“On mylawn?” I shouted back, laughing despite myself. “Have you both lost your damn minds?”
“Us? Never,” Collin said, walking toward me with a rope in hand. “The one who seems to have lost his mind is you. I can’t believe youactuallywore the damn pajamas,” he trailed off laughing.
“What is the rope for?” I eyed it.
“Let’s just say the rope is the final addition to your cute little jammies,” Jake laughed. “And now, it’s time we throw your sorry ass into the role you wanted to play before your wife saved your ass with Christmas parties this year.”
“I will literally play the role and call the cops on you sons of bitches without concern about who might miss you on Christmas Day,” I said as firmly as I could manage.
This whole thing was beyond me, but part of me found it more hysterical than annoying. I swear to God, if Jake and Collin couldn’t truly prank someone—namely me—during the holidays, they’d most likely be pouting by Christmas morning.
“All right, we’re on a time crunch,” Collin advised Jake. “Tie his ass up and throw him in the RV.”
“Where the fuck are you taking me? Your house? Av’s party was canceled.”
“Pay no mind to where we’re going, Mr. Shirley,” Collin said. “All you need to know is what’s happening right now.”
“And that is?” I questioned.
“We’re kidnapping you and reminding you that next time, it would be wise not to offer the entire company your lame-ass version of a Jelly of the Month club.”
“Seriously? That is so far in the past that the fucking hashtags don’t even exist anymore,” I said.
“That’s what you think,” Collin chuckled.
Only these dipshits would hang onto that six weeks later, after millions were poured into holiday parties for the company. Now, I was playing the victim as they recreated the movie scene where Cousin Eddie kidnaps Clark’s boss and drags him to the house, wrapped in a bow.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “You idiots couldn’t have picked a better time?”
“Oh, this is thebest and onlytime,” Collin said, looping the rope like a cowboy. “Besides, you’re trending as the Grinch in Gucci. We’re actually doing you a favor.”
“By getting me trending as the boss from Christmas Vacation?”
“Precisely,” Jake added.
I shook my head, but the smile crept in anyway. “You two are out of your damn minds.”
“You’re saying that now,” Jake said, “but by the time we’re through with your sorry ass, you’ll wish you were as gifted as we are.”
“Gifted?” I muttered. “I don’t think that’s the right term to describe the two of you.”
