... But Keep The Old
A/N: This is a continuation of the previous chapter. The song in this part, which I did in fact hear in a pub once, is sung to the tune of Battle Hymn of the Republic.
Warning: Completely off the wall. Jesus spends New Year's Eve drinking with Santa Claus and Lucifer. Ye be warned.
(New Year's Eve. Jesus walks into a bar. Santa's already there, in a booth, sipping a big glass of water. His nose is a little less red than last time.)
Santa: Evening, Giovanni.
Jesus: (Sits). How have you been, Sam? You're looking better.
Santa: Thank you, I've been trying to... (Gestures to his water) cut back. Not counting last month, of course; Decembers are always stressful... but other than that, I've been on the right track since the summer.
Jesus: That's great. I got your birthday card, thank you.
Santa: You're welcome- oh! That reminds me: mail. I've been meaning to ask you this. Boys and girls sometimes seem a little confused about what I can do for them, and I end up with a lot of mail that should more properly be addressed to you or your father. What do you want me to do with it?
Jesus: Actually, that runs in both directions. Pony-giving and the like is really more your job than mine, but children - young ones especially - send a lot of that to me.
Santa: Should we start forwarding the misaddressed letters to each other, do you think?
Jesus: Yes. And the gray-area ones, we'll just each keep his own.
Santa: All right... I've always wondered, though: what should I do with requests to bring pets back to life? It breaks my heart, but...
Jesus: Throw 'em away. What else are you going to do? People ask me all the time, for pets and humans, but...
(Door opens and a guy walks in. He's got spiked hair, which only imperfectly conceals two short horns. He looks around and then meanders over. He's quite striking, all in leather, and by the time he reaches their booth he's trailing several female patrons and a cute young waitress.)
Lucifer: You could refer those people to me, guys, and maybe I can work something out. (Turns to waitress) Hi, kiddo, how's about you start bringing some drinks on over? Open up a tab for me. I'm... Sam.
Jesus: No, you're not. He's Sam.
Lucifer: Fine. Then call me... L... Louie.
(Waitress goes.)
Jesus: Not that introductions are necessary at this point, but... (Looks around, lowers his voice.) Fallen One, this is Father Christmas, going by Sam today. Santa, though I won't say his name, you know exactly who's just sat down with us... just call him Louie for now, and don't be afraid. He can't do anyone any harm with me here. (Voice hardens up). What do you want here, creature?
Lucifer: I prefer Louie. Sounds so cute and harmless, doesn't it?
Jesus: God knows you no matter what you call yourself.
Lucifer: Pompous ass. (Turns to Santa). So did I hear you've gotten clean now? Congratulations. We should get a beer to celebrate. (Sniffs the air. Sinister, sibilant). No... you're not such a beer guy, are you... let's see... I bet you are more partial to-
Santa: You know exactly what I drink; you're the one sending me anonymous bottles of it every couple of weeks!
Jesus: (Outraged) Louie!
Lucifer: What? He could throw 'em away if he wanted!
Santa: Y'know, where I come from, you don't buy a man a drink except as a gesture of friendship. And you are certainly not my friend.
Lucifer: (Even more sinister) I would like to be. What'll you have?
Jesus: Stop it, I'm warning you.
Lucifer: (Sneers) Why - are you on that diet again?
Santa: Diet?
Lucifer: These days they don't make gods of bratty little girls who try to starve themselves; they lock them up and stick a tube down their throat.
Santa: (Laughs, a little forced) Come on, now, stop it. Everyone is supposed to be jolly this time of year. You want a little chat and cheer? Tell you what: if it's all right with Gio it's all right with me. Drink, boys?
Jesus: You know I don't...
Santa: Oh, come on! You drink wine.
Lucifer: Indeed he does. And I think we have a vintage here we'd all find quite... tasty. (Leers, licks his lips).
Jesus: (Hand migrates to neck protectively) One drink. Everybody pick his favorite, we toast, we go home. And then, Louie, you will stop sending bottles to Sam in the mail. Agreed?
Lucifer: My my, Sammy-boy, he's willing to make a deal with the devil for you! Oh, the selflessness.
Jesus: (Flexes his hand, and for one moment a bloody wound shimmers. Doesn't even need words).
Lucifer: Now, let's not show off, shall we. (A sharp sound from under the table; what he's tapping is not a shoe). What'll you have?
Santa: A good brandy, if you please.
Jesus: A little wine.
Lucifer: (Stands up) To hell with the both of ya! Hey - barmaid! Three Irish carbombs!
Santa: (Nose wrinkles) Ugh - carbombs?
Jesus: (Looks horrified) Carbombs?
Lucifer: Carbombs. Wait right here. (Heads up to the bar and fetches them in record time.) Drink up, kids. To...
Santa: To people!
Jesus: To people.
Lucifer: Heh, heh. To people.
(They drop their shots in their beers, and chug. Santa and Lucifer finish together. Jesus lags behind, but gets there eventually and bangs his glass down next to the others).
Jesus: Eugh! That was vile! It tasted like sin.
Lucifer: Didn't it just. (Smirks). So... what's next - brandy?
Jesus: I said one!
Lucifer: You said we each get to pick one. Cmon, Jezey H, you're not going to make a liar out of yourself, are you? That's my job.
Santa: He does have a point, Gio.
Jesus: (Half-swallows a burp). Fine. I won't waste my time arguing with you. Brandy: just a little, very quick, then home.
(Lucifer's already at the bar, chatting up the bartender. It doesn't take him long).
Lucifer: Brandy! (Pours, from a big bottle, into big glasses). Toast to what?
Santa: Hic! To the children!
Jesus: (Mildly, tipsily amused). To the children.
Lucifer: To the children.
(Santa gulps while the others sip. He catches Lucifer's eye, Lucifer winks, and his glass is full again. Another wink... and so is Jesus's.)
Jesus: Louie, I warn you...
Santa: Ah, ease up. We're all friends here.
Lucifer: Or will be soon. We pour another few drinks down that holy hatch of his, and he'll be going Get thee behind me Satan with a whole new meaning.
(Santa snorts. Jesus takes a minute to get it).
Jesus: Ugh!
Lucifer: Oh, please: tell me you don't find this adorable. Go on - tell me. (Subtle shift in his features; suddenly he's of ambiguous gender and very sexy).
Santa: (While pouring another round) Whoa there, son - first off that's disgusting, and second, if you get us noticed we'll have to leave.
Lucifer: We don't have to do anything. Mr. Omnipotent over there can bend their wills with a thought.
Jesus: Forget it.
Lucifer: Come on, J-
Jesus: If you start the tempting thing, I'm out. I'm not in the mood tonight.
Lucifer: (Sneers) He has a headache.
Santa: Ease up. Look - another round and we're almost out of brandy. On to the wine?
Lucifer: I'll get it - I have to go take a leak anyway. (Off he goes).
Santa: (Burps) Giovanni, I'm surprised: you really can hold your liquor.
Jesus: Hardly. I'm changing about half of it into water as I go - and I'm still dizzy. Be careful. It's not safe to get drunk around you-know-who; the minute he thinks your guard is down he'll talk you into something you regret. Remember what happened with Eve...
Santa: (eyes wide) Eve? Eve was drunk? That's why she did it?
Jesus: He told her: hey, I know you can't eat that fruit there, so why don't you try these mushrooms instead? They're pretty good. (Shrugs). Next thing you know, Eve's high as a kite... hearing voices, snakes that talk, the whole deal. At that point she'd've eaten live coals if someone told her to.
Santa: Wow.
(Lucifer returns, wineglasses already poured.)
Lucifer: And here's for you, and for you... and for me.
Santa: Hold it. Gio, switch glasses with him. For all you know he poisoned yours. (Switches the glasses)
Lucifer: (Dirty look. Empties it on the floor and pours a new one). These days we call it "roofie," you outdated old fart.
Jesus: Roofie?
Santa: Me outdated? What about you? You're supposed to be the devil himself, lord of all things that go bump in the night... and people couldn't care less about you.
Lucifer: Oh, come on. Back me up here, Jesus. People invoke you against me all the time.
Jesus: (Smirks) Actually... more people pray for protection against the ghosts of dead Japanese children than protection against you.
Lucifer: You lie!
Jesus: Nope.
Santa: Ha! I knew it. And I'm not surprised - the elves got ahold of a copy of The Grudge a few years ago and-
Lucifer: Fine! You want to see something? Check this! (Raises his voice, shouts to the bar at large). Hey! Hey! Jesus can't play rugby!
Jesus: What?
Some Drunk Guy: Yeah! (Sings) Jesus can't play rugby cause he's only got 12 men! Jesus can't play rugby cause he's only got 12 men...
(The tune's not hard, and other drinkers pick it up. By the end of the verse half the bar is involved. Drunk Guy leads them through several other verses: Jesus can't play rugby cause his headgear is illegal. Jesus can't play rugby because he has open wounds... etc).
Santa: God forgive me, I actually know this song. (Chants along) Jesus can't play rugby cause he wears illegal spikes...
Jesus: (Into his wine glass). I have a half a mind to learn rugby; that'd put an end to this.
Lucifer: You can't. Why? (Catches up with the song) ...because your dad will fix the game! You cannot play rugby cause your dad will fix the game-
Jesus: (Trying, trying to keep a straight face) Oh, that's very mature. Sam, next year give him a big bag of coal from me, will you?
Santa: Don't worry, it's under control. What do you think's been fueling the fires of Hell all these years?
Jesus: (Blinks) Really? (Bursts out laughing)
Santa: Good Lord, you're drunk.
Lucifer: (Raises his glass) Amen to that.
Jesus: And a happy new year!
(Bar patrons are all getting down on their knees for the last verse of the song):
Drunk People:
Jesus, we are only kidding.
Jesus, we are only kidding.
Jesus, we are only kidding.
Jesus saves, Jesus saves, Jesus saves!
The End.
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