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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Comedy · #1630001
The Osborne's are a typical family with a not so typical family dispute during Christmas.
This is a special story about the Osborne’s. A humble family living in the suburbs of a small little town during Christmas day. They have been through a lot together but this story in particular is a day no one will ever forget. We have a typical family made up of a happily married couple with two children, both of them boys. They also have a very old grandfather living on his own in a retirement home. The day will begin at the Osborne’s house, a typical morning that they often go through. It will end at grandpa’s house in a not so typical family feud.  Let’s not forget their little kitty cat, Muffin. She is a very old cat who likes to keep to herself. Spike is the complete opposite from Muffin. Aside from the fact that he’s a dog, Grandpa Joe’s dog to be more specific, he likes to make himself known to everyone around him. So as the story must always start, once upon a time in a humble house on Christmas day…..

Timothy wakes up, his eyes blurred, readjusting to his surroundings. He feels a heavy weight on top of his body; something is wrapped around his torso.  He blinks a couple of times and the blurred image slowly forms into his brother Steve. “Morning bro! Oh and Merry Christmas.” Steve’s fist flies into Timothy’s direction, slamming into his face with full force. Massive amount of pain shoots through his head, his nose suddenly goes numb. Timothy yells out in anger, “AHHHH! You stupid bastard, oh my god, what is wrong with you!” Steve un-straddles Timothy, pressing down onto Timothy’s stomach as he gets off the bed. Timothy rolls around on the bed in pain, holding a hand to his bloody face and curls up into the fetal position. Steve runs down the stairs yelling, “Its Christmas everybody!” His mother yells in the background, “calm down, shut your mouth, and get down here to eat some breakfast!” Steve’s foot moves to close to his other foot, forcing him to trip on the way down the stairs. His head slams into a nearby wall, with his body fumbling onto the ground after the severe impact.

The kitchen table was already set up, 4 plates on a circular wooden table, all accompanied with silverware and cups. Three of the plates had toast, eggs, and bacon on them. The other plate was a mish mash of already eaten leftovers by the father, Bob. He sat on a bar stool, the only item that seemed not to fit in the scene next to the other wooden chairs. His eyes were drawn to the newspaper, his one hand holding the newspaper up and in the other hand was burnt toast. His large, oddly shaped, horn rimmed glasses needed adjusting and so it seemed necessary to use the back of his hand to fix them, crushing the toast in his hand in the process. Crumbs fell all over his lap and his wife, Sheryl, bolts her eyes towards him. Too busy to notice her glaring, she walks up to him and angrily brushes the crumbs off Bob’s lap. Bob finally takes his eyes off of the newspaper and says “Oh, look who’s getting a little frisky this morning.” He winks at her only to be greeted with a slap in the face. Bob, with a confused expression on his face, rubs his cheek while Sheryl finally pours herself a glass of orange juice and sits down to eat.

Steve finally joins them; he stares at his mother in disgust. Her pink robe is opened up enough to expose her sagging cleavage. He continues looking down at her, noticing her legs open wide, her exposed thighs with the obvious stretch marks, and her feet which seem to have toe nails that haven’t been cut in months. He finally gets to tell his brain to stop immediately before he freaks himself out anymore, grabbing the wooden chair out to sit down in place. Sheryl speaks “Cut your hair already Steve. It looks stupid on you.” Steve doesn’t reply. Bob moves his eyes back to the newspaper and Steve starts to dig into his food.  The mother and the father jolt their head up as Timothy stomps down the stairs. His eyes are red and teary and blood stained tissues are lodged in his nose.  The father goes back to the paper and the mother eyes Steve chewing his food with his mouth open. “What?” Sheryl smacks Steve over the back of the head, causing him to spit out some of his food. “Stop messing with your little brother Steve!” She wipes her hand on her pink robe, he had already managed to gel his hair up.

Timothy plops down onto the last chair, crossing his arms and sinking onto his chair. “Eat your food and put some pants on after you eat honey.” Timothy grunts at his mother and starts to slowly eat his food. The father throws the newspaper onto the floor and starts to turn red. “I’m really starting to have it up to here with this stupid Economy.” He raises his hand into the air and then looks at Steve. “and I keep telling you, you need to start looking for jobs now so you can gain some experience. Nobody is going to hire a punk like you in this economy when you haven’t even had a single job yet.”
“I told you I’m going to try during the summer dad!”
“Well you’re not trying until there’s progress being done. And if there’s not progress being done then you’re not trying.”
“What the hell does that even mean?” Steve pushes his plate aside. Bob slams his fist onto the table, only to be met by a fork that he seemed to forget was there. It punctures his skin and he lets out a loud scream. The sudden noise scares the stealthy cat lying on top of the kitchen counter. It jumps off of the counter and accidently lands inside of the garbage bin. The boys at the table break out into laughter while Sheryl nods her head in shame.

         “Alright, enough!” Sheryl exclaims.  “It’s Christmas; can we as a family just be happy for once? Everyone just cool your tempers. Steve, stop hitting your bother, Timothy stop moping, your brother will be grounded, and Bob stop pestering Steve.  Now how about we all exchange gifts, surly that will get us to stop all this nonsense?” Everyone stares at each other in confusion and sudden shock. “Nobody here remembered to get each other gifts did they?” The room falls silent.  Bob speaks up “I left mine at work. Their throwing a Christmas party right now, I could go get it.”
“Well this is what we’re going to do; Bob you go get your gift at work, boys you go by something at a store. I already have your gifts so I’ll stay here and do some cleaning up. Everyone should meet back here at 5:00 o clock because we’re going to grandpa Joes for Christmas dinner.”
“Awwww not grandpa Joe. He’s smells like potatoes and kisses me on the lips all the time.”
“He does not Timothy! He’s got Parkinson’s; grandpa probably means to kiss you on the cheek. Now let’s get to it everyone, chop chop.”

         The table shifts out of place as everyone moves out of their chairs. The boys get dressed warmly ready to battle the winter cold while the mother walks into her bedroom.  A meow is heard in the distance, light scratching coming from the garbage can is muffled by the pack of people leaving the house.  As the mother listens carefully to make sure their out of the house, she slides her robe off of her and looks for something to put on in her closet.  As she puts on her bra she thinks to herself “now I actually have to get everyone a Christmas present. I’ll have to leave the house and get back earlier then 5 so they won’t suspect anything. Maybe there’s something here I can use as a gift.” Sheryl get’s down on all fours, rummaging around under the bed with her butt flailing in the air. A pile of item’s is scrapped up from underneath as she observes what she can use.  Piles of change, a coffee mug, some old toys, and some dried up cat stools were all that was there. Sheryl sighs, puts her hands on her waist and decides to go shopping after she puts some more clothes on.

         Bob walks over to his car and tries to open the door. The door handle seems to be jammed. He pulls on it with all his might only to have it rip off from the door, he falls backwards.  He throws the handle on the floor and kicks his car. He runs over to the passenger side and opens the door successfully from there, crawling into the driver’s seat. He inserts the key into the ignition and the engine stutters. Bob continues to turn the key but the car will not start. “Piece of junk.”  He climbs out to watch the boy’s chuckle as they make their own way to the store by foot. He quickly looks at Sheryl’s pink car, remembering how angry she was that one night he came home drunk and busted a light. There’s no way he’s even going to ask her, so with no time to lose he walks towards his work.  After a couple of minutes a soccer ball flies directly into Bob’s crotch. A little boy stands a foot away staring at the man in pain. “You little piece of shit!”
“Hey! You don’t talk to my boy like that.” An angry father pierces Bob’s eyes with his stare. He stands a couple of inches taller than him, holding a pit-bull on a chain leash next to a house. The angry father smirks “oops.” The chain is released from his hands and the pit-bull growls at Bob. The only thing that is going on threw his mind is “RUN RUN RUN RUN!” A bad move on his part, but he does it in an act of instinct. The dog winds up chasing him for a mile before ripping his pants on his left leg and returning to his master.

         The boys make their way to a convenient store. “You know bro; I understand we should participate in this whole gift thing. But they don’t give us a lot of money so I don’t know what they expect us to get them.”
“Well I made mom the macaroni shell Christmas card and she loved it last year.”
“That stuff’s gay!”
“Is not!”
“Whatever faggot.”
“Don’t call me that ass munch.” Steve pushes Timothy to the ground.
“Well you know what! I’m not going to get you a present.”
“Fine, not like I was going to get you anything.” The boys walk into the convenient store and walk towards the magazines. Steve eyes the Playboy magazine and takes it from the shelf. He scrolls threw the celebrity gossip magazines and slides that off into his hands. “There, something for dad and mom.”
“What about me?”
“You’re on your own bro, I aint getting you anything and Im not going to spend more money to have you get mom and dad gifts.”  Timothy starts to tear up. “I hate you! I’m going to find my own Christmas gift without you then.”

         With a big fat lie on Sheryl’s conscious she decides to book it as fast as she can to be home earlier then everyone else. She jumps into her car and it starts up with no trouble. She steps on the gas and backs out of the parking lot, drifting out onto the street. She speeds past a couple of blocks and starts to think of where to go. It was decided, a clothing shop would be perfect. Sheryl runs a red light and drives down the road passed the speed limit. In order to make her next turn she is forced to slow down and drift around a corner. Suddenly a little boy runs out onto the street. THUD! The left side of her car hits the kid, having him fly backwards. A deep pain shoots down into her stomach. “What have I done?” She speeds up again and looks into the mirror. “It was just an animal. Right right, no harm done. Couldn’t have been anything else. Now I’ve got to get those presents.”

         Bob walks into the office, observing all of the Christmas decorations and listening to the festive music playing. He makes his way to his cubical, only to find it empty. He sees his boss in the distance and walks up to him with concern. “Um, sir?”
“Yes, oh hey Bob glad you can make it to the party.”
“Yeah, unfortunately I’ll have to leave soon. I just came to pick up something I left in the office.”
“Oh no worries there. What happened to your pants Bob?”
“A dog ripped them off. But sir, I noticed that all of my stuff is missing.”
“Oh right right, sorry Bob you’re fired. Was meaning to tell you.” Bob stands there in disbelief as his boss continues to dance and mingle with people. With no gift to bring back home, he decided to sit down outside of the building and think about what has just happened.

         Timothy storms out of the store, running into the street. Before he could see it coming, a pink car swerves into him. The force knocks him on his back and the car speeds away. Steve runs out, “oh my god! That was fucking awesome!” He drags Timothy back onto the street. “Hey are you alright bro.” Timothy breaks up into tears.  “Come on; let’s get you to a hospital.” Timothy limps along the way, following his brother. He is scraped up and bleeding but the tears coming from his eyes seem to have stopped. The journey to the hospital didn’t seem far; luckily they live in a close knit community where everything you need can be reached by walking distance. They enter the building waiting to be checked up. Steve places the Playboy magazine and the magazine he got for his mother down on the table filled with reading material used to keep the seated patients, waiting to be checked up, entertained.  “Timothy!” A soft female voice rings out. Steve stares at her breasts in awe and follows Timothy to the next waiting room.

         Arriving at the shopping mall, Sheryl parks her car next to a minivan. Upon entering the store a man dressed as Santa  Clause rings a bell and shouts out. “Ho, ho, ho, merry Christmas! And please donate.”
“You’ve got some nerve. It’s the holidays and your asking for money?”
“Mam, these donations go to needy children all around the world.”
“Yeah right. Like I haven’t heard of all the scams going around. I know you work for these stupid companies that just take all the money for themselves and give the children 5% of what you earn, maybe even less. You should be ashamed of yourself.” Sheryl storms into the clothing store and walks towards the men’s isle. Her eyes dart up and down the sections of the store and cross over to men’s underwear and socks. She quickly glances at all of the colors of the socks and the sizes of the boxers, and shoves them into a nearby shopping basket. The socks and underwear were brightly colored and very festive. The socks themselves were striped red and green while the boxers had Christmas tree icons planted all over them. She patiently waits in line, pays for the item’s, get’s them bagged, and leaves the store. “Ho, ho, ho. Happy Holidays! Please donate.”
“Are you fucking serious.”
“Oh it’s you again.” With the tone in the Santa’s voice, Sheryl’s eyes open wide and she punches him in his stomach. The Santa falls to the floor and rolls around until he slowly gets up and breaths heavily. A group of children nearby start to scream and cry. “That lady punched Santa!” With no time to turn back Sheryl jogs over to her pink car and nearly runs into a nearby woman opening the trunk to her minivan. Her arms flail and her shopping basket falls next to another shopping basket about to be loaded into the minivan. “I’m so sorry; I’m just in a big rush.”
“No worries let me help you.” The kind woman picks up the shopping basket for Sheryl and places it on top of her pink car. She then loads up the remaining items in the other basket into her minivan. Sheryl oblivious in a state of panic throws the entire shopping basket into her car. She figures she had already gotten herself in enough trouble today, why would there be any need to return the basket to the store.

         Bob thought about the new and exciting careers he can take and got up to make his way back home. He continued to think about the future, he could probably find himself a better job, a higher paying job. There was nothing else in this world that could make his day any worst.  As he crosses the street a minivan is seen heading towards him. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” The minivan comes to a screeching halt, inches away from hitting him. “Watch where you’re going pal!” The woman in the car shouts at him. He gets out of the way and get’s to the other side of the street, waiting for the minivan to pass. As soon as the back of the car is facing Bob, he lifts up the middle finger towards her, noticing brightly colored, festive, red and green stripped socks hanging out of a bag through the cars back window. He walks away with his head down, now he’s depressed. There was something about that moment that crushed his high spirits.

         “The doctor will see you in a moment Timothy,” Said the nurse with the clipboard. “Thanks lady.” She walks out of the room with her hips swinging and closes the door behind her. Steve stares at her ass in awe. “Hey man you stay right here and I’ll be back”
“Do whatever you damn well please Steve!”  Steve runs out the door following the nurse. Timothy plays around with his thumbs and dangles his feet in the air, sitting on bench like seat, crackling the white sheet of paper underneath him. What seems like a century, Timothy starts to close his eyes, feeling woozy from the accident. The doctor finally comes by and stares oddly at the open door. “Why hello there Timothy,” says the doctor in a deep voice. “Hi!”
“What seems to be the problem?”
“Well I think I got hit by a car.”
“You think! Hahaha” The doctor lets out a laugh and his belly jiggles. “Well let’s just test you out to make sure that everything is alright.” The doctor pulls up a wheelie chair next to Timothy with a reflex hammer. “Let’s see how your reflexes are first.”  He taps the boy’s knee with the reflex hammer lightly. Timothy’s leg springs up and a crack is heard. “AHHHHH!” Timothy yells out in pain.
“Well there definitely seems to be some sort of injury obtained in your leg. Let’s test your blood pressure.” He lifts up Timothy’s left sleeve and wraps a sphygmomanometer around his arm. “Ouch, looks like you have a couple of scrapes on your arm.” He pumps the instrument on the sphygmomanometer and waits for it to inflate. His arm starts to leak blood from all of his open wounds. “Hmmm, well your blood pressure seems to be a little higher than normal but you must be nervous. Let’s check your ears.” He shoves an otoscope into Timothy’s ear. “Seems fine. Now your nose.” The instrument is shoved into his nose. “Well you’ve got some blood running along inside your nose so you’ve got to stop picking it with your finger. Well other than that you seem as healthy as a horse. Get on going home boy, here’s a lollipop, and have a merry Christmas.” Timothy stares at the doctor, a little more awake noticing the scruffy beard, yellow teeth, and a dirty ripped overcoat he is wearing.

         Sheryl finally gets home, shoving her car in the drive way and parking poorly. She grabs the entire shopping basket and carries it home, dropping it off on her bed. She throws her clothes off of her, un-straps her bra and has her breasts flop down onto the floor as she bends over to pick up the pink robe. “Shit I forgot! I told them I’d clean up the house before they got here.” After putting on the robe, she takes out the vacuum cleaner and starts to clean the carpets. Next came washing the dishes, cleaning the windows, and clearing a messy table. Meanwhile Bob opens the door to the house and slams it behind him. “Honey, I’m….home.” His voice trails off at the end of his sentence. “Awww Bobby bear, what’s wrong?” She presses her body up against his, gliding her hand across torn pant leg. “Something bad happened at work, as you can see my pants have also ripped.”
“Well is there anything I could do to make you feel better?”
“The kids aren’t home.”
“That’s right!” Sheryl slides her hand down his cheek and across his chest, planting a kiss on his lips. “So What happened at work?”
“Well I got fired.”
“You what!” Sheryl takes her hands off of Bob. “I can’t believe it.”
“Yeah  I couldn’t even get the gifts because they cleared my stuff and threw it away.”
“Well you should have worked your lazy ass a little harder at that job. What are we going to do for money now?”
“Don’t worry honey I’ll find someplace better. Let’s just deal with the holidays first.”

         The door bursts open as Steve walks in and Timothy limping his way behind him. Timothy uses the chairs, the kitchen counter, and everything he can grab to support his weight while he walks around.  As he grabs onto the garbage can, he loses his balance and shoves it in the other direction to keep himself from falling. The garbage can falls creating a loud smash and an angry hiss. The cat escapes the garbage can at last and runs outside of the door that was left open by the boys. “Look what you did now bro!”
“Shut up Steve! I’m glad you’re helping me out too.” The mother and father rush to the kitchen to see what all the noise is about. The mother shouts in panic “Oh my god what happened to my little Timothy?” He frowns and says “A car hit me.” She kneels down and holds his head, planting kisses all over his face. At the same time that pain hit’s her stomach again. “Hit by a car huh? I have no idea how some of those maniacs …get their license.” She briefly pauses, hardly being able to finish the sentence.  The father pitches in “well boys, did you get the presents?” Steve in excitement shouts “yeah, I did! Their…oh wait… I think I left them at the hospital.” The dad sighs “no worries there my boy. I couldn’t get anyone gifts either.” Sheryl puts her arms on her hips. “Well you see boys; this is exactly why you have to try to remember to get gifts before Christmas. You can’t just run around trying to get into stores, hoping their open, and wishing they have something that one of us might be able to buy. I hope you all learned your lesson not to forget next year. Now since I never forgot anything, I’ve got presents for all of you waiting in my bedroom.”

         The Osborn’s gather up in the bedroom that Sheryl and Bob sleep in. She takes the bags out of the shopping basket and throws the basket on the floor. “Now I know it’s not much, but I hope you all like it. I got something for everyone, if you don’t want to wear it, there’s no exception.  I want to see you in these comfy items and you better not throw them away.” Sheryl empties the bag onto the floor and everyone watches them hit the ground. A pair of women’s lingerie falls out, which seems to entail fuzzy black laced, see-through panties and a bra. A cucumber comes falling out next and a can of whip cream follows it. Everyone stares at the ground and then back up at Sheryl. Steve puts on a horrified face while Timothy stares at the items oddly wondering if he really needs to wear the clothing. Bob had a big smile on, only to remember that she said these gifts were also for the kids. “I can explain.” Sheryl wearily exclaims.

         Its 6:00PM, everyone is inside of Sheryl’s pink car. The kids are in the back, Bob is in the passenger seat, and Sheryl is driving towards Grandpa Joe’s place. They make it into the retirement home where he is located and take an elevator up thirteen floors to reach his door. Sheryl sighs and knocks on the door as loudly as she can. An old jittery voice shouts from inside. “HUH! Yeah, ok Ima commin. Hold your horses why don’t you.” Sheryl waits patiently but after a couple of minutes she decides to knock on the door again. “HUH! Oh my goodness, that startled me. I must have fallen asleep. Hold your horses, hold your horses ima commin.” The floor squeaks as he gets closer to the door. Sheryl turns around and says “I’m surprised that stupid dog of his isn’t hollering his brains out.”
“Who is it?”
“It’s your daughter. Open up.”
“What? A quarter?”
“Your daughter!!”
“My quarter? Is this some scam!”
“No! Its Sheryl dad, open the door, please.” Metal clinking is heard as grandpa Joe fiddles with the locks. The door opens and Sheryl holds it in place while Grandpa Joe turns around. “Well I was actually getting excited about that quarter but I suppose I can do without it.”
“Nice to see you too dad.”
“Hello Joe!”
“Hi grandpa!”
“Yeah, yeah, get yourselves seated around the table. This here turkey is almost done cookin.”
“Dad where’s Spike, he’s usually sticking his nose all over the place.”
“Oh you betchya he does, haha. Oh boy do I have some stories about that. Well hell if I know where that mutt has gone off too.”

Everyone grabs a seat; the head of the table is left untouched so Grandpa Joe can sit there. Sheryl is opposite of Bob while Steve is opposite to Timothy. Grandpa Joe opens the oven while the rest of the Osborn’s help themselves to some appetizers and drinks left on the table. A pungent aroma escapes the oven as he puts mittens on. “Yup, well the turkey’s good enough to eat.”
“Grandpa it stinks in here.”
“Yeah um, Joe, where did you get your turkey this month?”
“I got it where I always got it every single other year. Nothin different about this one.” Sheryl get’s up and walks over to the kitchen counter and peeks over it.  “Oh no! Dad you’ve got the turkey on the floor. It’s already thawed sitting there; I’m surprised you didn’t slip.”
“Hmm, well I thought I just peed myself again when I stepped in it. But there’s no way no how that’s the turkey because I got it right here in the oven. You sit down now.” Sheryl sits down worried. Grandpa Joe grunts and moans as he bends down to pick up whatever he had in the oven. He brings it over towards the family and everyone watches in disgust as he places it in the middle of the table. “Mommy, that doesn’t look like a turkey.”
“Fuckin sick bro, that’s Spike!”
“Oh lord!” Sheryl vomits, trying to hold some of it in with her hands. The rest of it spills onto the table and the floor. Timothy starts to cry. Bob speaks “Well Sheryl, your father has really done it now. This is the last god damn time I ever bring myself or any of the kids here ever again.”
“Bob! Don’t say that it was a mistake.”
“Your dad just killed the dog! He killed it for fucks sake!” Timothy continues to cry in the background, choking on his spit. Steve punches him “Shut the hell up!” This makes Timothy cry even harder. Sheryl screams in outrage “Steve for the last fucking time, stop hurting Timothy.” Bob gets up from the table and points at her. “There is no need to bring my son into this fight.”
“He’s our son Bob! Can’t you see what he’s doing to Timothy you prick?”
“He’s a pussy anyway.”

Timothy climbs up onto the table with a fork in his hand stabs Bob in the eye. Bob screams and puts his hand up to his face. Steve sees this and angrily rushes in, to tackle Timothy to the ground. Sheryl in panic takes the fork out from Bob, popping out his eyeball. A string is left attached to his head and Sheryl drops the work while Bob continues to screams out loud, swinging his eye from one side to the other. “You bitch!” Bob strangles Sheryl with his hands, as she tries to gasp for breath; she fumbles around the table and grabs another fork. She shoves it into his face, piercing his other eye. Bob lets go of Sheryl and waves his hands out in front of his face. “I’m blind! I’m blind. I can’t see anything!” She backs up into the table and a knife drops down near Timothy. During the fight Steve had been punching Timothy to a pulp. With rage building up over time, Timothy grab’s the knife that had fallen next to him and shoved it inside Steve’s stomach. He slices his stomach open downwards and starts grabbing at his insides. His intestines fall out and Steve starts to vomit uncontrollably onto Timothy. He then takes the opportunity to grab his own intestines and spin them around Timothy’s neck. Sheryl runs over to get Steve off of him but as she pulls his body upward, it brings Timothy up with him, his neck still being connected to Steve’s intestines. She pulls and pulls with all her might, dragging Steve’s body further towards the wall of the room and the two windows in the apartment. This only chokes Timothy further as he slowly stops struggling. But Sheryl tries one last time and the intestines comepletly rip out of Steve’s stomach.

The force of the sudden rip sends Sheryl flying backwards; unfortunately she was extremely close to the window and manages to fall out of it with Steve still in her arms. Timothy lay there motionless unable to breath while Bob continues to fumble around over objects he can’t see. Grandpa Joe walks over to his cabinet and pulls out a rifle. “I never liked you too much Bob. Sheryl always told me you complain about me behind my back.” He loads the rifle and shoots Bob in the head, the brain matter and chipped bone scattering against the wall. Grandpa Joe laughs to himself and then starts coughing. He pounds on his chest, grabs his chest in pain, and quickly moves from one side of the room to the other, trying to keep his balance. He slips on the blood and vomit that had formed on the floor and falls on his back breaking his hip and damaging his spine. During these unfortunate events, when Sheryl had dropped out the window, she had made a great distance falling to her demise. During this moment Steve had been let go and falling along side with her. At the same time their cat Muffin had escape the house long ago, making her journey to this very street. The cat looks up to see two bodies falling at high speeds towards her. The cat is crushed by the impact as Sheryl hits the ground.

This concludes the story of the Osborne’s…for now. Because sometimes Christmas miracles can occur, they sometimes do happen. Every once in a while a, what some might call magic or witchcraft is performed. We don’t want to end this story on a sad note and conclude that every single Osborn was killed on Christmas day. But instead time has reversed and the gifts for each of the family members were obtained and never forgotten.  The cat never fell into the trash and the dog wasn’t close enough to the turkey to be mistaken for one. The family exchanged gifts and was only slightly mad at each other. The visit to grandpas was annoying as usual but there was no big dispute. Until next time, the Osborn’s live again and another story can be told.
© Copyright 2009 PancakeMaster (pancakemaster at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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