Next up is Vixen. Moral of this story is: Girls just wanna have fun.
Sponsored by Blogdramedy, each story will be about one of Santa’s reindeer and must be exactly 243 words long. Many other bloggers are taking part. The list follows the story, if you would like to check out other stories and compare.
Occasionally of a Friday night, Santa attended Happy Hour at The Deer Hall with Team Clause, and it happened he was there on a snowy March eve and spotted a lone doe at the bar’s end, blowing smoke at Moe the bartender from the 120mm Virginia Slim she’d just asked him to light. Vixen was her name, and having no opposable digits rendered her smoking a difficult habit to maintain.
After consuming a few Old Thumpers, it became necessary for Santa to take a trip to The Facilities, whereupon exiting, he approached Vixen as she drank her third Grog and Ginger.
I have seen, written upon the wall in The Facilities, to quote “For a good time call Vixen at 1-800-BadGirl”, whispered Santa.
Vixen lowered her false eyelashes, prepared for a sermon.
Enough of this, Santa said. The hoofpolish, the antler glitter. You’ve a nice rack there, no need to tart it up. You must come live a clean life, and be part of my Team Clause.
And so it came to pass that Vixen went to live in the Barn of Clause, and became well adept at flying and pulling Santa’s Sleigh with the other members of Team Clause who were all studbucks, except for Dancer who maintained a lifestyle which Vixen could hardly embrace.
Occasionally, a heady rustle could be heard in the wee hours in Vixen’s stall as she entertained various members of The Team.
Santa looked the other way.