Page 50 of How My Neighbour Stole Christmas
Max squeezes my shoulder.
My breath stills in my chest.
My hands turn incredibly clammy.
“No matter what happens, don’t forget to smile,” Max says through clenched teeth.
And…
“Storee Taylor!” Bob yells.
Mother…
Fucker!
An eruption of cheers rings through the room as I glance over atStoree, who stands there blinking in shock and…are you fucking kidding me? Cindy is standing from her wheelchair, Taran holding on to her, whooping it up like she just won the two-hundred-meter freestyle against Michael Fucking Phelps.
Is anyone else seeing this?
She was clearly faking it.
Frank, Thachary, they played you!
The once-gray corpse in the wheelchair has resurrected herself into cheering so vivaciously that…yes, in fact, she is performing minute hip thrusts, to the crowd’s delight.
Cheaters!
They’re freaking cheaters.
What lowlifes, using an old woman’s infirmity to win a competition.
Even if the old woman was certainly in on it the whole time.
“Clap, man. You have to clap,” Max mutters.
Even though I hate it, I reluctantly put a smile on my face and clap.
But I don’t just clap. I clap loud.
Loud enough that I feel Max wince next to me.
And then, in a boisterous voice, my alter ego, Snow Daddy, appears. “Well deserved, so well deserved. What a great competition and start to a lively holiday season.”
Bob Krampus nods at me in approval.
Frank and Thachary congratulate Storee.
And I take it all in, revising my plan for total domination.
We’re not going to lose like this. Nope. If they’re going to pull out all of their tricks…
So are we!
CHAPTER NINE
Storee
They thought they were so smart; they thought they were slick.
