Page 32 of Merry Christmas, You Filthy Animal
BKJ pauses for effect and then says, “Coming Soon.WithJoyful Ring Farm.”
Sherry gasps.
Tanya clutches her chest.
And I slowly mutter, “That motherfucker.”
I knew it.
I knew something was happening. I knew someone was trying to put me out of business. I just didn’t know the extent of it. Well, I hope everyone who didn’t believe me eats their words, because who is the fool now?
Not me, that’s for damn sure.
After we all let the news settle in, Cole asks, “But how is that possible? There’s a rule in Kringle. Businesses can’t overlap.”
“Correct,” BKJ says. “But that piece of property is just outside the town ordinance. Technically, it’s not a part of Kringletown but rather part of the county instead.”
And just like that, my stomach drops, everything becoming clear. The voices I heard. The plotting. The questions she wasasking. The snooping. The ability to nail someone square in the head with a soda with zero emotion at all.
She’s here to take over.
She’s here to destroy me.
Slowly, I turn to Cole, and I don’t have to say anything, because I can see it written all over his face. He nods. “You were right, dear. You were right.”
“Can we just go over this one more time?” Cole asks as he hands me a tin of chocolate-covered pretzels and popcorn in a white paper gift bag. “You’re going over there, knocking on her door, not peering in, and you’ll offer her the pretzels as a peace offering. You won’t accuse her. You won’t start a fight. And you most certainly will not go on a tirade about how she can’t start a farm next to yours.”
I take a deep breath and fix my winter hat on my head. “I’m aware.”
“There will be no mention of the farm. There will be no mention of her trying to destroy you. You are calm, cool, and collected.”
“I know.” I grip the straps of the bag tighter. “Trust me, I’m good at this shit.”
“I don’t trust you one bit,” he says. “Not even a little. I fear that you’ll get there and kick her door down, demanding answers.”
I scoff. “Unlike you, I know how to control my temper. I’m a smooth talker, okay? I can do this.” I flash my teeth at him. “Anything in my teeth?”
“You’re good.”
“What about my breath?” I blow at him.
He winces. “Eh, minty.”
“Good, I just downed ten Junior Mints. Forgot how good those little fuckers are. I still have some on the kitchen counter if you want a snack.”
“I’m good.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“Your loss.” I tug on my mittens hanging from my jacket and slip them on.
“Dude, mittens?”
I pause. “My mom made them for me. I have to use them at least once a year.”
“They’re attached to your coat. What are you, eight?”
