Ladies and gentleman may I have your attention for a moment please

First, I must apologize for screaming. I am hard of hearing in my old age. My bones hurt, it's hard to wipe my ass, I have no teeth. Please bear with me or maybe you'll want to bare with me.

Pepsi places his flask to his mouth and takes a long drink. He then looks down to find himself very impressed with the growing crowd before him. He is feeling a little more relaxed seeing familiar faces

Here is what's going to happen. Listen closely because at my age I will not be able to say this twice. We are going to get into the spirit of the holidays with the help of Gangster Elf! You ask who in the hell is Gangster Elf? I have no fucken clue. All I can assure you is that on December 23rd soon after the days end, we are getting fucking presents. Imagine that! Here's the thing though. The little fucker wants us to tell him a Christmas and New Year's story. He doesn't give a shit what you write about as long as it is not inflammatory/derogatory. I know, somewhat of a demanding little prick. Right? In addition, it is his wishes your story would be in 300 words or less. A bit odd of a request, wouldn't you agree? 

Pleased to see the crowd continuing to grow he closes out the announcement

Your story must be submitted by the days end December 23rd

Your story must be about Christmas or News Years in 300 words or less 

The contents cannot be inflammatory/derogatory 

Pepsi turns to walk away and suddenly he remembered he forgot to mention one other request the Gangster Elf insists must happen. The dress attire must be in your underwear. I say he is a freak, but he claims that he is having a hard time deciding on boxers or briefs. 

Sounds like an awesome idea Pepsi-Cola, I'm glad to see someone other than the same old names in the street promoting participation and inclusivity. In order to help promote your Gangster Elf Christmas Story telling jamboree, I will donate $25,000,000 to the gift fund. Your choice how you'd like that transfered to you, you can have 50 credits or $25M in cold, hard cash. That way you could reward 25 story tellers with 1 million each, or 10 story tellers with 2.5 million each, thats up to you to decide good sir.

Plus, in the spirit of Christmas, I'd like to call on the other kind hearted folks of Mafialand to dig deep and contribute to the prize fund. Perhaps in the spirit of christmas we can generate a truly massive gift fund and have more than a handful of folks participate. I may even write a story myself.

A question if I may. It says must be about Christmas or New Years. What about Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Boxing Day or even the Pagan Solstice?

Easy enough to answer. If you were boxing on either holiday, then write about it. I ask if anyone has any further questions, please forward to my box. 

"I heard a story once..." Sammy said from the back of the room.

The mopar station was always dead this time of night, but the fact it was Christmas Eve made the place an absolute ghost town. The holiday season had been rough for Jack since he got back from the war. Just a few years ago he was jumping out of planes over the allied front. Now, he worked two jobs hoping that would be enough to keep him and his wife out of the every growing breadlines. Hell, he still had to figure out how he was going buy presents for John and Sara, his two children. But such was life…

DING… rang the service bell.

“Damnit, why...” he mumbled to himself as he pulled his coat on walking out to the pump to service the would-be customer. Approaching the vehicle, he couldn’t help but notice the shine of the Red Alfa Romeo 6C 2500 Freccia d’Oro that pulled into pump two. Being a gearhead himself, he had only read about the car in magazines.

“Hello there, sir. What can I do for you today!” he said with a positively forced attitude.

“Top her off for me, will ya?” replied the man.

“Certainly, sir.” He said reaching for the nozzle. He filled the car up, slapped the rear fender and approached the window once more. “That will be $1.63, sir.”

“Here ya’ go. Keep the change.” The man said handing over a $100 dollar bill.

Jack couldn’t believe it. That was more money than he would make this month.

“Thank you so much sir! I don’t know what to say!”

But as he looked up, the car was gone. Jack hadn’t even heard it pull out of the lot. Had he gone mad?

“What the hell...” Maybe Christmas miracles really do exist, he thought to himself.

After being placed in jail and falsely accused of plagiarizing the Birth of the Lord Jesus Christ, Cookie came back with another story to tell.

"As I lay in bed my mother come up the steps of the feeble wooden house with the bible in hand, glasses pinned to her eyes and a smile on her face.  She opened the door to the bed room and began to sin in the chair adjacent to my bed.  She looks me in the eyes and with a soft voice says 'Cookie, one day you will be persecuted for the name of Christ, but this is what the bible says about it.   

She looks down at the beautiful leather book in her hands, clearly warn from use and age, she proceeds to open the cover.   With a wide smile, she flips the pages in search for the Scripture she was looking for.  She finds it and begins to read it aloud for me. 

James 1:2-4 Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing. '

She closes the book and gets up, walks away, closes the door and leaves the room.   I think about this momentarily before I let it sit in the back of my mind, then fall asleep before confessing under my breath that JESUS IS LORD "

Cookie gets up off the chair he was sitting in and declares his retirement. 

"Matthew 7:6 “Do not give dogs what is holy, and do not throw your pearls before pigs, lest they trample them underfoot and turn to attack you. "

Dec 24 1914 03:45.

Somewhere between the city of Kars Turkey and the abandoned city of Ani presently claimed by the Free Armenian Congress.
With a week to go till his 15th birthday Revenant isnt really celebrating. Last week they came upon the city of Ani only to find it abandoned. As they began to search the streets they came upon a horrifying discovery. Dotted all over the city were the remains of large bonfires. No not bonfires he thought with a growl, the population of Ani were murdered by the Ottomans and burnt in piles with rubbish and whatever possessions they had the Turks didnt want. Yet another travesty in whats being called the Armenian genocide.

Yesterday the group of Fedayeen he was attached to harassed the 92nd Regiment of the Turkish 31st Division. They led them to believe the troops of the 32nd Division marching ahead were the Armenian and Russian forces. For four hours the Ottomans shelled their own troops killing over 2000. Tonight, he pauses and scans the area of the horizon they have been watching. Suddenly the branches rustle and a trio of weary Ottoman scouts appear. 

Revenant doesnt think of their suffering, he doesnt give one thought to their families or if they have children. He thinks of how many tiny skulls were in that bonfire. With a groan and a look of total dispair the three men drop to the ground. 
As the Morningstar comes into view through the early morning mists and snowflakes still spinning round the breeze.  Revenant thinks of his people being killed for their faith.  He thinks about the savior whos birthday we celebrate as Christmas tommorow. 

And a tear escapes his eye as he softly sings in German with his mind also providing the English translation. 

Stille Nacht, heilige Nacht                                        Silent Night, Holy Night
 

A Castle for Christmas.

Mickey Haller had just flown back from Scotland, he'd spent a week there on holiday and buying real estate. Although in this case what he had purchased was a Real Estate. He'd met Albert, Earl of Rosebery in New York a few weeks ago, and ended up being offered a most enticing business opertunity, the option to buy a castle. Well technically it was more of a Gothic Rivival country house, but to most Americans it was most definately a castle.

After a week in charming Dalmeny, just Northwest of Edinburgh, on the Firth of Forth, £3,000,000 had bought him the 18th Century Country House known as Dalmeny House, and 1,829 acres of arcitechtural features, including 8 Gatelodges, Barnbougle Castle, Stables and a walled garden, as well as parkland, woodland, Tennant farms and an Arboretum built by Alberts Father, the 5th Earl. As well as the leasehold for the Village of Dalmeny and its 186 resident's homes. 

Right now Mickey was on his way home from Wayne County airport in the back of his Lincoln Towncar, carefully rereading the legal documents for his purchase. At the moment his $15 million was sitting in escrow for another 12 days. Mickey or Albert had until 23:59 on the 24th December to pull out of the deal, after which time it was complete. Mickey started smiling, he hadn't really paid attention to the Completion date during the conveyancing process. The smile turned into a chuckle, the chuckle became a laugh. Mickey haller had just bought himself a Castle for Christmas... lets see the fat cunt get that down the chimney.

"Before becoming an accomplished poet, teacher, gangster, and organiser of writing contests, a famous man, Mr_Keaking, fought with the US army, in the trenches, in 1917. 

But before that, he was a journalised, embedded with the conscripted British army, the "Tommies."  

It was there that Keaking spent a Christmas that would change his life forever.  Across the trenches, on Christmas day, peace spontaneously broke out.  The British faced the Germans, implacable enemies, like our Mr_Keating and Lincoln_Lawyer, except that the Germans, whilst ferocious gun-men, never lowered themselves to making allegations about sex-work and the mothers of their rivals.

No, the Germans had honour.  They were a formidable opponent.  And they respected us, as we respected them.

Even when they killed a simple lad from the next village to me, BostLoy, we still managed to maintain a degree of autonomy.

So when the Christmas truce came, we enjoyed our time with the Germans.  I told one of their officers about BostLoy, and about how one of his snipers had blown the simple lad's brains out.  He went away, and presented me with a Christmas hamper, which was first prize in a writing competition they had been running.  I wondered why they'd been relatively quiet lately, and this explained why.  There had been something approaching a mutiny when it was revealed that the first prize was being awarded to someone who hadn't entered the contest, but the officer had managed to quieten the men down.  

The German officer talked of how they had recently endured more casualties during a particularly heated writing competition, and that a return to endless running across no-man's land into barbed wire embankments and heavy machine gun fire was considered something of a plum role for his men who had grown used to assassination during the contests.

Keaking had a vision: that if two Imperial powers who conscripted the poor and uneducated to fight for their respective empires, then perhaps, he, Keaking, could use the lessons of the Christmas ceasefire and return to the organised crime ridden streets of America.

This is what he did!  Happy Christmas!"

Well Well Well!! Isn't this cool?!?! A contest named after MEEEE!! Times is running out to submit an entry! 

Christmas or New Years in 300 words or less! Come on people! You can easily beat these! Just wrap your story in Christmas cheer or New Years activites and win this thing!

OKAY OKAY!

SO I'VE BEEN TOLD THIS ISN'T A CONTEST. IT'S A PARTICIPATION PRESENT EVENT! YOU PARTICIPATE AND YOU GET A PRESENT. EVERYONE WINS. 

WITH THAT SAID, I'D LIKE TO HAND OUT MORE PRESENTS AND SEE MORE CHRISTMAS AND NEW YEARS SUBMISSIONS.

In light of the holiday season, I am going to extend this event for two hours.  

A Christmas in Winterfell

Sansa would constantly hear the phrase "Winter is coming", this normally made her sigh. The phrase was well known in Winterfell and had been spoken of for many years. Sansa hated the phrase as it always spelled doom and gloom; but Sansa loved Winter. Nothing made her happier than seeing Winterfell covered in Snow, white on the ground as far as the eye can see. Building Snowmen with her brother Robb and dad Ned - even having the bastard Jon join in couldn't spoil her fun.

Of course Winterfell didnt celebrate Christmas, but Sansa did. In the North they celebrated the old Gods, but Sansa had once met a man from Dorne who told her the story of the baby Jesus and the yearly celebration of his birth, so every year she made an effort to trick the Starks into celebrating with her. It wasn't hard, really. Her dad loved any excuse to have a feast and drink.

There was one Christmas in particular that would live long in her memory, though. The Christmas spent all day alone with her dad. Her mother had went to the Riverlands to visit the blackfish, her uncle. She'd taken her siblings and all the help with her so only Sansa and her Dad remained in Winterfell. He spent the day teaching Sansa how to ride a horse, shoot a bow and swing a sword - tasks normally reserved for boys. Her sister would be so jealous as she always wanted to be treated like a boy, normally Sansa would have hated doing tasks like this, but not today. On this day she got to be the center of her fathers attention and that almost never happens, it's a busy job running the North of Westeros and raising kids is always left to his wife.

From that day on, Sansa always looked forward to celebrating Christmas and hoped for another day on her own with her father.

Time is up everyone! We are going to talk amongst ourselves and start handing our presents! We will be with you shortly!

Congratulations to all participants. In the spirit of the Holidays, we have thrown the 300 word rule out. The only rule we applied was the no inflamatory or derogatory one. With this in play, we have awarded cash to all and gifted a few things as well.

We appreciate all the participants

Merry Christmas everyone!

I would also like to thank the participants and The_Gangster_Elf for your participation in this holiday event. Also, thanks to those who reviewed this event and gave it a thumbs up. (tips) 

Happy holidays to all.  

Despite the poor turn out, this was thoroughly enjoyable and I was happy to sponsor it

Your sponsorship was greatly appreciated. Thank you Sir!