Little scene from a 7 page short story, one of these days I'll get to the much needed edit/rewrite.
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"Mmm, babe. You know it!" Tan purred as she wrapped her arm around me as the snow continued to fall. We turned around, looked back over our shoulders and gave the vanishing crazed rabid ninja one last look.
Lady Blue wildly swung her balled fist into the air as she continued to follow the crazy jerky moose. The angry kunoichi snarled, “I killed you before, I’ll kill you again!” as she raced into an opening. The skillful ninja lost track of the moose as the snow fell harder; Blue looked around and saw a snowman standing in the middle of nowhere.
She blinked her violet eyes as she saw the snowman smile at her; she shook her pretty little blue head that was quickly piling up with white puffs of gentle snow. He continued to smile as his stick arm motioned for her to come over.
Behind the snowman a stood an old fashion drive thru movie wall; it turned to black as Blue neared. An HD movie with state-of-the-art surround sound began to play; Blue saw a tiny sleigh with nine reindeer flying through the dark skies, a US Navy fighter with forward swept wings was escorting the sleigh as The Trans-Siberian Orchestra’s Sarajevo 24/7 began to ominously play. Suddenly she heard my desperate voice over a menacing tone, “Santa! Can you get Rudolph to turn off his nose?”
“Sorry lad, he can’t,” Santa replied just before my HUD (Heads Up Display) turned a deep crimson red.
“Missile warning, Missile warning,” a soft voice repeated over in my helmet as the words blinked on my HUD.
“Incoming!” I thundered and pulled my F/A-39 Crusader II into a sharp turn away from Santa; the nimble fighter belched flares and a chaff cloud as it raced away from Saint Nick. The QSAM (Quick-maneuvering Surface-to-Air Missile) locked onto my nimble fighter and streaked away from the Jolly Ol’ Elf and his reindeer.
“Doom must really be peeved at me,” I thought as I experienced chest crushing G-forces. I huffed and grunted as the deadly missile neared; my bird shrieked as she continued to turn tighter than her engineers designed her to. Cold air vortexes formed on her wings as she continued her conga dance with Doom’s bucket of coal.
The naughty missile started to sputter; it slowed down and drifted off course. It belched a couple puffs of smoke, seconds later it burped once more before plunging towards the Earth. I didn’t have time to celebrate; another one took its place.
My Crusader came around in front of Santa and the boys; a pleasant ringing tone was intermingled with the “Missile Warning,” that echoed in my helmet. It was so intermingled that I didn’t hear it at first, but when he heard it, it was sweet: My bird had locked onto the Eastern European defense site.
A sleeping AGM-88 Harm missile dropped from my weapon’s carousel; it awoke and blazed a fiery smoky path down to the earth. It gave the defense installation the kiss of death; it disappeared into a fiery fireball that could be seen for hundreds of miles in the cold air.
“ALL CLEAR SANTA!” I jubilantly shouted.
“Thank you Ryan,” a relieved Santa smiled, “By the way, you’ve never told me what you wanted for Christmas.”
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