No More Mr. Nice Guy

It was Christmas Eve. Arthur Scrude sipped a glass of egg nog, lightly laced with rum and ruminated as he was wont to do on such occasions. He went through a mental check list. Christmas cards all mailed out, Christmas gifts wrapped and sent. He had given generously to all the Salvation Army Bellringers although generous was a relative term. He had made good money during his lifetime but three divorces had reduced his financial resources considerably.

Earlier in the day he had done his two hour stint at the public radio station reading from the newspaper for their special broadcasts for the blind. Then he had visited a hospice client who was near death's door and badly in need of company on Christmas Eve. He had concluded the evening with attendance at the candle light service at church with his chaste girlfriend, Christine. He had, as he always had, done his part to celebrate the true spirit of Christmas. He rinsed out his glass, folded his clothes carefully and went to bed. His last thoughts were, "I love Christmas."

He woke up with a start, feeling an icy hand upon his shoulder.

"Arthur wake up, wake up Arthur," said a raspy voice.

Arthur looked around in confusion. The illuminated dial on his bedside clock said one a.m. In the almost total darkness of his bedroom he could see a man, at least he thought it was a man, sitting by his bed.

"Who is it? How did you get in here? What do you want?" he cried out.

"One question at a time, if you please," the man said "but first I have a question. You are Arthur Scrude of 1225 Mistletoe Lane, Santa Claus, Indiana?"

"I am," Arthur said thinking it had been a grave mistake to add that rum to his eggnog.

"Good," the man said, "our record keeping ain't always up to snuff and I'd hate to waste my time on the wrong guy."

Arthur shook his head and rubbed his eyes trying desperately to wake up.

"You haven't answered my questions," Arthur said, as gruffly and sternly as he could manage.

"Okay, okay, here's the scoop. I am the Ghost of Christmas way way back. How I got in here is a trade secret and it ain't a question of what I want or you want it's what's gonna happen. If I had my druthers I'd still be at the office Christmas party but the boss has this thing about Christmas Eve. Probably comes from reading too much Charles Dickens. Dickens, Schmickens, what a butt hole he was."

"Oh my God," Arthur said, "I must be dreaming, please tell me I'm dreaming."

"You ain't dreaming, Arthur but fasten your seat belt cause in about three seconds we're gonna be flying." With that the ghost grabbed Arthur's hand with one hand, snapped his fingers on the other hand and they were air born.

"Where are we going?"

"Back to the past, Artie, way way back cause that's my beat."

Suddenly Arthur and the Ghost were in a bedroom which looked very familiar. On the bed a man and woman were making love and they looked very very familiar.

"Oh mercy," Arthur said, "this is the bedroom of the house in Riverdale and that's me and my first wife, Jeanine. Can they see us or hear us?"

"Nope but shut up and listen and learn."

Arthur watched in amazement as his wife, make that ex-wife, Jeanine lay on the bed with her legs spread wide apart and himself, his much younger self, lapped eagerly at her pussy. Jeanine moaned and groaned and bucked and heaved and had a righteous orgasm. Young Arthur smiled and said, "Did you come?"

"You know I did, Arthur and thank you very much," Jeanine said.

Arthur moved toward her, waddling like a duck on his knees, holding his erect cock in his hand. Jeanine looked at it disdainfully and said, "Arthur don't even ask."

"But Jeanine," Arthur said, "it's Christmas eve. I thought maybe just this once"

She interrupted him and said "I don't care if it's Christmas Eve, Christmas Day or the second coming. There's no way I'm sticking that thing in my mouth. Now go ahead and finish up like you always do."

Young Arthur said, "Okay" and moved between her legs, found the slot with no help from her, rocked up and down for a little while and then came. Then the vision began to blur and fade away and Arthur was alone with the Ghost.

"Pathetic," Arthur said, "just pathetic."

"Your words, Artie my boy," said the Ghost.

"But what could I do or what could have I done?"

"You might have tried to be more forceful, more assertive, more of a man. You know she enjoyed sex but only sex her way so you went along to get along and after a while you started looking around. And, against all odds, you found some bimbo who would cop your knob."

"Marlene," Arthur said.

"Don't interrupt me, I know what her name was, is. I also know that Jeanine took your ass seven ways from Sunday in the divorce court and you strained your relationship with your two children. It could have turned out differently."

"What do you mean?"

"Oh man, she might have liked licking your weanie once she got used to the idea but you didn't force the issue," the Ghost said.

"But that's not my style."

"Ain't that the truth."

"Now I suppose we're going to see Marlene," Arthur said with a catch in his throat.

"Not my territory," said the ghost, "I'm the Ghost of way way back and Marlene was just way back. Maybe the next guy will take you there. Not my problem."

"How many Ghosts will there be?"

"Pay attention Artie. Not my territory. I don't make assignments but there's usually more than one. Now, listen up, you're going to back into a deep sleep until the next guy comes along but you will remember everything we've seen and everything I've said. You'd better remember or I"ll come back and kick your sorry puny ass."

Arthur was dreaming about Jeanine licking his balls and cock when he was awakened by a cold breath in his right ear. A soft voice said, "Living in a fantasy world aren't we my friend, Not a good place to be although admittedly it's sometimes pleasant."

Arthur turned his head to see another indistinct form by his bed.

"I guess I know who you are," Arthur said.

"I am the Ghost of Christmas way back. I take it you've already met the Ghost of Christmas way way back so I can eliminate most of the preliminaries. Take my hand."

They floated up and out into the darkness and Arthur said, "You seem nicer than that other guy."

The Ghost said, "That's just his style. The first Ghost always has the hardest job and it tends to make him irritable but given time he may move up the ladder."

Suddenly there were hovering under the ceiling of a moving automobile. Arthur immediately recognized it as a Chevrolet Monte Carlo he had once owned. His wife, make that ex-wife, Marlene, was driving as she always did and listening to Arthur complain. Arthur remembered the incident painfully. They were on the way home from her office Christmas Party where Arthur had seen Marlene and her boss brazenly making out on the dance floor.

"So what if everybody saw him feeling me up," she said, "Everybody at work knows he's fucking me."

"But..."

"Don't interrupt me. If you hadn't been such a pussy in your divorce I wouldn't have to work but by God since I have to work I'll do anything I can to get ahead or to give head," Marlene said with a bitter life. "And guess what, chumpo, he fucks me in my tight little ass, something you refuse to do."

"But,"

"Shut up and listen. Now that you've got me started let me finish. Here's the deal. He likes my tight little ass and my great big tits so much that he wants to marry me."

"But"

The scene slowly began to fade away and the Ghost said, "Arthur, Arthur, Arthur. It seems to me that a bit of sodomy might have saved that marriage and avoided another costly divorce."

"But that's not my style. I've never done that. It seems so, so unpleasant and unhygienic and uh, forceful," Arthur said.

"There you go again, Arthur, not your style. How would you know if you've never tried it. It is, after all, just another orifice and if the lady requests it how can a man refuse? Do you see a pattern here, Arthur?"

"I know, I know, be more forceful, more aggressive."

"Exactly. Now you're going to back to sleep and, never mind, you know the drill."

Arthur was dreaming about fucking Marlene in the ass, fondling her pendulous breasts and feeling her respond. She was thrusting herself back against him shouting, "Fuck me Daddy, fuck me, fuck your baby girl in her tight little ass!"

In his dream Arthur was deciding that sodomy was pretty good when he woke up to feel a cold hand on his hard cock and a voice saying, "Enjoying yourself, Arthur? Fucking Marlene's tight little ass?"

Arthur came awake almost instantly and said, "How did you know what I was dreaming?"

"Ghosts know lots of things, Arthur, lots of secret things but let's not waste time. You know why I am here."

"To visit Glenda."

"Close but no cigar. Come with me."

Away they flew and this time they hovered over a patio. Arthur could see himself being harangued my his ex-stepdaughter.

"Not her," Arthur said.

"Yes her," said the Ghost, "sweet Darlene, the stepdaughter from hell, the one who broke up your last marriage. We don't need to tune in on the conversation. It's one you had with her many times."

"I remember," said Arthur, "she was always on me to change my politics, change my religion, take off my shoes every time I went into her house, no eating anywhere but the kitchen, stop visiting pornographic websites, yada yada yada."

"She really ran your life, didn't she Arthur."

"Yes," Arthur said with a sigh, "and eventually she ran me off which was what she wanted all along."

"But you had a way to change things, didn't you."

"You know about the pictures?"

"I told you that Ghosts know a lot of secret things. Weren't you paying attention. Yes, the pictures. The pictures you found by accident in Darlene's garage. The pictures of Darlene fucking their preacher."

"I remember," said Arthur, "I wish I'd saved some of them."

"Save them? Arthur you could have used them. You could have gotten Darlene off of your back and probably into your bed if you'd just been more forceful."

"But that's not...."

"That's not your style. Yada yada yada. Arthur you sound like a broken record."

Arthur shuddered and tears began to well up in his eyes. "Tell me Ghost, am I destined to spend the rest of my life like this, letting other people run over me, take advantage of me?"

"I know a lot of things, Arthur, but I can't foresee the future."

When Arthur awoke again he was alone in his room. He looked around the room. No ghosts. He reached for the TV remote and fired up the Magnavox. The weatherman said, "It's going to be a fine Christmas Day." Arthur turned off the TV and got out of bed. While he showered he thought about the visions of the night before. Had it all been a dream? Was his life really as pathetic as it seemed? Could he change and rearrange?

Arthur walked to his closet and instead of reaching for his suit he grabbed a pair of sweat pants and a sweatshirt. He put them on, picked up the telephone and called his girlfriend, Christine.

"Hello," Christine said.

"Christine this is Arthur."

"Good morning sweetheart and Merry Christmas," Christine said. "I want you to get here as quick as you can and wear that nice grey suit. We're going to Mummy and Daddy's house for brunch."

"No we're not."

"We're not? But we always go to Mummy and Daddy's house for Christmas brunch."

"Not this year. We're going to stay at your house and fuck."

"What, what did you...."

"We're going to fuck and suck and play all day. Get out your video camera and your baby oil while you're at it. I'll bring the Viagra."

"My goodness, Arthur..."

"You'll need the baby oil because I plan to fuck you in the ass."

"Arthur, what's got into you?"

"It's not what's got into me it's what's going to get into you all day in every orifice."

There was silence at the other end of the telephone line and then Christine said, "Hurry over here Arthur. My pussy is positively dripping."

"Good," Arthur said. "Phone Mummy and Daddy and tell them we're not going to make it for brunch."

"Fuck Mummy and Daddy," Marlene said, "I'm taking the phone off the hook and waiting here on my bed with my legs spread ready for my horny handsome stud to fuck my brains out."

"I'll be there in a few minutes," Arthur said and hung up the telephone. He strode forcefully out of his apartment and onto the street. On the way to the parking garage he passed a plump, matronly woman in a Salvation Army uniform.

The woman smiled at him and said, "We're accepting last minute donations to help provide a goose for Christmas for needy families."

Arthur glared at her and said, "Goose? Goose? You want a Christmas goose? Just raise your skirt, drop your drawers and bend over and I'll give you a Christmas goose."

"But," she said, "it's Christmas."

"Christmas?" Arthur said. "Bah humbug!"