A Politically Correct Christmas

Chris Hogenson
Period 4B
12/1/2013
A Politically Correct Christmas The sun was shining on my walk down to my uncle’s house. The weather was unseasonably warm for the end of December; it was global warming we were all doomed. Despite the warmth one small pile of snow remained on my uncle’s lawn from a past snow, a snowman that had been reduced from its former proud stature, now an evaporating pile of black slush. I stepped onto uncle’s front doorstep and tried the locked good. “Christ half the family is in there and they lock the door? The break-ins have been bad if a small army is afraid of a hooded guy and a lock pick.” After ringing the bell and waiting just long enough to become chilly in my shorts and T-shirt, my aunt opened the door. My aunt Pansy’s large frame almost over spilled out of the door as she opened it for me. She greeted me, and gave me a kiss that I will never forget because it is the most hair I have felt on a female before. I grimaced then mumbled a “Merry Christmas,” as I stumbled to the bathroom to throw up. After giving my warm regards to the toilet I greeted the rest of my family. There was my uncle Steve, who was a grizzled veteran from the Vietnam War, and I could see in his eyes part of him never left. My Aunt Lee SungFu a shrew old woman, who was married to Gary and mother of my cousin Charlie, whose house I was currently at was also there. Lastly, an assortment of other family member that would have little importance in the plot was hanging around the house.
After greeting the family I walked into the dining room, to see my uncle Steve setting down some mash potatoes at the end of a long buffet of food, and Charlie was at the other side facing his father with Aunt Lee SungFu towering behind him putting pig tales in his hair. I guess because she didn’t have anything to cook or clean. My Uncle Steve was eyeing Aunt Lee SungFu as he always did, for no other reason than racial profiling trying to figure out if she was a North or South Vietnamese, when in reality she is a second generation U.S citizen whose grandparents emigrated from Taiwan. Something about Uncle Steve was not right though. He was crouching behind the mashed potatoes glaring at Aunt Lee SungFu. She saw his eyes peering up at her and called over to him to see if he was ok. He answered “you no good bastard, Charlie, you murdered a whole platoon on good men” my uncle began to trudge towards his nephew Charlie, and my aunt Lee SungFu. “I watched Tex die in my arms, he was just a kid damn it” Charlie’s eyes were wide with fear, and my aunts…. Well they were as wide as they were getting. As his 6’3” ape of a uncle was on the war path Charlie was, I swear to god, shitting himself. The poor kid was crying by this point, humming “God Bless America,” and desperately waving the American flag he probably kept with him for when his uncle inevitably snapped. As my uncle passed the Turkey he ripped the legs off and probably thought they were combat knives, because in one fast motion he shoved his nephew away from Aunt Lee SungFu and had a drumstick to her throat. Charlie ran out of the room, most likely to change his trousers. Uncle Steve had a fire in his eyes, and I’m sure that he thought he was taking yet another “Commie” down when he slowly slid the turkey leg across my Aunts throat, leaving a greasy streak across her jugular. Aunt Lee SungFu had lost it at this point she curled up into a fettle position and began crying her eyes out. Private Steve saw her shaking and determined to kill her. He began beating her with the turkey legs. Aunt Lee SungFu’s

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