Word count: 1146
Prompt:- Minions have unique tastes when it comes to selecting "stocking stuffer" gifts.
Thanks, slobberpuppy for a fabulous prompt. I think I had the most fun with this one. And, of course, to sparky955 for her beta.
It had been a long time since Santa had been exceptionally good to any minion. Call it a side effect of their quest to work for the biggest villain in creation. Call it an unfair consequence of genetics. Call it what you will. It was reality that Santa rarely visited minions these days.
That meant that the task of filling stockings fell to one of their own and it was Kevin’s turn.
“Bah humbug,” he grumbled as he waited for the last minions to doze off.
Bob rolled over and stared at Kevin, too excited to sleep. Tonight he was going to help Kevin stuff Christmas stockings. He’d never been trusted to do it before and he was anxious to get started. He reaching down to pet Poochy, who curled up at the foot of the bed, a bright red ribbon decorating his neck. He was not a stupid rat. This gig meant three squares a day, a comfortable bed and affection. What rodent wouldn’t want that? Besides, he liked Bob.
“Pwede na?” He was so ready to get going.
Kevin made a face and sat up. “Bah,” he repeated. He jumped out of bed and headed for the very special, secret storage room where everything had been hidden. Of course, everyone knew it was there, but they hedged their bets that this just might be the year Santa visited and stayed out.
Bob, still in his onsie, clutched Tim, his tiny bear, close to him and followed. This was a brave new world for him and was just as frightening as when they’d left the cave for the first time or ran from Scarlet’s henchmen. Yet Bob was determined to take his place.
Kevin hoped it would be soon. He hated this. It wasn’t so much that he begrudged filling the stockings. No, it was the odorous task of finding things for them.
Instead of apples, he wanted to use bananas, which was counterproductive in itself. It took a lot of bananas and they tended to go bad beforehand, so they couldn’t be stored. After the fifth bunch, Kevin had quite lost his taste for the yellow fruit. This tended to color his love of Christmas.
However, the Internet came to save the day. It had been much harder in the olden days.
He unlocked the door and turned to the ever-hopeful and excited Bob. “Preparati,” he warned and pushed it open.
Instantly Bob was running and squealing at the top of his voice. He’d never seen so many bananas and some were so huge. He grabbed the nearest one and stuffed it into his mouth. Mistake, it was an umbrella and chose that moment to open.
Keven sighed and rescued him from it. The impact was immediately. Bob cowered behind Kevin, terrified, be it the clothes, the hooks, the storage containers and other evil banana things.
“Bi do,” Kevin apologized. He held out a banana ring to Bob. “Para tu!”
Bob’s eyes grew big and he hugged Kevin. ”Gracias!”
“Tidak apa-apa.” Kevin smiled at the smaller minion. “C’mon.”
Together they piled things onto a rolling cart and pulled it to where all the stockings waited patiently. At first, it was fun to pull something from Pile A and something from Pile B and stuffed them into each sock, but after a while, it was boring, then tiring, then practically impossible.
Kevin looked over to where Bob had collapsed. He knew the minion had not been up to the task, but he hated to disappoint his friend. Say what you will, Bob was a good friend. Kevin went over and covered Bob with one of the empty shopping bags and returned to his work. A banana storage box for Stuart and a small banana-shaped ukulele to replace the one Kyle had widdled on. A banana pen, a slicer and a banana pillow for Dave.
Kevin’s arms grew as tired as his eyes. He struggled two-handed to put the slicer into Scott’s stocking and then he toppled backwards. He’d never been so tired, so overcome with sleepiness. He managed to drag himself over to where Bob slept and spooned against him in order to share the cloth bag. Bob murmured, but didn’t wake up.
Santa looked down at the two sleeping minions. Bob really was the minion who broke the mold. He was kind, brave and compassionate. And Kevin, well, he was a bit of a pill, but it was obvious that he was fond of the little minion he snuggled up with.
Santa looked around at all the stockings and at the piles of gifts still waiting to be stuffed. It was a good thing he was who he was
They were caught in a stampede. Kevin ran past Bob, then snatched him up and ran even faster. He couldn’t stop now. He’d be run down by… Kevin paused. What was chasing them? He hazarded a look over his shoulder and saw minions, wave upon wave of minions.
He’d never finished the stockings… oh, well, this way they could pick out what they wanted. He yawned and looked up at the face staring down at him. He yelled and sat up, knocking heads with Stuart.
“Bi do,” he apologized as he rubbed his head. Expecting a blast of anger from his fellow minion, Kevin was surprised when the minion hugged him instead.
“Gracias!” Stuart ran off as Bob stirred and sat up, rubbing his eyes. Around them, their fellow minions were squealing in delight at the treasures they were discovering. There were gifts for all and bananas, sweet, tasty bananas, everywhere.
John ran up to Kevin, his fists overflowing with coupons to a local ice cream store.
“Gelato!” he cried and then ran away. All around them, minions were laughing and cheering. Some were singing and then stockings were thrust into Kevin’s and Bob’s hands. “Para tu y tu.”
Bob was so happy. There was a new collar for Poochie and a tiny sweater for Tim. There was a banana, another banana and some candy. He smiled then held out a stocking to Kevin. “You, too!”
Kevin looked at his stocking, puzzled. He’d not gotten anything for himself. There was a banana-shaped phone and some banana decorated duct tape. There was a cap with bananas all over it and there was a card. It merely had, thank you! written inside in an unfamiliar hand.
Kevin looked up as Gru approached, a large smile on his face. “You did a great job, Kevin.”
“Nada mi You, boss?”
Gru shook his head. “Me, either. I guess we will just have to chalk it up to the Christmas spirit.” He held up a box – a build-it-yourself bomb. “You want to help?”
And all was merry and bright… and banana scented…