Part 2

Nightmare on 34th Street: A Xmas Grotesque

NIGHTMARE ON 34TH STREET: A XMAS GROTESQUE

Words + Music by Geordie McElroy

Part Two

***

Portia hosted at Koopman’s cafe

A rich, aggressive bunch

Muffy Von Klump and Luz De La Cruz

These the ladies who lunch

“Delish! This dish… simply divine!”

“Bold boreal terroir!”

Caribou tartare, pine resin wine

Chowing down reindeer raw

“Tell me where you found your Santa”

“The line is out the door”

“Parents love him, kids terrified”

“And they keep coming back for more”

“Oh him? He’s Koopman’s special sauce

Says his name is Ruprecht”

“Your glass snow globe is filled with dough”

“The man commands respect”

A parent lugged her screaming child

Ruprecht hushed in his ear

Then youngin’ turned a sickly shade

Silent, quaking with fear

“Mercedes, won’t you see to Alfonso

Luz’s newly adopted son

Fresh from Mali? Or was it Malawi?

Some dump from whence he comes?”

“Go take him to Christmas Village

To sit on Ruprecht’s lap”

Mercedes cried: “That’s not Santa Claus

He doesn’t wear a patch”

Portia feigned shame before the gals

“Mercedes don’t talk back

Alfonso doesn’t know any better…

…Santa is handicapped”

I always wanted to adopt

Open my heart and home

I’ve got that idiot Izzy

Won’t move out, full grown”

“Oh yes…” said Muffy, “…Isidore

We caught his performance

A shame he soiled your parade

And lost those endorsements”

Luz pointed to the globe and said:

“Charity has two forms

The kind l have for Alfono

The other type performs”

***

Dunn stewed in silent apartment

Countless beer cans crushed

A Christmas tree 13 years dead

Ornaments cloaked in dust

He stared at Portia Koopman’s name

And cleaned his .22

Perused surveillance photographs

Silencer clockwise screwed

Dunn studied the plans for the store

Swigged down Peppermint Schnapps

No sense in procrastination

When assassins are cops

Dunn got a call from foot patrol

The North Star life raft found

In a sewer deep beneath city streets

In Koopman’s part of town

Dunn saddled up and slugged down rum

One-forty proof cologne

Heading down to Portia’s store

Kill two birds with one stone

***

Izzy hung out in the warehouse

These were his type of folk

Honest work from sweat of the brow

Clearly thought him a joke

“Yep! I’m working security

Keep this ship sailing smooth

Justice is still my obsession

And schooling youths with truths”

The crew were busy with boxes

Had no time for lectures

Ignored the owners’ son’s babble

Hist trust-fund conjectures

Perrault came down from HR

On a search for Izzy

Wanting to speak about Ruprecht

“Excuse me are you busy?

“What do you think of Santa Claus?

I have my suspicions

Hired outside proper channels

Despite my opposition”

“We haven’t done a background check

Can Ruprecht work with kids?

That patch won’t make him handicapped

Despite what Portia thinks”

Izzy nodded in agreement:

“I’ll launch an inquiry

And get his drug test by tomorrow

I have my ways, you’ll see”

***

Noel emerged from a box unseen

Had to take it in twice

Forklifts, boxes, shelves and ladders

This must be paradise

So much brighter than the lighthouse

So much warmer than her cell

This was the place, warehouse heaven

Through store doors, conveyed on belt

The light so bright, displays dazzling

Glimmering fantasies

Surpassing all her North Pole dreams

Everything seen she seized

Noel grabbed a cashmere sweater

Brownies, bagels, cookies

With no idea what money was

Soon everyone looking

She snagged some boots and wide brim hat

Shoved her mouth with meringues

Portia spotted the burlap’ed waif

On walkie-talkie rang:

“Come in Izzy, Izzy come in

We need security

There’s poor children in Christmas Village

And please… Keep it discreet”

Izzy emerged from the staff room

Stashed the urine sample

Clocked Noel and made a bee-line

Children in between trampled

Just then Dunn arrived at Koopman’s

On Secret Santa quest

Followed Portia through corridor

An uninvited guest

Dunn was cool, calm, professional

No sound of hammer click

Just about to pull the trigger

When Noel screamed: “St. Nick!”

Dunn turned around for a moment

Took his eyes from target

The time he looked around again

The elevator door shut

Then Dunn saw the seal furred figure

His sights fell on the patch

The missing man from ghost ship found?

Were he and Portia attached?

How was he connected with Koopman’s?

Who was that girl shouting?

What was Secret Santa’s purpose?

Like that, Dunn was doubting

Then Noel tried to cut Ruprecht’s line

“I have to tell St. Nick…”

But Izzy grabbed her by the curls

Dragged her outside quick:

“Come back when you have money

It cost in this village

Moolah, cash, coin or platinum

Raised through work, fraud, pillage”

Izzy threw Noel to the curb

“…That’s the fool from the Parade”

Portia demoted him right then

To night watchman brigade

Dunn disappeared on 34th street

Melted into the crowd

How was everything tied in here?

Time to unravel shroud

***

Noel wandered through city park

Searched high and low for cash

Stumbled upon a wishing well

Shattered ice with a splash

Noel filled her burlap with pennies

Must be worth a fortune

Her treasure so shiny and bright

Shadows fell on the orphan

A gang of urchins gathered round

“What are you doing on our turf?”

“This is Street Rat territory”

“You rotten brat!” “The nerve!”

They were a filthy, desperate lot

With hair spiked up in mud

Their cut-off vests displayed their crew

With warpaint made of crud

“I need to get my hands on cash

I need to see St. Nick

I’ve got something he has to see

Will these coins make me rich?”

“Listen up you ignorant kid

That bum is not St. Nick”

“Only fools believe in that dreck

Is your skull extra thick?”

“Do you see all these protestors?

Each in suits of red?”

Noel dazzled by countless Santas

Each wishing Ruprecht dead

Street Rats led her into the sewers

Down into secret lair

“You’re about to wake from slumber”

“We’ll school you ‘cause we care”

“There is no St. Nick or Santa”

“There is only one God”

“It goes by the name of money”

“It runs this ball of sod”

"Everyone stealing all the time “

“No point in refusal”

“Everyone running a con or scam”

“Grift, finesse, bamboozle”

“They do it all for a dollar bill”

“The core, the foundation”

“It can buy happiness and love”

“It can buy salvation"

***

Dunn called Federal Agent Jones

To return a favor

Deep file dive into Portia

Find any cause to slay her

“Well if it isn’t Lt. Dunn”

Ivy Jones said

“Are you still protecting the city?

Is community dead?”

“By now you would have been running things

Our highest ranking fed

But rather than joining us here

You stayed local instead”

Just then Jones realized her misstep

Of course, Christmas season

This was not Dunn’s time for shining

The man had his reasons

Agent Jones discovered sealed file

On Portia Koopman

Open the the buried folder

Revelations blooming:

“Oh my, this is interesting

She was once a witness

Entered protective custody

Before the retail business

A Eurovision wannabe

From backwater Ukraine

Her boyfriend, Nick, a Volga thug

Before relations strained

Got his start as a smuggler

Caviar, blue jeans, arms

Then he turned to Slavic magic

Hypnosis, conjuring, charms

Things took a turn towards darkness

Business interests morphing

Portia, flipped, she ran, fearing his

New obsession: orphans

His whereabout mysterious

Gave Interpol the slip

Only she can ID him now

The shadow called: St. Nick”

***

The Street Rats led Noel underground

Deep forgotten station

Where city trash and refuse spewed

And death’s stench vacations

Above their heads a frescoed dome

A starry night fading

Village of tents along stone floor

Trash can fires blazing

They brought Noel to meet their chief

Queen Dolores the Great

Noel knew this girl from somewhere

She recognized her face

“Dolores?” Noel inquired

“Remmy told us you died

He said you were buried in the marsh

For failure to comply”

Dolores took Noel aside:

“I know where you have been

I have tattoo from St. Nick’s too

Escaped at age of ten”

“The Street Rats think St. Nick’s a lie

Tell me, what do you say?

Who runs the lighthouse school for girls?

To who’s icon did we pray?”

Noel plunked down, her head in her hands

“It’s all so confusing

Who are all those Santas outside

Protesting at Koopmans?”

“I can’t make sense of this new world

What’s with money’s appeal?

Why does everyone seem so mean?

Is St. Nick even real?”

“Of course he’s real, you stupid kid

The coldest thug in town

He uses that name to fool buffoons

Listen, I’ll break it down:”

“Every one of us is programmed

Taught what to think, believe

St. Nick already been sold to us

We’re set to be deceived”

“They’ve been lying to you for years now

You’re so near completion

And Nick needs you for his potion

Of fat and gland secretions”

“Terrible plans for orphan girls

He feeds on tender flesh

He slurps the life from out their veins

Drained until nothing’s left”

***

Dunn entered museum of hands

Coroner in the lobby

Thank you for meeting me down here

Sometimes memory foggy

They slunk into the sub-basement

Where priceless parts were kept

Passed corridors with glowing floors

And damp catacomb depths

Saw prosthetic silver arm

Lonely hand of glory

The lantern made of hanged man mitt

Makes thieves unseen the story

They passed a mercenary fist

Lost, made iron gauntlet

What seemed to be a Yeti paw

Subtle, didn’t flaunt it

“This is what I called you for”

Coroner said and stopped

He motioned to a filagreed case

Popped locks and opened box

“Last we spoke I was mistaken

About the strange M.O.

Once before seen flesh turned carbon

As captain’s, here you go:”

There they found a hand like onyx

Every inch of it black

Fist of Coal, 1393

Engraved upon bronze plaque

Discovered in a Ural marsh

Where East and West connect

After thaw on coldest year

Victim of Knecht Ruprecht

***

Blood splattered on Ruprecht’s seal fur

“Take that you terrorist!”

Activists infiltrated Koopman’s

Cheered by their therapist

Ruprecht’s seal was covered in carnage

No. Not even a blink

Just smiled and licked off his lips

"It’s much worse than you think”

***

Perrault sat across from Ruprecht

In the staff locker room

“I’d like to discuss your employment

We’ll get your furs back soon”

Ruprecht was dressed in his loin cloth

Covered in strange tattoos

Scythian beasts, curses, runes

Squatting with Narwhal flute

“Do you have a job history?

Reference of which to speak?

Papers to work in this country?

…Are you some kind of freak?”

“We’re gonna need a urine test

Last one deemed phony

Enough amanita in you

To kill a Shetland pony”

***

Down at the stables a problem

Ponies, horses missing

Predator escaped from the zoo?

Wolves seeking provisions?

Curious footprints found in snow

Boots about size 13

Ranch hands spotted an old man at night

In furs of seal he’s seen

They said they’ve watched him...