God, I hate grading essays. The sound of the game’s announcer filtered back through her thoughts. ‘This brings Zimmerman up to ten goals for the s...ason,’ he said and Anna looked up in time to see the cameras pan towards the Red Wings bench. They zoomed in on a bearded man with bright eyes and a perpetual smirk. Anna stifled a sigh and looked away before her usual fantasies could take over. She loved hockey almost as much as her son, at least he came by it honestly. Since living in St. Clair. "I need to get seriously drunk!" June thought as the approached the miniature alpine house, set in the mall's main courtyard, that served as Santa's workshop.June changed her mind when they the house. "No, I need to get screwed." She decided.June and company finally arrived at their destination, jolly old Saint Nick, sitting in a large throne-like chair. By this time, June had become more explicit in her wants, "I need to get fucked. Seriously fucked." She thought to herself with. More

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