Horny earmuffs and Xmas sweater with a carrot

Chapter 1

"Yeahhh!.. Ah... mmm... ah!.. Fuck me harder!..

"Stop. Cut!"

The familiar click of a clapperboard.

Finally.

Finally, he can stop pretending to be in nirvana from enchanting sex and push off this body

"What the fuck, Pete?!"

Obviously, someone kicks his shooting partner extremely unsuccessfully.

Pete pulls out a couple of wet wipes.

"For what?"

"For almost unscrewing my nipples. I tolerated it only because they pay in cash and right on the spot. But all the time I was thinking they'd fall of my chest!"

"What a pity," the second actor throws on a robe, "I'm going to cry."

"Go ahead, Vegas. Don't be shy."

"Being shy is not about our occupation," they snide in response.

Indeed. Pete rolls his eyes: if it weren't for the urgent need to get a tidy sum of cash, if it weren't for the "pay on the spot" conditions and shooting in expensive and comfortable scenery, and not in the stuffy walls of a porn studio, Pete wouldn't have agreed to participate in a project with Vegas for any price. Everyone in their industry knows that they can't stand each other. But here's the paradox: their hatred in life has always been one hundred percent poured into a crazy passion on the screen. This is what producers and directors used, bringing them together endlessly on the same set.

So. Okay. Now I'm taking my money and getting the fuck out of here at the speed of light.

Pete is already looking forward to tomorrow's Christmas Eve and solving all his financial problems.

"Guys, we have problems with transportation," the manager informs them, "you will have to call a taxi. Sure — at our expense."

If only not.

The thing is that an old country mansion was chosen as the filming location. And in such a blizzard to call a taxi here is almost a lost cause. Meanwhile, the time is late.

"Okay, let's call it. We'll get to the city, and then everyone will go on their own," Vegas sums up.

Pete grits his teeth, but nods: he doesn't feel any pleasure from the two-hour trip together with that sexy moron. But he's got nothing to do with that.

Surprisingly, their order is taken very quickly.

"Hmm, some kind of red pickup truck," Vegas chuckles.

"Even a sleigh with reindeer will go," relpies Pete, "just to get out of here as soon as possible."

"Mmm. Are you in a hurry for the holiday?"

"What's it to you?"

"Just curiosity."

"So keep quiet."

Vegas grins and flips off his middle finger at him, to which Pete snorts and turns away.

It's a strange look for a taxi driver.

Pete stares curiously at the pickup truck and its driver: a white beard, glasses and a red jacket to match the same pants.

That's right... only without reindeer.

Inside the car it is not easier. And if Vegas — thank you! — does not try to make another highly intellectual joke, then the man behind the wheel chatters incessantly. And there are Christmas hits on the radio all the time, and the driver starts singing along every now and then.

"How much longer do we have to go?" Pete asks out loud.

"About an hour," Vegas says.

"The longest hour of my life."

Vegas giggles, burying himself in the phone, and the taxi driver suddenly stops pleasing them with his vocals and turns off the engine.

"What is it?" Pete asks him anxiously.

"Things are bad, guys. We'll have to call a tow truck."

"What?!.." there sounds like a duet, "and what about us?!"

"Uh,"  the old man combs his beard with the fingers, "over there," he nods to the side, "it seems to be a hotel. I think they'll have a shelter for us until morning."

"P-f-f, there's an hour left to go, maybe another taxi will come?" Vegas frowns.

"Try to call. But this is unlikely. And burning fuel idle is also not an option. So — if we don't get out now — there will be a cryochamber inside in ten minutes."

A new taxi is not going to come.

There was such a blizzard on the street that they managed to get lost with the driver, who went in the other direction.

And, as it turned out, this is not a hotel, but an orphanage.

Just fucking bingo!

Pete wraps himself in the collar of a down jacket. Vegas rings the doorbell:

"Do we have a choice?" he says to Pete, anticipating the latter's indignation.

In the hall they are met by a portly, good-natured-looking lady. They are vying to explain the whole situation, of course, keeping silent about the reason why they appeared here.

"Maybe one of your employees is returning to the city today? We could pay well."

"Today is unlikely, but tomorrow, after the children's performance, yes. You could get a lift."

"Uh... only tomorrow?.." Pete purses his lips.

Vegas shoves him in the side, whispering out of the corner of his mouth:

"Do you have better options? If the blizzard doesn't settle down, we won't get home even by Christmas."

And already loudly:

"We agree."

"Great," the woman replies, "but there is one condition."

"What is it?!" it sounds synchronous again.

"Two teachers have come down with a fever. In the morning there is no one to replace them in the play for our kids."

"Soooo?"

"I'm sure you'd do a great job."

Pete is about to object, but Vegas pinches his ass and says with a boa's smile:

"Of course. Moreover, you are fabulously lucky. After all, we are professional actors."

"Is that so? And it's not a problem at all for you to learn five pages of text per night?"

"Actually," Pete steps on Vegas' foot with all his might, and Vegas almost steams out of his ears, "we mostly have laconic roles."

"Yes," Vegas curls his lips, "but with a lot of props."

Pete teases, while the lady looks at them with great interest:

"So, do you agree?"

"No!"

"Yes!"

Vegas puts his arm around Pete 's waist and peremptorily confirms for the two of them:

"Yes!"

Oh, you bitch! Well, you will answer me for this!

"Wonderful. I'll bring you the costumes later. In the meantime, let me take you to bed for the night. Our beds are for children, but for one night you can move them together and lie across. You don't mind, do you?"

"Oh, come on," Vegas replies, winking at infuriating Pete, "that's definitely not a problem... By the way, who will we need to play?"

"A Snowman and a Reindeer."

"I'm a Snowman!" Pete shouts, scalding Vegas with a victorious look.

Vegas spreads his hands and nods.

You will regret to have been born... reindeer.