text: He had worn out his welcome and made a mess in the living room, so my Christmas house guest had to go. This happens every year. My partner has a roving eye--I don’t mind who she brings home--we’re open like that. It was mid-December when I came home from work and there he was, standing in the living room. It seems that every December without fail she hooks up with some long-limbed six-footer, and next thing you know he makes himself the center of attention. Oh well, whatever makes her happy, right? Every year I beg her not to bring ‘em home and for once maybe keep things simple, but no. She has some sort of need that only this sort can fulfill. I’m not really into these woodsy types but I have to admit he was good looking. He had a particular scent, hard to describe, like the outdoors. Plus he put her in a better mood. I have to admit he did look pretty festive all dressed up in holiday colors. But by New Year’s day I had enough, he was now dropping shit left and right on the carpet. I asked her to get rid of him, but she didn’t want to, she called me a spoil-sport killing the party too soon. So it was up to me to take him out. She went out shopping and left me alone with him: this was my chance. I had thought ahead--an idea I got from Dexter--and put a plastic sheet down first. He never saw it coming. The plastic sheet worked great, so much less mess on the carpet than the previous ones and I was able to wrap him up in it. After the deed was done, I called up my buddy Mike to help me haul him outside. Mike is the kind of friend who would help you bury a body, so this was no big deal to him. We slid the bag down the steps and into the back yard. "Thanks buddy, I owe you one," I said. “You need any more help with this?” he asked, but I said no. “Why don’t you fire up the chipper-shredder, it’ll take no time,” he said. “Nah, too much noise,” I said “I can just bag him and be done with it”. Once behind the house I got to work. I unwrapped him from the plastic and opened up a disposal sack. I looked around but nobody was outside, yet I needed to work quickly and quietly just in case. I started by cutting off the smaller parts. This was harder than I thought, my cutters must need sharpening. After a few minutes I was left with some of the larger pieces. I used a saw to cut those down to size. I considered just putting him the back of my truck and dumping him somewhere, but too much risk of getting caught, it seems like even dumpsters have security cams these days. And so under cover of darkness I filled up the two brown sacks containing our Christmas guest, his name was Douglas something. Douglas Fir. At first I thought he was joking, what sick parents would name someone after a type of Christmas tree? But despite being soaked in blood, the name on his drivers license was still visble: Douglas James Fir. Later today I may need to haul these bags off, already they are starting to smell.