Beware Snowmen bearing gifts! – A Flash Fiction Challenge

captura‘If one more kid calls me Olaf, I’m gonna give ‘em more than a flipping wind-up toy!’
‘Let it go, Tommo!’ Frank’s belly wobbled beneath the costume.
‘Ha bloody ha,’ grumbled the six-foot-two snowman at his side.
‘Just remember why we’re here. Two more hours to go. Bill the Stick has shifted everything we nicked last week. There’s a nice stash waiting for us and after a few cocktails in Mexico this’ll be no more than a bad memory.’
‘I’m not really into cocktails, but I hear you. These outfits certainly do hide a multitude of sins, or should I say valuables?’His merriment was interrupted with a tug of his snow-suit.
‘Hey, Mister, the real Olaf isn’t that fat,’ screamed a tiny boy, no bigger than the sack of presents behind the men.
‘Just give the kid a gift,’ whispered Frank. ‘Don’t arouse suspicion, his mother looks like a right moody bird.’
With a huge sigh, Tommo reached into his sack, pulled out a glossily-wrapped box and thrust it into the boy’s hand, the force sending the little lad toppling.
‘Oy! Careful there, else I’ll ‘ave you for assault. He’s only a nipper!’ A scrawny woman wearing more make-up than clothing bared her nicotine-stained teeth.
Frank quickly intervened to keep the peace. ‘Sorry, love. It’s been a long day. ‘Ere, take another couple of pressies for the wee laddie.’
‘Phew! Tommo. Where’s your Christmas spirit?’
‘Melted’ he spat. ‘Roll on closing time!’

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