Disposing of the evidence

A crime was committed in Vancouver.  An innocent tree was cruelly killed and then displayed in a grotesque and ritualistic manner, draped in lights and reflective trinkets, for the amusement of a family.  Luckily today the victim has been put to rest when it was bagged up and taken to a nearby car park where the local Lions Club arranged for it to be disposed of.  A "charitable donation" changed hands, and no questions were asked.

So we've regained some floor space in our apartment, and the smell of pine once again comes only from air fresheners, as it should.  There's an arrangement in our marriage that says: Hannah can have a real tree as long as every single needle disappears at the end of the Christmas season.  If not, it's artificial next year!  As I type I hear the sound of feverish vacuuming, which is strange as I didn't realise Hannah knew where we kept the hoover...

Pete is expected to join the family business when he's older, like in The Godfather.

Dragging the dead body into the lift.

Inconspicuously setting off across Vancouver.

Nothing to see here.

The end of the road.

Even in death our tree looked a lot better than this one.

Grandma drives the getaway vehicle.

You never close your eyes any more when I kiss your lips...(these have appeared all over town.)