Ho Ho Ho

A/N: Christmas Crack. It's awful. Dedicated to Capslocks_Bleach, and to my dearest friends Craig and CurseReaper who encourage this monstrosity. Someone actually wanted me to write this.
*Wants fanart for this soooo badly*
FANDOM: Bleach.
PAIRING: Tesla/Nnoitra and ?/Nnoitra.
WARNINGS:Crack, cross dressing, way AU, unbeated, lewdness, language, insinuated sex, blatant irreverence, brain breakage, the worst thing I've written to date, BAH HUMBUG.
Disclaimer Not my nothing, not being paid.

The Espada knew that they were in trouble when Aizen called them to a meeting and tea wasn't served.

Aizen always served tea as a nicety, it was just part of how he worked. There was always tea, and without tea there, it felt colder and foreboding. That all were silent as they took their respective seats, afraid to speak at all. Once they were seated, Aizen looked up, his eyes adorned with dark circles that spoke for his lack of sleep and stress.

This was not a good sign.

“My Espada, my chosen few, a new mission is afoot. This mission is of the utmost importance, and without it, we may lose the war.”

What? They had been given important missions in the past, but this sounded dangerous. The Espada vocalized wholeheartedly that no matter what the mission was, that it would be done. They would not fail their precious Aizen-Sama, not matter what the cost. Finally, they quieted, and Stark ended up being the one who spoke.

“What do we need to do?”

Aizen sighed, and responded.

“We need to raise at least three million dollars before the holidays. Simple as that. The war has cost us greatly, and that is the minimum amount needed for the repairs and items necessary to stay at war with the Shinigami. If we do not manage to raise that amount at least, well, we may not be able to keep up with the Shinigami.”

At this point, Gin took over, while Tousen put a blanket over Aizen's shoulders in an act of support.

“Ne, this ain't gonna be easy ya know. Ya got to all go and make money. Now, luckily Aizen-Sama made it easy for some of ya and started a small establishment for ya to work at. Some of ya will have to find your own work though... Alright then, get moving! That money ain't gonna make it's self!”

Tousen added a final point, to drive the importance of this mission home.

“The Espada who makes the least amount of money will get demoted. Aizen-Sama needs results, and failure will not be tolerated.”

With that uncomfortable fact in mind, they set out, and got to working.

Stark found a job quickly, as a test subject for sleep research. It was easy work, and the pay was decent.

Grimmjow found a job with a violent gang. He was having a grand time, and getting well paid for it.

Ulquiorra found himself as the on site manager of Aizen's Tex-Mex franchise, along with the rest of the Espada and their fraccion. Everything was going well at first, except for the fact that a certain Quinta Espada was having issues in the workforce. The rules where different here, an after the eight grope of a customer's breasts, he found himself fired.

Fired was bad.

Very bad.

Fired meant no money.

No money meant demotion...

He spent three nights pacing, trying to figure out what to do. He just couldn't handle demotion, he had too much pride in his job. He had to think of a solution, and fast. How could he make an ass load of cash before the deadline?

The idea clicked in his brain, and he smirked evilly. This was gonna be good. Let the other stupid Espada slave away in a hot kitchen cooking tacos, he was going straight to the richest bastard in the world! How rich did someone have to be to give away presents?

He was gonna bring home the bacon, better than any of the rest!

In the North Pole, outside of Santa's workshop, the teamster elves were staring lasciviously at the tallest hooker they had ever seen. 'She' was a one eyed vision of sex, with long legs that seemed endless, an almost disturbingly thin body, and glossy black hair. She was dressed in a slutty little green dress, similar to the garb of the elven shop workers, red striped thigh high stocking, and fabulous boots, jet black and white, and the toe of them curved oh, so sexily.

Ooh, the elves wanted some of that.

She had six inch press on's applied, far too much makeup on, and the expected elf's hat seemed to be the perfect topper to the ensemble, calling out to the potential clients like the star on top of a very fuckable Christmas tree. They could see the condoms sticking out of the top of her boots, and she walked like she literally had something stuck up her ass.

The best part, as they would find out later, was that 'she' did.

“Would ya look at the legs on that woman!”

“Is it even a woman?”

“With legs like that, does it matter?”

“She's sooo tall... I can see forever...”

One of them finally had the gall to talk to her, and he disappeared with her into the candy cane shop after a bit. There were horrible, frightening noises from within, and the other elves were beginning to wonder if he was being killed. Finally, the loud cry of “Fuck yeah, Daddy, fuck me harder!” was sounded, the crowd was calmed, but a still bit traumatized.

When the client elf finally came out, he was red faced, bruised, and penniless.

“So? Was she worth it?”

The elf grinned.

“Heck yeah! The whore was tight as a vice and hotter than a five dollar pistol. I'm going to go ask the boss man for a paycheck advance so I can have another round!”

With that announcement, every elf in the community was satisfied, and they lined up for their turn, spending their money like it was going out of style. The hooker was ridden like a village bicycle, and screamed in a tone that made the customer's request the expensive BDSM play just so they could have the option of using the gag.

Finally, at the end of the evening, the entire village was sated and broke, except for one not so jolly old elf.

Now, some of the boys where worried about the boss man. The misses wasn't as pretty as she used to be, and she damned well wasn't putting out any more. Now, they didn't have any more cash themselves, but after a bit of eggnog and convincing the old elf was ready to try anything.

They led the whore there, and watched as the boss man scooped 'her' into his lap.

“Well, Ho Ho Ho indeed! Have you been a good girl this year?”

The whore tossed 'her' head and smiled, a horrible, monstrous smile as 'she' spoke.

“Fuck no, I've been a nasty slut. Wanna put me in my place?”

The elves listened as the negotiated the prices, and finally they closed the door, and listened from the other side. The boss and the slut were in there for hours, and finally, the whore emerged from the room, loaded with cash and smirking. 'She' opened a black, startling sort of portal, and stepped through, never to be seen again.

The boss man stumbled out a moment later, clawed and bitten, and breathing hard.

“Sir? Are you all right?”

He spoke nothing, but simply sang as he headed to the bath.

”I came upon a midnight clear, inside that glorious whore...

Oh, there where some things the elves could so without.

Hearing that rendition of that song was one of them.

Back home, Tesla was seething in anger as he gathered the necessary items for cleansing his precious Nnoitra-sama of the filthy elven touch. He couldn't believe that his precious Nnoitra had done such a thing! It didn't matter that he had raised three times the goal in one night, he had still allowed midgets to ass fuck him! It wasn't right! He was the shortest person allowed to put his dick in Nnoitra-sama, in fact, from that moment on he declared that he'd be the only one allowed to!

Well, before he claimed him again he'd have to clean him first... He took one last look into the kit before heading to Nnoitra-Sama's chambers. He had to make sure he had everything that he needed.

Enamel kit? Check.

Rubber gloves? Check.

Industrial strength cleanser/lubricant made just for this purpose by Szayel? Check.

Condoms? Check.

With that, he was ready to clean the elves' jolly remnant's out of his holiday ho.

A/N part: *hides from the murderous fantards who will inevitably take this too seriously.*