Printer-Friendly
Email this Story
Post a Comment (0)
Modern-day Santa tale makes fable more realistic
With the world as it is today, it is increasingly difficult to relate the tale of Santa Claus -- as it was told to us -- to our kids.
An effort is needed to modernize the tale of the obese philanthropist who flies an open-air sleigh across the world in one night, led only by eight tiny reindeer.
Here is an attempt to bring the story into a more realistic, modern-day focus:
Santa was feeling a little dyspeptic on Christmas Eve this year after eating three Five Guys burgers. He asked Mrs. Claus if there was any Prilosec OTC in the bathroom cabinet.
Just then a Local #422 Union delegate walked in and asked Santa if he was ready to negotiate the complaint being brought forth by the International Association for the Advancement of All Little People.
“What’s their problem this time?” Santa asked.
“Well,” said the delegate, “The organization feels that the term 'elf' is derogatory and unfairly casts workers into a ‘light of ridicule.'”
“What is it they want?” Santa asked.
“They are petitioning to have it formally declared that all workers under 4 feet tall are herewith to be referred to as ‘little people of seasonal distinction,’” said the delegate.
“Fine,” Santa agreed.
As the union delegate was leaving, several members of the North Pole Humane Society showed up to protest the use of reindeer for manual labor, i.e. the hauling of a sleigh around the globe in one night.
Santa rolled his eyes and shut the door as the Humane Society began setting up a picket line outside the reindeer barn. Just then, his Blackberry rang. It was the National Weather Service with GPS uploads. After the upload, Santa went upstairs and took a hot shower.
Afterward, he put on his best red and whites, pushed past the Humane Society picketers and went into the barn.
“Dancer and Prancer, come here!” he bellowed.
“Now listen here,” he said as they came forward, “I have enough problems this year without you two sweethearts pulling some kind of stunt like trying to marry each other as we’re flying over Massachusetts!”
The two reindeer blushed and batted their eyelashes. “OK, Santa,” they said in unison.
“Sheesh,” Santa mumbled under his breath, as he pushed back past the picketers toward the house.
Just then, Mrs. Claus called from the porch. “Santa! Mattel is on the phone,” she yelled. Santa went into the house and took the call.
“What?” He said into the phone. “What do you mean? A what? Swell.” Santa hung up the phone.
“What’s the matter, honey?” Mrs. Claus asked.
“Well,” Santa said. “The South American elves -- uh, little people of seasonal distinction -- the ones we farmed the Barbie contract out to through NAFTA -- have run off to become revolutionaries in a military coup d’etat! They never finished making the dolls!”
Santa quickly picked up the phone, dialed *67 and proceeded to contact the black market to see if he could score four million knock-offs. After the call, he phoned the Pentagon to see if Iraqi airspace had been cleared for a fly-over. The line was busy.
Mrs. Claus entered the room. “Now Santa,” she said. “You watch your blood pressure! Did you take your Cardizem and Lipitor this morning?”
Just then, the tremendous sound of a deafening crack filled the air. Santa looked out the window and turned as red as his suit.
“What’s the matter?” said Mrs. Claus.
“Oh nothing,” Santa said. “The east wing of the workshop is just floating out to sea, that’s all.”
“How did that happen?” Mrs. Claus inquired.
“Global warming I suppose,” Santa replied. “The ice cap underneath it just broke off the mainland.”
Just then a loud “BLAM” could be heard from up on a nearby mountain. The Clauses looked out their window and saw thick smoke rising into the air. “The polar bears are making meth again,” Santa said, turning to face Mrs. Claus.
“How dreadful!” Mrs. Claus replied.
At that moment, the head “little person of seasonal distinction” walked into the room and announced that because of a recent FTC ruling, 23 million Tickle Me Elmos would need new warning labels in order to get past U.S. customs.
“The labels are being shipped FedEx Priority One,” said the head LPSD. “We’ll have them in an hour.”
With that, Santa decided that it was time for a nap.
That evening, loaded up with all the wonderful toys for all the good girls and boys, Santa proceeded to climb onto his sleigh and began uttering those magical words, “On Dasher, on Dancer, on Prancer and Vixen, on Comet, On Cupid, On-Star? -- “Yeah. Could you please unlock my door? I locked my keys in the sleigh!!!”
The writer is a staff reporter for the Fairfax County Times
You must be logged in to post a comment.