A bit of festive fun for everyone. See if you can spot anyone you know? 
Twas the day before Christmas and all across the shimmering icy snow an air of calm could be felt. In the distance a large building stands, lights sending out a glow across the steadily darkening sky with shadows of figures in pointy hats darting back and to past the windows and in one window, right at the top of the building you can just make out the twinkling lights of a Christmas tree. Moving a little closer, a small boy can be seen, a boy with curly golden locks wearing a black jacket and a straw hat smiling as he pushes a toy train across the floor beneath the Christmas tree. Above his head, soaring across the room an oversized sprig of holly fly’s until the face of a slightly rounded man ends its journey…
“Christ woman! What in the blazes are you playing at? Do you realise how dangerous that stuff is? You could’ve taken my eye out!”
“How?” Asked the quietly spoken woman, “You’ve got those bloody sunglasses on, so there’s no chance of anything getting in your eyes. I mean, come on, it’s December! Why do you insist on wearing them? AND…we’re in the NORTH POLE! Where’s the sun?!”
The slender Mrs Claus bustled about putting presents under the tree. She had a pretty face with enticing brown eyes and a bewitching smile, which at the moment was fixed in straight tight line across her face.
“Don’t know what your problem is anyway.” Her husband replied, removing his shades and checking his baby blues in the reflection of the bauble hanging nearest to him.
“My problem dear,” Mrs Claus began as she scooped up her young son from beneath the tree, “is your continuing distasteful ‘jokes’ about stockings, women and always getting in them! You’re Santa Claus! When are you going to start acting like the bringer of joy to all children and stop acting like a dirty old perv in a red suit?!”
“You weren’t complaining last might when I tried on the red suit if I remember rightly. It worked like a charm on ya!”
“Why you…!” Mrs Claus looked for something else to throw at Santa but it was too late, he’d already legged it past her and out o the door wittering something about picking up his suit from the seamstress.
As Santa waited at the door of ‘A Stitch In Time’ he practised his ‘Hohoho’s’. He had a good range; the best of all Santa’s been and gone. He could ‘Ho’ in the highest falsetto or the deepest tenor and his ‘Ho-ing’ only improved with age.
The seamstress finally re-appeared from her room with Santa’s suit,
“Here you go Sir, I’ve taken it out a few inches round the waist and I renewed the buttons on the jacket when I moved them too. It should fit quite comfortably now.”
Santa flung the suit over his shoulder,
“Thanks. I don’t know what they do to it in that Laundrette. Every year after cleaning it comes back too tight. I really must speak to the missus about finding a new one.”
As Santa passed a window on his way to get changed into his newly sized suit he saw the Reindeer Keeper saddling up the sleigh, whispering into the ear of the lead reindeer. Santa never could remember the name of that one with the big red nose, and why that Keeper insisted on having conversations with the animals he just couldn’t figure out. Shaking himself he got moving again, “Can’t stand here staring all day,” he thought, “Got to get myself ready for my public. And I must remember to put some spare cologne in my sack, Eau De Reindeer just isn’t my scent!”
Outside, across the white-blanketed ground, in the biting cold air, the Reindeer Keeper carried on his conversation with Rudolph, Chief Reindeer. His soft voice instructing Rudolph on the optimum velocity to ensure the heavy sleigh kept flying and didn’t drag them all down to the ground. Although, the Reindeer Keeper privately thought that Santa would bounce starlight back up again if he landed on his lardy arse, but he didn’t want any harm coming to his reindeer. Continuing his whisperings into Rudolph’s ear, the Keeper gently stroked his favourite reindeers nose. It was like a scene from The Horse Whisperer, only with reindeer and a man much better looking than Robert Redford.
Rudolph was the Keepers favourite because of his ‘difficulty’. The Keeper had managed to train Rudy to be comfortable with his unusual nose, but he knew that it sometimes got him down. The Reindeer Keeper realized how lucky he was himself to be able to hide how own ‘difficulty’ beneath a hat. Unlike Dear Rudy, who could hardly go around helping to deliver presents wearing a balaclava. Anyone who saw him would be making reports of a reindeer trying to break into houses!
With a final reassuring tap on Rudolph’s head, the Reindeer Keeper went to tend to Comet, who had a bad case of wind and who he had purposely put closest to the drivers seat.
At the back of the sleigh supervising the loading up is the Keeper Of The Lists. A highly organized man in charge of collecting all the children’s lists, ensuring their gifts are found and ticking them off once they are safely put onto the sleigh. Or course, this used to be part of Santa’s job and the Keeper Of The Lists had initially been given the job of Santa but he had turned it down as he was worried about the effect all the mince pies would have on his waistline, so the job had gone to the next person in line, (who looked good in the suit) and the title Keeper Of The Lists had been created for him.
Pulling up the zip of his thick winter coat, the Keeper Of The Lists barked out the next order and another sack went onto the sleigh strapped on securely by a couple of elves.
“Be careful with that sack!” Shouted the Head Elf; “It’s got breakables in it!”
“Yes Boss!” The elves replied.
“You know, you used to be such a content, kind or serene elf” The Keeper Of The Lists addressed the Head Elf, “What happened to you?”
“Santa happened!” The Head Elf grimaced as he hopped from one bell topped foot to the other, directing elves with his green-gloved hands.
“Tell me about it!” Grinned The Keeper Of The Lists
“Well…” began the Head Elf.
“Bugger” thought the Keeper Of The Lists, “ I didn’t mean literally!” But he kept his smile on his face, it was Christmas after all.
The Head Elf continued, “ I told him during that really hot summer last year that we shouldn’t be forced to wear trousers when it’s not cold and I’d got us those lovely sarongs. Remember?”
The Keeper Of The Lists nodded.
“Well, he went out didn’t he and got us these!” The Head Elf pointed down to his Green Tunic and tights. “Have you ever had to wear a tunic in winter?! My baubles are freezing!”
“Can’t say I’ve ever worn a tunic full stop mate. But I tell you what, the day they tell me I’ve gotta wear tights…I’m outta here! Anyway, that’s the last sack on, all we need now is the fat man!”
One cue Santa appeared in the main doorway.
“HO HO HO” The deep voice carried across the snow-capped hills and off into the distance.
He looked like a different man in his red suit and long white beard (false of course – he much preferred the slight stubble effect to the full on beard). The only giveaway was the platform boots to give him some height and the sunglasses popping out from his top pocket. Sunglasses were forbidden for Health and Safety reasons. You can’t fly a sleigh safely at night with sunglasses on, the rules stated. But Santa kept them with him, as the rules didn’t say anything about wearing shades when traveling down a chimney!
Climbing into his seat Santa wriggled down until he found his comfy spot.
“Ah! That’s the spot! Well, thanks boys you’ve done a great job again. Now it’s up to me to take joy and happiness to all the little children around the world. And as for all those stockings…”
The crowd groaned as the waited for another of Santa’s terrible ‘stocking’ jokes.
“Oh all right!” Santa gave up and made a mental note to think of some new jokes for next year.
Picking up the reins he began, “Now Dasher, now Dancer, On…erm…Kermit and…um…Roger…er…ah feck it! EL-E-VA-TION!”
And the sleigh and reindeers soared off into the clear night sky until they were merely a dot in the distance and faintly on the wind Santa’s voice could be heard, “Wooo, wooo-oooo!”
The End.
Merry Christmas.
Twas the day before Christmas and all across the shimmering icy snow an air of calm could be felt. In the distance a large building stands, lights sending out a glow across the steadily darkening sky with shadows of figures in pointy hats darting back and to past the windows and in one window, right at the top of the building you can just make out the twinkling lights of a Christmas tree. Moving a little closer, a small boy can be seen, a boy with curly golden locks wearing a black jacket and a straw hat smiling as he pushes a toy train across the floor beneath the Christmas tree. Above his head, soaring across the room an oversized sprig of holly fly’s until the face of a slightly rounded man ends its journey…
“Christ woman! What in the blazes are you playing at? Do you realise how dangerous that stuff is? You could’ve taken my eye out!”
“How?” Asked the quietly spoken woman, “You’ve got those bloody sunglasses on, so there’s no chance of anything getting in your eyes. I mean, come on, it’s December! Why do you insist on wearing them? AND…we’re in the NORTH POLE! Where’s the sun?!”
The slender Mrs Claus bustled about putting presents under the tree. She had a pretty face with enticing brown eyes and a bewitching smile, which at the moment was fixed in straight tight line across her face.
“Don’t know what your problem is anyway.” Her husband replied, removing his shades and checking his baby blues in the reflection of the bauble hanging nearest to him.
“My problem dear,” Mrs Claus began as she scooped up her young son from beneath the tree, “is your continuing distasteful ‘jokes’ about stockings, women and always getting in them! You’re Santa Claus! When are you going to start acting like the bringer of joy to all children and stop acting like a dirty old perv in a red suit?!”
“You weren’t complaining last might when I tried on the red suit if I remember rightly. It worked like a charm on ya!”
“Why you…!” Mrs Claus looked for something else to throw at Santa but it was too late, he’d already legged it past her and out o the door wittering something about picking up his suit from the seamstress.
As Santa waited at the door of ‘A Stitch In Time’ he practised his ‘Hohoho’s’. He had a good range; the best of all Santa’s been and gone. He could ‘Ho’ in the highest falsetto or the deepest tenor and his ‘Ho-ing’ only improved with age.
The seamstress finally re-appeared from her room with Santa’s suit,
“Here you go Sir, I’ve taken it out a few inches round the waist and I renewed the buttons on the jacket when I moved them too. It should fit quite comfortably now.”
Santa flung the suit over his shoulder,
“Thanks. I don’t know what they do to it in that Laundrette. Every year after cleaning it comes back too tight. I really must speak to the missus about finding a new one.”
As Santa passed a window on his way to get changed into his newly sized suit he saw the Reindeer Keeper saddling up the sleigh, whispering into the ear of the lead reindeer. Santa never could remember the name of that one with the big red nose, and why that Keeper insisted on having conversations with the animals he just couldn’t figure out. Shaking himself he got moving again, “Can’t stand here staring all day,” he thought, “Got to get myself ready for my public. And I must remember to put some spare cologne in my sack, Eau De Reindeer just isn’t my scent!”
Outside, across the white-blanketed ground, in the biting cold air, the Reindeer Keeper carried on his conversation with Rudolph, Chief Reindeer. His soft voice instructing Rudolph on the optimum velocity to ensure the heavy sleigh kept flying and didn’t drag them all down to the ground. Although, the Reindeer Keeper privately thought that Santa would bounce starlight back up again if he landed on his lardy arse, but he didn’t want any harm coming to his reindeer. Continuing his whisperings into Rudolph’s ear, the Keeper gently stroked his favourite reindeers nose. It was like a scene from The Horse Whisperer, only with reindeer and a man much better looking than Robert Redford.
Rudolph was the Keepers favourite because of his ‘difficulty’. The Keeper had managed to train Rudy to be comfortable with his unusual nose, but he knew that it sometimes got him down. The Reindeer Keeper realized how lucky he was himself to be able to hide how own ‘difficulty’ beneath a hat. Unlike Dear Rudy, who could hardly go around helping to deliver presents wearing a balaclava. Anyone who saw him would be making reports of a reindeer trying to break into houses!
With a final reassuring tap on Rudolph’s head, the Reindeer Keeper went to tend to Comet, who had a bad case of wind and who he had purposely put closest to the drivers seat.
At the back of the sleigh supervising the loading up is the Keeper Of The Lists. A highly organized man in charge of collecting all the children’s lists, ensuring their gifts are found and ticking them off once they are safely put onto the sleigh. Or course, this used to be part of Santa’s job and the Keeper Of The Lists had initially been given the job of Santa but he had turned it down as he was worried about the effect all the mince pies would have on his waistline, so the job had gone to the next person in line, (who looked good in the suit) and the title Keeper Of The Lists had been created for him.
Pulling up the zip of his thick winter coat, the Keeper Of The Lists barked out the next order and another sack went onto the sleigh strapped on securely by a couple of elves.
“Be careful with that sack!” Shouted the Head Elf; “It’s got breakables in it!”
“Yes Boss!” The elves replied.
“You know, you used to be such a content, kind or serene elf” The Keeper Of The Lists addressed the Head Elf, “What happened to you?”
“Santa happened!” The Head Elf grimaced as he hopped from one bell topped foot to the other, directing elves with his green-gloved hands.
“Tell me about it!” Grinned The Keeper Of The Lists
“Well…” began the Head Elf.
“Bugger” thought the Keeper Of The Lists, “ I didn’t mean literally!” But he kept his smile on his face, it was Christmas after all.
The Head Elf continued, “ I told him during that really hot summer last year that we shouldn’t be forced to wear trousers when it’s not cold and I’d got us those lovely sarongs. Remember?”
The Keeper Of The Lists nodded.
“Well, he went out didn’t he and got us these!” The Head Elf pointed down to his Green Tunic and tights. “Have you ever had to wear a tunic in winter?! My baubles are freezing!”
“Can’t say I’ve ever worn a tunic full stop mate. But I tell you what, the day they tell me I’ve gotta wear tights…I’m outta here! Anyway, that’s the last sack on, all we need now is the fat man!”
One cue Santa appeared in the main doorway.
“HO HO HO” The deep voice carried across the snow-capped hills and off into the distance.
He looked like a different man in his red suit and long white beard (false of course – he much preferred the slight stubble effect to the full on beard). The only giveaway was the platform boots to give him some height and the sunglasses popping out from his top pocket. Sunglasses were forbidden for Health and Safety reasons. You can’t fly a sleigh safely at night with sunglasses on, the rules stated. But Santa kept them with him, as the rules didn’t say anything about wearing shades when traveling down a chimney!
Climbing into his seat Santa wriggled down until he found his comfy spot.
“Ah! That’s the spot! Well, thanks boys you’ve done a great job again. Now it’s up to me to take joy and happiness to all the little children around the world. And as for all those stockings…”
The crowd groaned as the waited for another of Santa’s terrible ‘stocking’ jokes.
“Oh all right!” Santa gave up and made a mental note to think of some new jokes for next year.
Picking up the reins he began, “Now Dasher, now Dancer, On…erm…Kermit and…um…Roger…er…ah feck it! EL-E-VA-TION!”
And the sleigh and reindeers soared off into the clear night sky until they were merely a dot in the distance and faintly on the wind Santa’s voice could be heard, “Wooo, wooo-oooo!”
The End.
Merry Christmas.
