Well, children, I suppose you are expecting me to tell you another tale about Santa, yes? About his North Pole house, and all his reindeer, and how he
brings cheer to all little boys and girls (and parents too)? What's that? You want a different story? Ohh, I see, the old stories have been told one
too many. Well then, how about I tell you a different one, eh? How about I tell you about the time that Santa almost didn't make it on Christmas Eve?
What? No, I'm sorry young man, but Santa isn't a pirate or a ninja, but if you let me tell the tale, you may find Santa to be a
Anyway, let me begin...
Timmy was waiting. The whole world was waiting to fall asleep - for tonight was the night where Santa, the mystical figure that brought presents to
good kids, coal to bad, and kisses to wives (that dirty old man, kissing a married woman!!). Timmy's household was the same as everyone's that night:
The warm fire, Christmas tree lit, and a tray of cookies minus 1, all set.
As the minutes ticked into hours, Timmy's eyes became heavy, fluttering one last time...
What, No Santa!? Settle down kids, you said you wanted a story, but what good is a story if I don't start it out? Let cranky old Tim continue!
Ahem, now then - Timmy's dad was running late. But up at the North Pole, Santa was also running late; in fact, unbeknownst to pretty much everyone,
with exception to various NSA members, FBI personnel, and a couple crazy members on some conspiracy website (About Top Secret was the name, I
think?)...What?, Oh nevermind, of course you don't need to know who the NSA is. Back to it! Santa was not in a good spot, not at all indeed...
The cold air swept around the sled, skis cutting a path in the hard, white light of moon. The elf, packages trailing behind in a dangerously
overridden heap, swayed back and forth as the elf urged the horse at full speed to the lonely cabin. Terror gripped him, fear lead him on after the
sight he just witnessed coming their way. Every now and then, he looked back to make sure he still had the lead.
The sled came to a stop just outside the house; all was silent, so silent that the only mouse living there could be heard twitching in its
cookie-induced slumber. Out of breath, the elf barely managed to open the door and squeak out "They're coming!!!" before lying in a heap.
Now, Santa was no fool; he knew that it was the dark elves of the South, making good their threat to take control of Christmas this year; The elf,
still conscious, choked out all that was seen: Hundreds of elves in dark blue armor, pale swords of ice at their sides. Their leader, a very chubby
fellow indeed, dressed in a suit highly similar to his. "Oh Dear" he thought to himself, "This is not good".
"Alert the other elves, for we will need a distraction to get the job done tonight - You will need to be brave; gather as many as you can, and make
sure all of them have something - According to my list, there should be hundreds of paint-ball and air soft guns from before those high-school
football players went naughty. I want you to keep all those dark elves, and Dingle (their infamous leader) away from here, understand? "
The Elf, hopping to his feet, saluted, and replied with a hasty "Yessir", and out the door he went.
While the sleigh was being loaded up, Santa made sure that the runway was still secure - most don't know this, but it take time for the reindeer to
get the sleigh in the air; at the least, Santa had to make sure there weren't any other jets in the vicinity. The Elf, watching him get in, bid him a
farewell, just as the dark elven army crested the hill. With a snap of the reins, the race began.
Some of the dark elves managed to break the formation behind him, running after the sleigh; Others were brought down by Santa's elves, forming a
charge. Even Mrs. Claus was able to take out some of those that tried to get into the house; Santa caught a glimpse of her brandishing the mock AK-47,
firing red paintballs till the dark elves were quite literally red in the face. He had to smirk at that, because no-one makes the missus mad and gets
away with it. With a final jump, he was airborne, circling over the battle below. He was late, and had a job - Coming back would be the hard thing.
Relax, Santa obviously doesn't die - Come on, you complain when I tell the nice tales, complain when I tell the bad ones. What if I told you that this
story had a happy ending? I can continue? (Great, about time I get your permission).
The snow relented, and for some strange reason Timmy awoke. The first thing he heard was silence; it wasn't a good kind either, for in years past, it
was around this time that he had to be extra cautious; for Santa was usually in the house. He peeked out the door, noting that his parents weren't in
bed. Creeping down the stairs, his eyes went wide as saucers!
Under the tree, in a neat big pile, were what Santa had left him! He ran down the remaining stairs, and inadvertently woke his Dad up in the easy
chair, and mom on the recliner. Christmas had come!
The paper had a curious story the day after; There were rumors circulating of a mass group of weird people in blue being held up by the TSA; the
people in question claimed to be "Christmas carolers", trying to spread the "new world order" of Christmas. Reports were quickly hushed up, and the
paper in question removed the article.
Oh, and just in case anyone want's to listen to the music that I had for each of the segments above, I present this for your viewing pleasure; I
advise you listen to each song while reading.
1. Beginning: So...It Begins...
2. Battle: Let the Battle Commence
3. End: In Conclusion
edit on 13/12/2014 by fossilera because: