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Spy Llama
An intercepted cable across the mid-pacific line was recently posted on WikiPeeks...the identities of the callers are unverifiable, but circumstances suggest that renegade present-giver Mr. Claus (MC) was one party and a distraught North America Parent (NAP) was the other. Analysts suspect the Big Day is code for a world-wide event that they have yet to identify.
NAP: Hi, Santa, I'd like to negotiate a delay to Christmas ...
MC: Ho, that's a good one! I'm sorry, young lady, but I don't have time for jokes just now. I have a lot of presents to get ready for the Big Day, and the reindeer are still competing for top billing.
NAP: Yes, yes, I'm sure you're very busy right now. That's my point. Work's been a hassle, my boss has me doing overtime, and you see, I haven't got all my shopping done. I think we'd all be better served with a three or four day delay. It's Win-Win. I'm sure you can see that.
MC: Win what? I'm sorry, miss, but I can't delay Christmas. What would the children think? After all, they expect Santa to make his appointed rounds.
NAP: The kids will believe anything. Tell them you're sick. Make a video and put it on YouTube. Look, it's just a few more days, that's all I need.
MC: You who? Well, I do know Christmas is a magical time! Who wouldn't want a few more days to enjoy the hot cocoa, the Christmas cookies, the woodsy scent of elves roasting over an open fire ...
NAP: Wait, what? Did you say elves ... ?
MC: They make the finest marshmallows, those elves. But I'm afraid my magic won't allow me to extend time, miss. Perhaps I could bring you something else? Have you been good this year?
NAP: Yes, yes, I've been good. Very good. Except for that time with the neighbor's cat, but that totally wasn't my fault. Er, uh, look that's not the point.
MC: Oh dear. Sounds like someone may be on the naughty list.
NAP: {indecipherable} Can we get back on topic? I need an extension. I tweeted all my followers and, like, four of them retweeted saying they need extensions too! The house is mess, the in-laws are coming, I haven't finished my shopping, and if I hear Silver Bells on the radio one more time, my head's going to explode!
MC: That would be dreadful. You know, the reindeer have complained about that very thing. I wonder if that's why they've been so agitated lately. Or it could be Mrs. Claus' barley stew. It really is unpalatable.
NAP: Santa! Stay with me, old man. Here's the thing: just a two or three day delay in Christmas and it will all be to the good again. I'll have the stockings hung with care, the cookies will be baked by then, and I'll probably have found that hideous inflatable Santa. Uh, no offense.
MC: Ho, ho, ho! None take, dear. Mrs. Claus got me one of those last year. I use it to keep away the polar bears.
NAP: Right. Um, okay. So, are we agreed then? A two day delay?
MC: Excuse me a moment, will you? {in the distance} No, Rudolph! Stay away from the holly! You know what that does to your digestion! {louder} I'm sorry, dear, what were you saying?
NAP: A two day delay. That's all I'm asking. I'm sure you can agree that's more than fair.
MC: Oh, two days! That's no time at all. You should be able to make that happen, no problem!
NAP: Great! Wonderful! Wait, what do you mean
I can make it happen?
MC: It's so simple, really. Yet, I'm always amazed when it happens. A child laughs and time simply stops. You can't help but laugh along, then time trickles slow like cold syrup on pancakes. And when those little ones fit their small hands in yours and say,
come play? Well, time nearly goes backwards then, doesn't it? Back to a time when everything is new, like freshly fallen snow. They have powerful magic, those small ones, don't you think?
NAP: {silence} You really are a crazy old man, aren't you?
MC: Well, Mrs. Claus says that's beyond dispute.
NAP: {sigh} How about just one day? I think I could make it all happen with just one extra day.
MC: Do you have children, my dear?
NAP: Well of course I do, you overgrown elf! Why do you think I'm calling?
MC: Give them a hug for me, will you? Tell them I'll be along soon and not to leave out carrots for Rudolph. They give him heartburn.
NAP: I ... um ...
MC: And try to stay off the naughty list, eh? We need to set a good example, don't we?
NAP: But ...
MC: I know, I know. You're almost always on the good list. You know, now that I think of it, I still remember that last letter you sent to me.
NAP: You ... you do?
MC: Well, of course! I read all my mail! Best part of the job, I always say. Do you remember what you asked for?
NAP: Well, I ... yeah. I asked for my dad to come home. He was overseas ... fighting the war.
MC: Those little letters are the ones that make even this jolly old elf shed a tear. The young ones without their dads or moms. The letters that only wish for the people they love to come home. There's no toy I can dream up that will make those wishes come true. Occupational hazard, Mrs. Claus says. Darn shame, if you ask me.
NAP: {silence} Santa, uh, I have to go. I don't have any time to waste.
MC: I know, dear. Merry Christmas!
NAP: Merry Christmas, Santa.