Santa Defeats COVID-19
Christmas of the 2020 pandemic. Santa was in his office, when an elf came in.
Excuse me, Santa?” said the elf.
“Mmmyes?” Santa responded.
The elf asked: “You know the current situation, right?”
“I am aware of the virus, yes,” Santa replied.
“Well, you see,” the elf continued, “everybody is stuck in their homes, and can’t go outside, so they order their gifts on Shamazon.”
Santa asked: “Why are you telling me this?”
“We haven’t received a single letter,” the elf said, looking downward.
Santa hadn’t been so shocked: “I’ve had enough! We can’t take this lying down!”
He dialed the phone. “Hello?! Yes, I need to meet you …you-know-where…It’s an emergency!..Alright, goodbye.”
Later, Santa met up with the best scientist he had.
“What is it, Santa?” the science-elf asked.
“I know it’s very last-minute, Sprinkles, but I need your help to create an antivirus.” Santa was very stressed.
“I’ll try my best, Santa!” the elf replied passionately.
They got to work immediately. After many explosions, and with a little Christmas magic, they created the perfect antivirus.
“Finally!” Santa cried. “Sprinkles! Unleash it immediately!
“Right away, sir.”
Sprinkles mashed a button. An alarm rang everywhere. A green and red mist started creeping on every continent. All the people in the hospitals recovered with astounding speed.
Everyone suddenly remembered to write their letters to Santa, with a day to spare. It was certainly a confusing Christmas, but a good one, nevertheless.
“So…yer retirin’ because you think yer goin’ crazy?” the sheriff asks.
The state trooper shifts in his seat, twiddling his blade. “Naw, I know I’m goin’ crazy. Hell, I’m sure I lost the last of my marbles that night.”
“Course not, sir.” the state trooper leans back, crossing his feet on the desk.
“So there I was… T’was a mighty fine evenin’, twenty-fourth of December if I recall. Yeah, a mighty fine one indeed, sir. Was doin’ my patrol around that there highway; nothin’ unusual. Young’uns runnin’ round the road, throwin’ snowballs at each other. Then, one of the li’l ones ran right up to me, and asked me a purty odd question.
‘What’ll Santa get you for Christmas, sir?’
I got real confused, n’ told ‘er, ‘Maybe if ya tell me who that man may be.’
‘It’s Santa Claus, silly! He gives gifts to us good kids.’
I pat her sweet li’l head n’ moved along. Later that cold evenin’, I took the gal’s warning to heart n’ patrolled late in the night. I couldn’t hear nuthin’ no sir, nuthin at all. Now I kept searchin’, but not one hoodlum showed up tryin’ to break into nobody’s homes. I bet my mind made the whole thing up, that bastard.
That li’l gal prolly never existed. Soon after midnight I stalked on home to my bed, y’see, cause my eyes were barely open as they were...and that’s why I think I’m goin’ crazy. My mind’s makin’ things up now, y’see, I’m getting too old.”
The sheriff gives a look at the state trooper, silently wondering how one could live under a rock his whole life. “Yes, sir, I think you are.”
A Little Belief
I don’t celebrate Christmas. I give no gifts. My house is large, large enough to hold a family of twenty people at least. My salary is enough to support three families of thirty and myself. Some people call me a man of greed who is too self-involved; however, I don’t see how they would see that. I’m good looking, rich, strong, intelligent, selfless and humble. That’s what I tell everyone. They have got to learn to listen.
“Mr. Loris, sir,” Willowbrent called from the other side of the street.
“Yes, Willowbrent,” I said with a drawl.
“My family and I would be honoured to have you over for Christmas,” he said cheerily.
“Hahaha, you must be joking!” I said, practically doubling over with laughter.
“No, sir,” he said, a saddened frown settling on his face.
“I may be nicer around the holidays, but I still have my standards,” I said, turning away.
“Please sir, my mother greatly desires your company. Every year she tells us the story of young Loris. The boy who would go door-to-door placing gifts on people’s front steps, singing around the neighbourhood for donations for the poor. Please sir. You must come,” Willowbrent pleaded.
Just then, something shifted.
“Why don’t we celebrate at my house? I will pay for everything. You know what, I want to throw a Christmas celebration. Everyone is to attend.”
“I guess a little belief in someone really can change them for the better.”
Man’s Best Friend
Once upon a time, there was a fourteen-year-old boy named Max. He really wanted a dog for Christmas, but his parents thought it was too much of a responsibility, so they said no.
Max was sad; he really wanted a friend for Christmas, someone or something to be with, to cuddle with, to talk to, to relate to and to play with.
Then all of a sudden…a dog-like human appeared!
“Greetings, Earthling,” said the creature. “I come in peace, I have been sent to learn more about your species.”
“Who are you and what are you?” Max asked.
“My name is Harry, and I am from the planet Woofus. I hear you want a pet dog for Christmas?” replied Harry.
“Yes, I do, but my parents thinks a dog is too much work to take care of!”
Harry then exclaimed: “I think I can help you with this; I have a special dog for you that is trained to take care of itself!”
Harry took Max to an SPCA on his planet. Max chose the dog with the cute little dot near his eye. He brought the dog home and named him Pancake.
When Max got home, the dog talked to him! Max had a good Christmas because the best thing during a time of crisis is a friend!