Dead On Arrival
"Santa Claus Is Coming to Town" is © J. Fred Coots and Haven Gillespie (Fun fact: It was first sung on Eddie Cantor's radio show in November 1934.)
On the 26th of December Santa Claus, the great big jolly Polar Bear, arrived home from delivering presents. He rubbed down the reindeer, made sure they had plenty of food and water and then locked up their shed. He walked around his house turning off the lights, television and made sure to set his mobile phone to silent. He then went to the bathroom and swallowed two bottles of sleeping pills, finished a bottle of rum, collapsed into bed and died peacefully.
On January 3rd the elves came back from their holiday. Some were hung over, some were ashamed of the affairs they had while away and some were just read to get back to making toys. The head elf went to go check on reindeer who were fine but a little hungry and a little distressed. This struck the elf as odd but it was only when he got to the house, to the smell, that he realised what had happened.
He wasn't surprised.
Three years ago Santa Claus, also a Polar Bear, had crashed his sleigh, reindeer and all, into a mountain at high speed. There were, of course, no survivors.
Two years before that Santa Claus, this one was a Panda, had left and never returned. He must still be out there walking the world, maybe even spreading cheer and good will, but his time as Santa had ended.
Ten years before that Santa Claus, a reindeer himself, had arrived home with a gun. He shot the reindeer, Mrs Claus and then himself.
A year before that Santa Claus, a fox, had to be put into an artificial coma, his brain had been unable to take the strain of what is was supposed to contain any more.
Even before the current head elf had been born the elves had been passing on the secret of Santa Claus. Part of being the head elf was knowing the secret and what to do when Santa Claus eventually imploded. Luckily this Santa had taken a peaceful way to pass, the one with the gun had been really difficult to conceal and had seen several elves promoted hastily.
His family hadn't been amongst them. He had been raised knowing the secret, knowing that one day he would be responsible for cleaning up the mess left behind by a Santa's passing.
The funeral was on January 7th. Elves in black suits and dresses dabbed their eyes with hankies while others bawled openly and other stood in silent respect. Several senior elves spoke and the head elf closed off the ceremony with a song.
Despite what people think they know about elves here is the truth. Elves have incredibly short life spans. Ten years is unheard of, eight years is a good innings and five years acceptable. Because of this no living elf is aware of when the problems first started happening. And elves don't write anything but instruction manuals, for their descendants and for the toys, so the only history they have is oral.
Amongst the elves it is known as the tragedy of Santa Claus.
At the beginning of February the head elf gathered his team and left several senior elves in charge of toy production. The crew were known as the SRP, Santa Recovery Project.
According to legend the first time it happened the elves had recruited a Santa. It had been a disaster. Instead they now built Santa's right from the ground up.
The first few months were spent building the body. This was easy. They chose random genes from random species and let them battle it out. This time Santa Claus was going to be a black panther, which was good as it had been a while since Santa had been a Feline. They tweaked and twiddled with his genome, inserting attribute he needed. Muscles, fat deposits, a large booming voice, a friendly smile, a beard that grew white despite his natural fur colouring.
The next step was harder but not impossible. They aged the body. They aged it and then stopped it, froze it's decay so that Santa would remain the same age forever. To a degree he was immortal, time was not his enemy. Diseases, drugs, guns, heights, you name it he was vulnerable to it, but age wouldn't touch him.
The last step was the hardest. They had their Santa but he was empty, as devoid of knowledge and a new born of any species. They filled him with drug, as their instruction manuals told them to do, and sat him in front of the machine. It fed Santa a stream of information non stop while the drugs kept him receptive.
This was where Santa developed his jolly personality, his ever present smile, his diligence and care and respect and love for all the children around the world. It was also where they were trying to solve the problem, to end the tragedy of Santa Claus.
The elves had learnt the hard way that despite everything Santa was mortal. Countless generations ago the original Santa had died. Some people said he killed himself like a lot of the modern Santa's others said he was killed by an accident and yet others said he died of old age, as the original Santa was not ageless. No one knew for sure. But he died and left a gap.
Children still believed in Santa, there was a Santa shaped hole in the world that parents tried to fill and did so for a while however overtime the belief wained and threatened to disappear forever. That is until one of the brilliant elves said instead of building toys that were no longer being delivered they should build a new Santa. Thousands of Elves working around the clock working on one goal achieved something more than humanity had ever dreamed.
A new Santa.
But the new Santa's were never the same. They lacked a certain spark, a certain something, the original Santa had possessed and they didn't. The new Santa's filled the Santa shaped hole and children started believing again. At first everything was fine, at first there were no problems, Santa was alive, the elves built toys, good kids got toys, naughty kids got coal and order was restored.
However...
He's making a list,
And checking it twice;
Gonna find out Who's naughty and nice.
Santa Claus is coming to town
He sees you when you're sleeping
He knows when you're awake
He knows if you've been bad or good
So be good for goodness sake!
Santa has far more knowledge than any person in the world. At a glance he knows a person's name, their karmic alignment, their wishes and desires. The entire year it bubbles in the back of his brain and any contact with a non elf could drive him mad. Of course he was still mortal so having him avoid people entirely would drive him mad too. The elves had to be careful he only got to know people who no longer believed in Santa.
In November the elves did trial runs with the New Santa. At one point they had numbered them but they had long since lost count. This Santa was called Santa and that was that. As far as this Santa was concerned he was the only Santa that had ever been or ever will be.
It ran through his bones, his blood, his brain and, yes, his belly. He could pilot the reindeer through the air with the greatest of ease, as though reindeer were meant to fly. Take off, landings, rough weather he mastered them all, though master implies learning and he already knew them.
The trickiest of chimneys barely even slowed him down and he moved so silently that any secret agent would have given their left nut or breast to be able to do the same. He had an infinite appetite to milk, cookies, rum and other foods that would be left behind. In short, he was ready.
All the elves left on Christmas day as Santa took off on his sleight ride. All except the head elf. They had learnt the hard way that the first Christmas was make or break. Even if they survived the year knowing millions of children's faces, name gifts and status on the naughty or nice list there was one other thing about Santa.
He delivered all the toys to all the children in one night. An endless night that only he inhabited that wouldn't end until the toys were delivered. At first it had been fine, there weren't too many kids. But as the population increased and more and more kids learnt about Santa, believed in Santa the longer the night wore on. The more toys he had to deliver. No mortal mind could handle it.So now Santa's came with an expiry date and they got shorter and shorter and shorter.
It is boxing day and the new Santa is sleeping peacefully. The head elf checks on him and nods to himself, a job well done. He gathers his things and gets ready to go to the other elves. and tonight he will sit his son down on his lap and tell him the Tragedy of Santa Claus.