Waking The Dead 10

Hello, Gentle reader, this is my famous Christmas Eve Interview with Kris, as in Kris Kringle. You know, Saint Nicholas. Okay you unimaginative traditionalists: SANTA CLAUS!!!!! I was Skyping with him today, and boy did he have a few things to tell me! You are not going to believe any of this. I hardly believe what I heard. First of all, I couldn't find him at the North Pole. I at first assumed that he had to get an early start on his famous sleigh, since the world population is triple what it was when Coca-Cola made him famous back when my mother was a kid. You don't want to know how long ago that was. Well, it turned out, after doing several advanced and exhaustive searches, that Santa no longer lives at the North Pole. In fact, Santa Claus has never lived in the North Pole, nor anywhere near the Arctic Circle. It turns out, that right now, he is in Costa Rica, where I reached him. Here is the condensed version of our conversation, and everything will be explained: "Thank you, Aaron, for actually tracking me down. Others have tried in the past, but no one thought of searching anywhere south of Baffin Island. I try to cover my tracks, you might say. Yes, about my permanent residence. I don't have one. I tend to visit my private homes in Grand Cayman and here in Costa Rica. The North Pole is where I used to work but I never lived there. Too cold. Actually, I shut everything down back in the forties. The war was making everything unstable and scary, and then there were problems with the elves. Yes, Aaron, my elves. You will all know about them, my dear green suited little helpers. Ah...they were cute, weren't they? But then that Tolkien guy wrote all his books about hobbits and high elves, turned famous and then there was no rest for the wicked! The little buggers thought they were every bit as special and beautiful as the high elves of Lothlorien, got quite an attitude and tried to unionize! That's right, kiddo, they weren't only expecting me to pay them. The little blighters wanted a living wage! How's that for the Spirit of Christmas! I gave them all they wanted, free room and board and plenty of board games, since the nights get pretty long up there, and this is their way of repaying me! They had the colossal gall to accuse me of slavery, they went on a series of devastating strikes, profits were soon down (yeah, I was getting paid, but that's a long story and we don't have a lot of time right now, plus the connection's a bit wobbly, and the world doesn't need to know about my investment portfolio.) Well, I fired all of them, and they all moved to Middle Earth. Last I heard some of them were getting bit parts and were working as extras on Peter Jackson's sets in New Zealand, and I think some of them even appeared in Harry Potter, but that's pure conjecture. Then there was the problem with the reindeer. They cost a lot to feed you know, so I sold them off as meat and invested the money in my new cabana at Playa Jaco, or that's Jaco Beach, in Costa Rica, where I am right now. It hasn't been an easy transition, but it's been profitable and I like to think that I can retire in style. I've opened a wellness and fitness spa here and all the Gringos come here now from the States, we even get a few from Canada. It's amazing what people will pay for, and even though I charge them top dollar, they get bang for their buck. I've collaborated with Gwyneth Paltrow and you wouldn't believe some of the gross concoctions I've got them drinking for their weekly cleanse. We're in it fifty-fifty. I just make sure that no one is around to teach them about the natural functions of the human liver. Of course it's all hokum and Buddha-babble, but it makes them all feel better and centred but they're not experiencing any divine revelation, thank God, and oh no, did I actually say it like that? Oh, the irony. Well, what I meant to say, is it isn't turning them into religious fanatics who want to change the world and save everyone from themselves and keep this world from going to hell. It just makes them nice and happy and complacent and they feel so good about themselves. No threat to the established order. And they are even more what I want them to be: self-centred little consumers, only now they spend bankrolls on yoga pants. I have a partnership with Lululemon. No worries. Some of my folks here look pretty darn good in yoga pants. Even some of the guys. So, when I shut the works down up north I had to outsource so I sold my brand to all the mega-stores and corporations and it's been all cheesecake and strawberries ever since. They pay me beautifully for my brand and now I even have all of you wearing my dear little hats starting just after Halloween. It's lovely being recognized, even lovelier if it's brand recognition. Of course, we still can't totally get rid of that kid in the stable. You know who I'm talking about: shepherds, angels, cows and sheep and three kings of the Orient and all. And no, I'm not going to mention him by name, you already know who I am talking about. It seems that no matter how hard we try, we still can never get him out of the picture. I was just at a meeting at Bilderberg, then another one at Davos and no matter how we strategize, the kid in the stable sticks like overcooked pasta. There's no getting rid of him, and no matter how much we tell people to buy and eat and consume and drink themselves stupid, there's still all those obnoxious Christmas songs. I don't mean the good ones like, I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause or Santa Baby, or Grandma Got Run Over By A Reindeer. I mean actual hymns like Joy to the World or Come All Ye Faithful. Yikes! Even mentioning them makes my skin crawl! Next time we're in Bilderberg we'll come up with that one sure-fire marketing strategy to get the kid in the stable out of the holiday. He is one tenacious little bugger and then there's his mom and dad, but hey, I'm down here to enjoy myself so let's change the subject, eh? Santa was just about to sign off when I commented about his longevity and asked him about his secret. here is his reply: "My secret for living for thousands of years? Very simple." Then his smile widened till he showed two enormous fangs, almost like tusks and out slithered a long reptilian tongue. There was a sudden odour of sulphur. "It's all in the genes, kiddo", he said, It's all in the genes." Then he let loose an evil menacing laugh that echoed everywhere. He disappeared from the screen and my laptop crashed. I don`t think I can get it fixed. It`s still smoking and reeking of sulphur. Merry Christmas, Gentle Reader!