December 24, 1988
Santa exhaled a weary, “Ho-ho-ho”. He was in the homestretch of his annual trip. This year’s journey was especially difficult. There were several wars to navigate, and, a massive, climate-driven blizzard in North America.
Despite him being a role model for generosity and goodwill, the world was getting more troubled. Greed, hate, violence, poverty and environmental destruction were rampant. Nick wasn’t naïve. He knew these things went in cycles. However, the trend was getting worse. The Naughty List was longer every year. More people demanded more things, while wishes to help others were scarce. Even milk and cookies left for him were a rare occurrence. Environmentalists bashed him for still giving coal to the worst offenders.
It was draining him. As he approached the West Coast, and the end of his work for the year, he didn’t have the usual upbeat feeling. In fact, Santa was a little cranky.
Sweeping into the Los Angeles basin, he noticed a commotion. There were helicopters, police vehicles and spotlights at the Nakatomi Tower. Santa banked hard to check it out. The top of the building was blown apart and the charred remains of a police truck marred the base. “What the Hell?”, he mumbled. The elf turned tight to the building for a closer view.
Using his sensitive hearing, Kris cut through the chaos of voices and noise. He heard gunshots, then “Happy Trails, Hans”, followed by shattering glass.
“Was that Detective John McClane?” What was he doing here instead of New York City, Santa wondered?
A plummeting body crashed into the reindeer and tossed him from the sleigh. Santa barely held onto the reins. He dangled precariously above the cement plaza where Hans had died hard and struggled to re-enter.
Righting himself, his heart raced and sweat stained his red suit. Nicholas fought to catch his breath, “Damn!” Prancer was seriously injured from the impact. Furious, Santa shook his fist, “This is the thanks I get for all I’ve done? No more!”
Whipping the reins, Kris Kringle shouted “On Donner, on Blitzen.” He turned away from Los Angeles. “Back to the North Pole. Let’s see how the world does without Santa anymore.” As he departed, he bitterly spat out, “Yippee-ki-yay, motherfuckers.”
INSTANT NOODLES 