North Pole on Lockdown: a Christmas Story
Dec 25, 2020 5:50:58 GMT
stevep, James G, and 4 more like this
Post by spanishspy on Dec 25, 2020 5:50:58 GMT
Preface: this is an updated form of my previous holiday specials that have been posted to some decent reception. Honestly, I think they've been in decline, and this may well be my last one. It didn't turn out as well as I had hoped.
Christmas Eve, 2020
The stars twinkled above the North Pole. Searchlights on watchtowers surveyed the frosty landscape. The snow sparkled even if the world was convulsed in plague.
The elven sentries stood at the towers, and on the wall. There was the occasional machine gun post.
One of the searchlights found something.
No.
Someone.
The klaxons in that particular security area blared. Out of a garage hidden in a mound of snow burst several sentry sleighs intent on surveying the intrusion.
The someone simply froze. He put his hands up.
He was quite short.
“What are you here for?” asked one of the elves. Like all the elves nowadays, they wore masks.
“I want to see Santa Claus.”
The elves conferred with one another. Eventually, they all nodded. “Please enter the back of the sleigh.”
He did so. The elves locked the door. He was quite short, and fit inside easily. One of the masked elves kept his hands on his rifle.
The sleigh entered the walled city. It was darker than usual on Christmas Eve than in normal times. The newcomer looked around the North Pole with great dismay. The North Pole was supposed to be brimming with tinsel and ringed with little lights all over, and elves springing this way and that.
There were only masked elves clutching rifles on patrol.
There was no joy and no holiday cheer. There was only a fatigued resolve, one that was intimately familiar to the boy who had spirited himself up here.
The whole thing was cold. Not just in the way the Arctic inevitably is, but on a more fundamental level. There was no human goodness in it at all.
They stopped. They gave him a mask, which he pulled behind his ears as was the regular order.
“Wait here,” ordered one of the elves guarding him. They were in a big entryway into some very large building. Some more masked elves came down into the foyer.
“First human here since Fauci came with the vaccine,” one of them remarked pithily.
They brought him into a massive chamber. In the back was a massive chair at the head of a similarly massive table. At the table sat the elves. At the chair sat the man himself. They were all masked.
One of the elven guards handed the child a bottle of hand sanitizer. He slathered his hands in the transparent goo.
The chatter at the table stopped. The entire council stared at him.
“Who goes there?” sternly bellowed an elf with what appeared to be a military uniform. His coat had the nametag ‘Bellringer’ on it.
“My name is Billy. I’m from Boston.”
“Why did you come all the way from Boston? It’s a very long way.”
“Because I was afraid that Christmas would be canceled. I want Santa Claus to still deliver presents.”
“The virus is a threat to our security,” replied Bellringer. “We need to remain here.”
There was more chatter.
The Minister of Defense spoke again. “And the world doesn’t deserve any joy this year.”
The chatter stopped abruptly.
“But we need it,” replied Billy from Boston.
“Why?” spat the defense minister.
“Because my best friend’s grandaddy is in the hospital. He needs to be happy. So does the rest of the world.”
“You don’t need happy!” spat Bellringer. “You need safety! You need discipline! You need to learn how to care for one another!”
The crowd erupted once more. Billy was scared. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.
“Enough!” boomed a stentorian voice from the chair in the back.
The jolly man stood up.
“All of you mutter about the tiny points of protocol. We do have masks. We do have safety precautions.” Santa Claus marched towards Billy. “Thank you for believing,” he said to the child.
“So are you going?”
Claus replied, “we’re going.”
Christmas Eve, 2020
The stars twinkled above the North Pole. Searchlights on watchtowers surveyed the frosty landscape. The snow sparkled even if the world was convulsed in plague.
The elven sentries stood at the towers, and on the wall. There was the occasional machine gun post.
One of the searchlights found something.
No.
Someone.
The klaxons in that particular security area blared. Out of a garage hidden in a mound of snow burst several sentry sleighs intent on surveying the intrusion.
The someone simply froze. He put his hands up.
He was quite short.
“What are you here for?” asked one of the elves. Like all the elves nowadays, they wore masks.
“I want to see Santa Claus.”
The elves conferred with one another. Eventually, they all nodded. “Please enter the back of the sleigh.”
He did so. The elves locked the door. He was quite short, and fit inside easily. One of the masked elves kept his hands on his rifle.
The sleigh entered the walled city. It was darker than usual on Christmas Eve than in normal times. The newcomer looked around the North Pole with great dismay. The North Pole was supposed to be brimming with tinsel and ringed with little lights all over, and elves springing this way and that.
There were only masked elves clutching rifles on patrol.
There was no joy and no holiday cheer. There was only a fatigued resolve, one that was intimately familiar to the boy who had spirited himself up here.
The whole thing was cold. Not just in the way the Arctic inevitably is, but on a more fundamental level. There was no human goodness in it at all.
They stopped. They gave him a mask, which he pulled behind his ears as was the regular order.
“Wait here,” ordered one of the elves guarding him. They were in a big entryway into some very large building. Some more masked elves came down into the foyer.
“First human here since Fauci came with the vaccine,” one of them remarked pithily.
They brought him into a massive chamber. In the back was a massive chair at the head of a similarly massive table. At the table sat the elves. At the chair sat the man himself. They were all masked.
One of the elven guards handed the child a bottle of hand sanitizer. He slathered his hands in the transparent goo.
The chatter at the table stopped. The entire council stared at him.
“Who goes there?” sternly bellowed an elf with what appeared to be a military uniform. His coat had the nametag ‘Bellringer’ on it.
“My name is Billy. I’m from Boston.”
“Why did you come all the way from Boston? It’s a very long way.”
“Because I was afraid that Christmas would be canceled. I want Santa Claus to still deliver presents.”
“The virus is a threat to our security,” replied Bellringer. “We need to remain here.”
There was more chatter.
The Minister of Defense spoke again. “And the world doesn’t deserve any joy this year.”
The chatter stopped abruptly.
“But we need it,” replied Billy from Boston.
“Why?” spat the defense minister.
“Because my best friend’s grandaddy is in the hospital. He needs to be happy. So does the rest of the world.”
“You don’t need happy!” spat Bellringer. “You need safety! You need discipline! You need to learn how to care for one another!”
The crowd erupted once more. Billy was scared. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.
“Enough!” boomed a stentorian voice from the chair in the back.
The jolly man stood up.
“All of you mutter about the tiny points of protocol. We do have masks. We do have safety precautions.” Santa Claus marched towards Billy. “Thank you for believing,” he said to the child.
“So are you going?”
Claus replied, “we’re going.”
