Christmas Puppy

“I know it’s just a story now, but when I was a kid Santa was real.”

“Whatever Mom.”

“I will tell you The Tale of How Santa Died.”

“Long before you were born, back when I was a little girl. Santa was alive. He did all the things the old stories say. He slid down chimneys. He left presents for kids. He filled our stockings with goodies if we were good. If we were bad or naughty, we would get coal. He would drink a glass of milk and eat a cookie before he would fly up the chimney and go to the next house. And some how, magically, he visited every house in the entire world in one night.”

“It was the year 2023. Coal was no longer something that Santa could get. The coal mines were closed, or transformed in diamond factories. He had nothing for the naughty kids, and he had nothing to use to heat in his workshops. So Santa invented cold fusion.”

“Mom, that’s not true. The inventor of cold fusion was Dr. Frankenstein.”

“No, it was Santa. Dr. F. Rankenberg, not Frankenstein, recovered it from Santa’s workshop after the Great Explosion.”

“No way, Mom.”

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