Dark Knight Before Christmas

Twas the night before Christmas, and at the North Pole, landed a pilot with a heart of coal.

Landing the little plane wasn't easy, though sleds don't do vertical takeoffs. The wheels of the little Cesna melted some of the snow packed down to make a runway for the reindeer, and it almost overbalanced before coming to a stop.

A pilot wearing a heavy parka got out of the plane immediately. He stalked directly towards the toy factory, which could easily be distinguished because of the lights and noise. Theoretically toy production had been scheduled to conclude several weeks ago, but there were always some last minute lists sent in, and some children who had been good enough in the weeks before Christmas to be provisionally reclassified.

The pilot stormed through the giant double doors. Locating the heavyset man in red among all the short elves in green wasn't hard. Indeed, a deep and jolly voice boomed out. "Good to see so many requests for wooden blocks. I always love those old fashioned toys. If you'll take two of the lathes off the pogo stick detail I think we can fill them all. On the other hand, the boy genius is just plain crazy. Even if he's the youngest student ever admitted as a pre-med, asking me for his own cadaver to practice on was just plain silly. We're not going to be able to give his brother areal airplane either. "

The pilot strode up and interrupted. "Mr. Clause, I'm an undercover reporter investigating the war on Christmas."

Santa frowned, but his voice was still jolly as he replied. "I am rather busy right now, but I'm pleased you're encouraging people to celebrate the Spirit of Christmas. Good will towards men, that's what I always say."

The reporter leaned forward aggressively. "That's part of the problem. You never mention the reason for the season. Shouldn't that be good will towards Christians? And shouldn't you be more grateful we keep politically correct people from making you say 'men and women'?"

Santa spoke slowly. "I'm mostly concerned about the children, and giving them a happy holiday."

His tormentor jutted out his chin aggressively. "Did I hear you say happy holidays instead of Merry Christmas?"

It seemed Santa had had enough. "Of course you did. I'm sure you've noticed all these stories of reindeer and snowmen are equally suited for all occasions."

The reporter clenched his hands into fists. "I notice you never get any older. Is that why you never think about heaven?"

Santa nodded agreeably, but his deep voice was slightly louder. "Elves don't age either, did you know? Want to make something of it?"

The reporter was shouting now. "It's just as I suspected. You're an undercover agent in the War on Christmas! You'll find a little present on our next television broadcast."

The reporter turned to go, but Santa wasn't finished. "Get him Elves! And we have a present for the kid who wanted his own plane and the med student who needed a cadaver too!"