Troublesome Musings Contest entry. |
It was five months until Christmas, And Santa was in real dismay. There were lots of toys to be made, But more elves than he could pay. Labor costs were shooting through the roof, Materials were on short supply, Santa sat at his jolly, red desk, Put his head down, and started to cry. “What’s wrong, Santa?” Mrs. Claus asked, “Why is my big Santa so blue?” “The North Pole is broke,” said Santa, “And I just don’t know what to do!” “Hush now, Santa,” Mrs. Claus told him, “You just leave everything up to me. There will be lots of toys this Christmas, And we will make a profit times three!” Mrs. Claus went to the kitchen, And tied her checkered apron tight. She’d be damned if too many elves Would interrupt her happy life! She made a double batch of cocoa, And gave the highest paid elves a taste. She smiled wide as they took a sip, Not knowing the hot cocoa was laced. That year when Christmas had arrived, Sitting on every toy store shelf, Were candy cane colored boxes, Each one with a little dead elf. Their little elf innards were now stuffed, And their little button eyes now sewn, Along with their darling, little mouths, Where a wide, cross stitched smile now shown. Forever happy in their box, Resting on beds of red tissue, Every boy and girl wanted one. Price wasn’t even an issue. Santa, when he heard the jolly news, Let out a big bellied “Ho, Ho, Ho!” “Here, Santa,” Mrs. Claus wryly said, “Let’s celebrate with some hot cocoa!” |