Santa's Helper

16 December 1998 - SANTA'S HELPER

I've stopped harvesting human flesh, and now have a new job working in Santa Claus's toy workshop at the North Pole. Though Christmas hasn't even happened yet this year, we've already started planning for next year's Christmas.

On the agenda at the moment is which toy will be subject to panic-buying induced shortages in 1999. My vote goes to "Rubber Boy", a sort of rubber cat with a big spike coming out of his face, but Santa favours a new type of chocolate pig.

17 December 1998 - SANTA'S HELPER

There are real benefits to working for Santa Claus, but the man's a hard taskmaster who doesn't take kindly to slackers. Last night he called a couple of slackers into his office and beat them up.

Then later, he came out of his office and punched a couple of slackers in the ribs and attacked another slacker sitting in a chair with a candy cane. After this he made an announcement that he was going to "get" all the slackers in the toy workshop, and you know what? He did - he got them good.

18 December 1998 - SANTA'S HELPER

Santa Claus has instigated a few new rules for those of us who toil in his toy workshop. From midnight tonight, none of us are allowed to use the word "toy" when referring to "toys". We must refer to them as "item 47".

Also, Santa has flooded the floor of the workshop, so that we're now all constructing toys while wading around in two feet of water. If we get any of the "item 47s" wet, a big buzzer goes off and Santa descends from the ceiling on wires and attacks the culprit with a Bible.

22 December 1998 - SANTA'S HELPER

Being a shopping centre Santa is a lot of work, but it has its moments. I've managed to convince my manager that what Christmas could do with this year is some modernisation. I have chosen to replace the traditional "Ho ho ho", with a more contemporary "May the Force be with you".

Also, I have swapped my traditional red and white garb for a brown, hooded cloak. The final addition to my ensemble, is replacing the sack full of gifts, with a long, glowing pole - not unlike a lightsabre.

24 December 1998 - SANTA'S HELPER

I've been sacked from my job as a shopping centre Santa Claus, following a bizarre incident during which I streaked from my "grotto" half-naked, and with my hair on fire. My manager wouldn't accept my explanation that I had been attacked by a "fire nymph", and accused me of setting the fire to show off.

I had the last laugh, though, when I told a joke to which only I understood the punchline. Oh yes — I walked out of that office laughing real hard.

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