The Inside Scoop on Santa Claus

The elf set down the small toy truck he was tinkering with and sighed. It was twenty-five past twelve already, and Mr. Claus still had not yet called lunch break. The boss’ demeanor was not one you could particularly call compassionate, the elf reflected as he began to paint the toy truck red with a miniscule brush. His pointy, sensitive ears ached from the clamoring din in the workshop; the usual factory noises and harried shouts of seven thousand elves working in one astronomical room created a tumultuous racket that bounced around the four wooden walls and pierced the elf’s eardrums like nails scraping against a chalkboard.

As the young creature scanned the room dully, his eyes fell upon an exquisitely painted portrait of the legendary Santa Claus. The old man in the portrait had jolly cheeks the color of roses, benign blue eyes that sparkled with the twinkle of stars, and a neatly kept mane, mustache, and beard of blinding white hair. Well, the elf thought savagely, no matter how judicious and generous the humans believed Santa Claus was, he knew who his so-called “magical” boss was: a hardhearted and insensate director with no sympathy towards his hardworking elves. And those flying reindeer! The elf’s eyes grew dark with displeasure as he pictured those irritating animals tossing their heads jauntily and showing off their glossy antlers; their overconfident airs and obvious smugness were enough to drive anyone insane. Rudolph was all right though, the elf consented silently. The lead reindeer’s modesty and larkish ways made him fun to be around, although he did become slightly arrogant when his glowing red nose was greeted with exclamations of wonder and admiration.

A loud, jangling bell signaling lunchtime interrupted the elf’s unspoken reverie. The magical creature cast a cursory glance at his boss, annoyed. He was just getting started on Mrs. Claus and her urbane sense of fashion, not to mention her sophisticated wardrobe of stylish ballroom dresses and outlandish red high heels! But his stomach was growling desperately, and he longingly yearned for a break from his tedious toy making. With a gusty sigh, the elf got up from his chair and followed the rest of the elves from the workshop room to his temporary freedom.