by JW Fiction
An FBI agent reluctantly tracks down a jaded Santa Claus in the North Pole.
| I remember the old days of Christmas, before the legislature renamed it to Annual Gift Holiday. Christmas cheer and Christmas spirit emanated from children's eyes as they hung their stockings by the fireplace and left milk and cookies for the universally beloved Santa Claus. Jolly Old St. Nick, as he used to be known, laughed in delight as he brought toy trains and dolls and games to the children of the world. Some time ago, however, when I was preparing to graduate from the F.B.I. academy in Quantico, Virginia, the spirit of Christmas began to fade.
After nearly five years with only moderate success, the public became unsupportive of the No Child Left Behind Act. It was an election year, and the GOP was desperate to swing public support back in their favor. They decided to rename the act the Present Under Every Tree Act, and it ensured that every child would receive the same quality Christmas gift. Under the new regulations, each American Boy was to receive a green plastic soldier, and each American girl was to receive a generic plastic doll. When word of this new legislature reached the North Pole, Jolly old St. Nick had to hault production in his workshop for North America.
I remember Christmas Eve of that year. I arrived at Logan International Airport for the holidays at close to ten o'clock that night, and my ride had been caught in the blizzard. After failing to find a taxi driver crazy enough to drive me, I prepared to make camp outside my terminal. I molded a pillow out of a pile of my shirts and started making myself comfortable when I heard the alarm go off. I sat up to see airport security swarm around a man in red, and stood to see Saint Nick himself pressed against the wall of the terminal as security tore open gift boxes from his sack of presents. It turned out that Santa had crossed into a no-fly-zone and was forced to land at Logan International. I, along with many other travelers stuck in Logan International that tragic Christmas Eve, stared in sorrow as the police handcuffed Santa Claus and took him away.
Christmas was canceled that year, and returned the following winter as Annual Gift Holiday. Production of the generic toys was moved to Alaska, where the most disgruntled of the United States Postal Service were sent to manufacture the toys. After several fatal shootings three months after manufacturing began, the production was outsourced to India, where it was more cost efficient to produce the toys.
I was working in the department of International Terrorism at the F.B.I. headquarters in our nation's capital when I next saw Santa again. I attended a briefing in which photographic evidence was presented to us that indicated that Santa had been in recent contact with several high ranking Al-Quaida officials at his North Pole workshops. It was believed that he and his elves were producing weapons of mass destruction and selling them to the highest bidders, specifically Iraq, Iran, North Korea, and high profile terrorist organizations. I had trouble digesting the fact that the man who once gleefully slid down the chimmneys of North America could now be plotting to blow it all up.
I was then assigned to observe the criminal activities going on in the North Pole. Since the Logan International incident, the North Pole had become a place infested with crime, drugs, and prostitution. I assisted the local police in their daily routines as I collected intelligence for my assignment. Shortly after I arrived, however, I was forced to shift my focus.
On a dreary December morning, my local colleagues and I were patrolling the streets surrounding the workshops when we witnessed two Snowmen engaging in selling crack cocaine to homeless elves. Ever since the creation of Annual Gift Holiday, Snowmen and other former holiday symbols had become obsolete. Decorations became illegal in a deceivingly worded passage of the Present Under Every Tree Act, leaving the Snow population out of work, and many turned to lives of crime to survive.
We arrested the two Snowmen and put them in the back of our cruiser to take them to the station. The political and social quagmire that I'm sure you remember, ensued after the two Snowmen were accidentally killed when the heat was turned on too high in the cruiser. A local journalist recorded a video of the remains being pulled from the cruiser, and when it turned up on 60 Minutes the following weekend, the Snow community was furious. There were riots in US Shopping centers in the North Pole. The local McDonalds and Dunkin Donuts were destroyed, but the Snow community didn't feel progress was being made.
Annual Gift Holiday was cancelled that year when the Snow population marched in Washington. Their leaders preached for equal rights, for better jobs, and fair treatment in society. Their campaign was beginning to heat up when tragedy struck again on New Year's Eve. A mass convention was held in a local college stadium to continue to preach equal rights. A blackout occurred from the unprecedented number of air conditioners required for the convention, and nearly fifteen thousand Snow Men, Women, and Children lost their lives when they were unable to control the temperature.
The nation was shocked from the unprecedented number of lives lost on our soil, and perhaps out of guilt, the Snow population was granted full and equal rights. The remains of those who perished in the stadium meltdown were placed in a man-made pond in our nation's capital to pay respect to the victims.
Because that affair demanded so much of our time, the F.B.I. had been unable to keep close watch on Santa and his workshops. After a brief leave of absence, I returned to the North Pole to resume my observations the following winter. The North Pole hadn't changed much, besides the migration of the Snow Population. The US invaded southern Vancouver and created a state for the Snow Population to reside. There are still tensions and fighting between the Snow and the Canadians in that corner of North America.
A week before Annual Gift Holiday, we learned that there was a plot to attack Logan International Airport and the city of Boston. We learned from our intelligence that Santa was plotting to fly over with his sleigh in a suicide mission and detonate a nuclear warhead that he had been developing with Iran and North Korea.
On the eve of Annual Gift Holiday, I participated in the raid on Santa's workshop. We stormed in and were startled and embarrassed to find that Santa had turned it into a sweatshop, forcing his elves to manufacture an incredible number of sex toys and other pornographic material. We recovered a "naughty list," which included all of his buyers and clients. However, there were no signs of the warhead or any other WMD's for that matter. The search for WMDs in the North Pole continues to this day.
I took another brief leave of absence after the workshop incident. I had trouble coping with what we found that day in Santa's Workshop. The man I idolized in my youth had become a sweatshop operating pervert. I don't have much time to dwell on that, though, as I am preparing to resume my work in the Department of International Terrorism. I received an e-mail last night briefing me on my next assignment. Another Leprechaun in Ireland has been molesting children he lures to the end of the rainbow.