When Santa hires an elf, he sends them to Elf University.
There, they learn everything they need to know to work at Santa’s Workshop: making toys, loading them into the sleigh, maintaining the sleigh, and managing the reindeer.
The younger elves do the manual labor, while the experienced ones go into design or management.
And when they can’t do any job anymore, they’re sent to the university to teach.
Santa used an internship and apprenticeship program before, but too many elves got hurt and killed that way.
It’s much safer to put them on the simulators.
Less damage that way.
The explosion
Despite the world’s population exploding, Santa had to do with the same number of elves and reindeer.
They had to start work earlier and earlier in the year, and work longer hours.
And the earlier they started, the more changes to wish lists there were.
The kids themselves moved around the lists from nice to naughty and back again.
Not to mention the fakes and scammers and scalpers.
Santa tried to computerize it all, but it’s hard powering workstations and a datacenter that far North.
He broke down, ended up in a Norwegian asylum, and sits staring at the trees.
The Baptist
John the Baptist needed a Christ.
He’d announced that the messiah would be arriving soon to lead the Jews out from under Roman rule.
So, when he saw Jesus, he figured the stoneworker for a good enough messiah.
“Come join me in this lake for a minute,” said John.
“Okay, that’s a bit weird,” said Jesus.
But he did it anyway, and had a vision.
“Shit, dude, you okay?” said John, who had dragged Jesus to the shore and got the water out of his lungs. “Don’t sue me, okay?”
“All’s cool, bro,” said Jesus. “Wanna go wandering?”
They did.
Were they really wise?
They say that the three wise men followed a star to the place of Jesus’ birth.
But if they were so wise, why would they follow a star?
That doesn’t sound very wise to me.
The little drummer boy found Jesus, and he didn’t follow a star.
Jesus’ mother Mary was worried about the star.
“If the Romans follow the star, they’ll find us and kill us,” she said.
So they bundled everything up and fled the barn, setting it on fire to cover their tracks.
“Nobody born here,” said the wise men to the arriving soldiers. “Nope. Not here.”
Weekly Challenge #816 – BEE
LIZZIE
I am a good mother. I fed you and took you to where you needed to go. I gave you books for school and I kept you clean. I was a busy bee till you became the annoying teenager you were. There was this time when you fell down the stairs and I did nothing, just watched. I hate interfering. I am a good mother. I put up with your friends till I managed to push them away from our house. They were too cheerful. Peace at last. But now we don’t talk. And it’s all your fault… your fault.
RICHARD
Honey
Old Tom’s honey was acclaimed for its quality, freshness and delicious flavour. Rumours abounded as to how he managed to achieve such consistent results, but nobody really knew how he did it.
So, I was recruited to infiltrate his farm, on the pretence of an apprenticeship, to learn his secrets at first hand, although I’ll confess, I’ve still no idea how he did it!
You see, Old Tom, could speak Bee!
He’d converse with them on the phone and they’d tell him the perfect time for harvesting.
So, I stole his phone.
And now I have my very own beeline!
SERENDIPIDY
They call me the Queen Bee, because I’ve modelled my dominion on the principle of the bee hive.
I sit at its centre, gorging myself on all that is good in life, whilst my lackeys and drones spend their lives attending to my every need.
They feed me, fan me and dance for me, and bring me the choicest gifts from far and wide.
There are those, of course, who will harbour jealousy.
But my soldiers are the best there are, and they will defend me against any assault.
Even though they know their death in combat is a certainty.
TOM
What Could GO Possible Wrong 016
Molly gave a glance at the Captain that spoke volumes. Ford noted a tiny motion in the captain’s hand, as he moved it from the pint glass towards his belt. Not good, thought Ford trying to untangle limbs to get a grip of his watch stem. It was time to get out of dodge, most likely with Molly in tow. In the middle of this slow-motion duel Molly dryly added the accelerant, “You’re the bee’s knees, deary” Now it was a race between the dagger and the watch. It would have been a tie but from the thickening liquid blue.
TURA
There’s a problem with bees dying off. Everything gets blamed: persistent insecticides, microplastics, endocrine disruptors, global warming, but no-one really knows why.
People say “be the change you want to see in the world”, but I think we’d should try genetic engineering, and change the bee we want to see in the world. But we’d have to choose the right strain to experiment on. We first need to see the bee we want to change in the world.
And we’d have to get the public on board. They have to see the change we want to be in the world.
NORVAL JOE
“That’s very interesting,” Billbert said. “I’m not sure what jelly fish and cloud formations have to do with me coming here. I’m sure the next thing you’ll tell me is a honey bee buzzed in your ear that I’m supposed to rescue a princess in a tower somewhere.”
Sabrina rolled her eyes. “Don’t be silly. There aren’t any captured princesses around here. What you need to do is accompany me to a secret rite of passage ceremony.”
Billbert swallowed. “A witch’s ceremony? What are the chances I’ll end up being turned into a frog?”
Sabrina frowned. “Not very high, really.”
PLANET Z
Wendy was as busy as a bee, her parents said.
But she was as nasty as a wasp.
From dawn to dusk, beating up her classmates for lunch money and homework.
Quizzes and tests all done for her by others.
Collecting bows and ribbons in her hair from all her conquests.
Her shoes, dress, and jacket… all taken in combat.
She graduated top of her class, but in college, failed miserably.
Expelled for bullying.
She ended up marrying a series of weak, little men.
When she’s rude to the nursing home staff, they park her wheelchair out in the rain.
10 Ho 20 Go to 10
A mountain of letters arrived at the North Pole every day.
No matter how many elves he had go through the pile, it would just grow bigger and bigger.
Santa had a team of elves write a database.
And they scanned the letters into the database.
Were they good or bad?
Governments spied on their citizens all the time.
So did big tech companies.
The elves hacked into the those databases, cross-referencing and coming up with a score.
Automating manufacturing and shipping made the holidays a breeze.
Santa kept a skeleton crew to maintain the systems, and fired the rest.
Season’s Beatings
Usually, kids ask Santa for a bicycle or video games or other things.
Sometimes, they ask for a new sister or brother.
But every now and then, one asks for their stepfather to stop beating them.
Santa hates these letters.
He’d call the cops to tip them off, but there’s no phone lines up at the North Pole.
So, when Santa does his dry run on December 24th, he brings a baseball bat and kneecaps these motherfuckers in their sleep.
Or drags them up to the sleigh, takes off, and throws them over the side on to the hard pavement.
Christmas Truce
The Christmas Truce in World War One, The War To End All Wars.
Exhausted and bloodied British and German troops lay down their guns, come out of their trenches, and meet in No Man’s Land.
They come together to share rations, drink together, and play soccer on the broken ground.
And they sing carols together.
Word reaches the generals, miles back from the front in their mansions-turned-headquarters.
They give the order to fight.
Messengers nod, get in their cars, thinking it over.
Perhaps a little engine trouble, maybe a flat tire.
Something to give the boys a little more time.
Rudolf’s father
Santa asked Rudolph to guide his sleigh through the fog.
As the elves put the harness on Rudolph, the crowd surrounding them cheered.
“I knew that nose would be useful some day,” said Rudolph’s father proudly.
This was the same reindeer who was ashamed of the glowing red nose.
The reindeer who made his son cover it up, no matter how uncomfortable it was.
Drove his son to tears, into exile.
And now, he was proud?
Fucking liar.
“Put him on the venison list,” whispered Rudolph. “Or I don’t fly.”
Rudolph’s father had been a jerk.
Now he was jerky.
Santa thieves
Twas the night before Christmas, Bob, Joe, and Ray stole some Santa suits and a van, and they went package pirating out in the suburbs.
They managed to get a pretty good haul, and they didn’t get caught. Twelve days in a row.
After scrubbing the van down and abandoning it, they checked out their haul.
Most of it was the usual cheap crap, groceries and stuff, but there was some jewelry and electronics and computer stuff that they could sell on eBay, or fence through their flea market pals.
“Merry Christmas!” they said, tapping their cans of beer together.