Santa Online

In the olden days – when your parents were born – there weren’t so many children for Santa to visit. Nowadays, there are lots and they all wonder – how does Santa get around to everyone? Does he use computers? Now pay attention.

One Christmas, Santa’s CEO (Chief Elf Organizer) said, “Santa, we have to modernize our systems. All of our naughty and nice lists should be on computer. And we should tell children to send emails – not letters.”

Santa said, “What about children who live in Timbuktu?”

“Timbuktu is online,” the CEO said, “Look on my laptop.”

Santa saw all his elves waving from Timbuktu on skype.

“Goodness me,” Santa said, “What about Timbukthree?”

“You know there’s no such place,” his CEO laughed, “The elves are struggling to make enough talking dinosaurs and Whiz bikes for modern kids. In the olden days their parents were happy with lollipops.”

Santa frowned and then he said, “Go ahead – give it a try.”

The CEO elf clapped his hands and shouted, “You won’t be sorry Santa! Go and rest, we’ll do everything faster than magic!”

Santa nodded and went upstairs with a cup of hot cocoa from Mrs Santa and the CEO went to the Elf Invention Centre where all the young elves had long hair and worked in jeans and t-shirts.

“It’s a GO!” the CEO said.

“Cool!” said a young elf called Chuck, “Check this out. We’ve got computerized lists of children, robot reindeer and even a robot Santa. The real Santa won’t even have to go out on his sleigh this year. He can take a break and go to the Maldives.”

“Mrs Santa will be thrilled,” the CEO said, “She’s got a red bikini that she never had a chance to wear!”

Fred the Kind-Hearted Reindeer

Once upon a Christmas, there was an Awfully Cheap Store where people went hoping that they would not be horribly surprised. But usually they were.

As Christmas approached, the owner of The Awfully Cheap Store said, “We will make a rich fruity cake for rich people and a raisin loaf for in-between people and a really cheap and nasty brown sponge with raisin sprinkles for poor people.”

The workers in his bakery said, “Yes sir” and started baking but they felt very non-Christmassy and mean putting all the fruit in the rich cake and none in the poor cake.

Then the owner of The Awfully Cheap Store said, “We will have a massive turkey with stuffing and all the trimmings for the rich people and we will have a slab of pork with no trimmings for the in-between people and minced jelly beef for the poor people.”

The workers in the butchery said, “Yeeugh,” when they had to prepare the jelly beef but they did as they were told so that they didn’t lose their jobs over Christmas.

Then the owner of The Awfully Cheap Store said, “We will make up huge bags of chocolates wrapped in shiny papers for the rich people, and mixed toffees for the in-between people and paper bags of boiled sweets for the poor people.”

The workers in the sweet department said, “That’s not very sweet,” to each other, and wrapped up the packages with big sighs.

“Now,” the store owner said, “Everyone will see that I have provided Christmas for all people – rich and poor – isn’t that right staff?”

And his staff all said, “Yes sir” and nodded their red caps with the jingle bells on the end.

But there was one member of staff called Fred who did not nod a jingle cap. He had never been very good at following orders and the owner of The Awfully Cheap Store had put him in a reindeer suit and told him to prance up and down in front of the store with a sign that said, “Christmas is for everyone – rich and poor!”

Fred was fed up of prancing and was taking a break drinking a smoothie through a straw in his long reindeer muzzle. He saw a family walk into The Awfully Cheap Store. There was a man, a woman and two little girls. They were very thin and had dark circles under their eyes. They went into the store and put a nasty brown sponge, minced jelly beef and packet of boiled sweets into their shopping basket. Then they waited in line to pay.

Fred tried to stay sitting down like a good reindeer, but he frowned and frowned. (Luckily no one could see it under the mask.) Then he went into the store and walked up to the family, “I’m sorry, folks,” he said, “There has been a mistake.”

The Runaway Christmas Pudding

(Or why you should never put too much brandy in the pudding!)

One Christmas, too many aunts were helping to make dinner in the kitchen.

The Christmas pudding was sitting in a cotton bag, full of fruit, dates, nuts, sugar and other such goodness. It was not the pudding’s fault that the aunts interfered. It turned all its goodness to badness and it managed to escape.

It happened like this.

Aunt Slicer, who was tall thin and beaky was enjoying her Christmas sherry. She said, “This sherry is very good Arnold and although I usually stop at two glasses, I think I’ll have another.”

So she did.

Then she said, “The Christmas pudding doesn’t look quite right. I think I’ll give it an extra dose of this very good sherry.”

So she poured the sherry into the cotton bag and the Christmas pudding gobbled it all up like this “shlurp, shlurp, shlurp”.

Then Aunt Plop who was large, round and snubby was enjoying her Christmas port. She said, “This port is very good Arnold. I must say I usually only have one, or two, but tonight I’ll have three.”

Then she poked the Christmas pudding and said, “This doesn’t feel quite right. I think I’ll give it an extra dose of port.”

So she poured the port into the cotton bag and the Christmas pudding gobbled it all up like this – “burp, burp, burp”.

Then Aunt Jehosaphat who was small, nippy and interfering was enjoying her Christmas liqueur.

(At one time this almond liqueur was made by very serious monks who lived at the top of a mountain. They could not believe they had made something so delicious and when they drank it they all fell off the mountain and went rolling down into the valley. The recipe survived and it was fatal to the Christmas pudding.)

Aunt Jehosaphat said, “I don’t usually even have one glass of liqueur but this Almond Liqueur is so divine I will have four or five glasses.”

Then she squished the Christmas pudding and said, “This pudding looks like it needs some Almond Liqueur.”

So she poured the liqueur into the cotton bag and the Christmas pudding gobbled it all up like this – “BAAARP!”

Aunt Jehosaphat got a terrible fright and screamed.

Sloth Paints the Moon

SLOTH PAINTS THE MOON

Sloth lived in the Magic Jungle, next to the Unforgivable Lake.

“I love to sleep in the moonlight,” Sloth would croon.

And he would think about stuff.

If any jungle creature asked, “How can we find Sloth?”

The golden moths would say, “Just follow our trail.”

This meant leaving at night and following the shine of their wings to the heart of the Magic Jungle.

“Watch out!” the moths would whisper, “The Unforgivable Lake may flood and chase the animals away!”

But Sloth lived high up in a tree and water levels were not a problem. The problem was loud Macaw.

“Hey,” Sloth said softly (he always spoke very quietly), “What’s wrong with you bird?”

“I’ve got a HACK! Sorry SQUEAK! COUGH!” Macaw squawked.

So Sloth said, “Hey honeybees.”

And they said, “Yezzz?”

Sloth said, “Please give my bird here a little dose of your honey?”

So they did and with that and a little lemon juice, Macaw was much better and Sloth went back to thinking.

Thinking was very important. He spent hours in the same position just thinking. One evening, Sloth was thinking, “How could I visit the Moon?”

Crocodile Shoes

Ouch the Crocodile had very sensitive feet. In the water, he was fine, but as soon as he walked out on land, the stones were all poky and the twigs were all prickly and he said, “Ouch! Ouch! Ouch!” all the time.    

Ouch was not a wild and grabby croc. He liked to keep his finger and toenails looking neat and civilised. But out in the jungle there wasn’t a person for miles to do a croc pedicure. Ouch was cross.

 “It’s all the zoo’s fault,” he said, “If they hadn’t taken me out of my cosy home and thrown me back into the wild, I’d be happy, drinking pineapple shakes and having my nails done by Lila, the zookeeper’s daughter.” 

Ouch’s breakfast, lunch and supper was strictly vegetarian. He really disappointed his parents who loved their meat, especially if it was still moving.

Ouch loved fruit salad with paw-paws and oranges, washed down with coconut milk.

            “There could be another answer you know,” said Harold, the hippo.

Harold had also been relocated to the wild from a zoo and he was rubbing coconut oil all over his belly so that it wouldn’t burn pink in the sun.    

 “I need a hat,” Harold had said every day, until Germaine Giraffe, picked some leaves off the tallest trees and made him one.

Harold was only really happy when he was under the coolest water of the deepest pool, with only his nose and eyes peeping out.

“What is your answer?” Ouch asked, picking up his foot and plucking out a large thorn, ‘I’m thinking of running home.”

“Oh no,” Harold snorted, “They’d only make you into a handbag, or belt, or an ugly pair of shoes.”

“Ugly!” Ouch was very indignant, “I would make a fine pair of shoes!”

“Well,” Harold said, floating on his back, “You will have to make your own shoes and gloves. Then you won’t get hurt.”

Ouch thought about this for a while, so that several tickbirds came and sat on his nose.

“I’m very hygienic!” he said as they squawked angrily.

“What kind of shoes? What can I make them from?” Ouch said.

“What about people,” Harold said.

“I’m not going to make shoes out of a person?” Ouch squeaked.

“Why not?” said Harold, “they make them out of you.”

 “Guess what?” Germaine Giraffe said, dipping his long neck down to the watering hole. “There’s a human having a nap over there, under that tree and he’s taken off his shoes and gloves.”

Ouch and Harold jumped out of the water in surprise and crept up for a closer look.

Germaine said, “I think it is one of the game rangers - the ones who are supposed to keep an eye on us? He obviously feels very safe here, hat over his eyes and ….”

“…shoes off!” Ouch said triumphantly. “Oh, if only they would fit my large, fat feet and my chubby hands, I would be so happy, you could change my name to, Yay!”

Elbert the dassie went to measure the items. He was very quick. He snuck there and back so fast, that the other animals were still looking into the distance when he sprang up at their feet, nose whiffling.

“The shoe is an amazing size 16,” he said, “And the gloves look quite inhuman to me.”

“I must have them!” Ouch said excitedly, “How can I hold my head high without my exclusive Game Ranger shoes and gloves?”

They all agreed they would have to call on the baboons for help.

Kool, a young baboon, was the hero of the moment. He scampered across to the human, grabbed the items with great speed and nearly got caught when he tried to steal the socks!

The other animals held their breaths in horror! But the man only yawned and turned over. So Kool chuckled and scampered back with the goodies for Ouch.

The animals went back to the waterhole. Then Ouch tried on the shoes. He gave a huge sigh.

“Aaaaaaah! What comfort,” he said. Then he tried on the gloves. “This is better,” he crooned, “My delicate hands and nails will not be ruined by too much sun and water and lack of calcium.”

The animals were all pleased. Their days were no longer disturbed by shouts of, “Ouch! Ouch!”

Instead they were lulled to sleep by the crooning croc as he waddled off to bed.

“You can call me Mr Mmmmmmm now,” he said happily, “Good night!”

Mom, There’s a Spaceship on the Roof!

 “Mom! Mom!” Tom yelled, “There’s a spaceship on the roof!”

 Mom was busy washing the dishes.

 “Really dear?” Mom said, “Why do you think they chose our house?”

 “I don’t know Mom,” Tommy said and rushed away.

Small green men were trying to climb down the chimney and some were getting stuck and some were getting burned because there was a fire down below.

“Yeow! Ouch!” they shouted, which is a kind of universal language.

 “What was that Tom?” said Mom.

 “It’s the aliens,” Tom said.

 “Oh,” Mom said, “Just make sure they don’t eat all the candy and cookies.”

 “That’s okay Mom,” Tom said, “They seem to like eating the plants.”

Tom’s Mom shrugged and carried on with her ironing. There were always bumps, thumps and squeals when Tom’s friends visited.

“Mom,” Tom said, “The aliens like Jack. They want to take him for a ride on their spaceship. Is that okay?”

 “Sure,” said Mom.

 “Poor old Jack,” she thought, “Are they going to dress you up and put you in a box?”

She heard woofs, ruffs and then a great big WHOOOOSH!

Then there was a blinding light that faded into a dot.

“What was that?” Mom said, “The electricity has gone off?”

 “The aliens took Jack for a ride, but they will be back soon,” said Tom.

There was another flash of light, the electricity came on and Jack bounded downstairs.

 “Where are the aliens?” Mom said, “I thought you were playing with your friends?”

“Silly Mom,” Tom laughed, “My friends don’t come from Saturn!”

They walked hand-in-hand to the roof of the house, where a small spaceship stood with aliens climbing in. They were small and green with red eyes and long fingers.

Tom waved and the spaceship disappeared into the stars.

“Well Tom,” said Mom, “Next time I think I will listen more carefully to what you say. I don’t want you to disappear like that.”

“Okay Mom,” Tom said, “Now about Jack…”

“What about Jack?” Mom said.

“Well,” Jack said, “It’s that dog food you get – I’m sick of it. And the dog next-door - he’s got to go! Then there’s a flea situation in my basket…”

Tom and his mother looked at each other.

“Do you think we could get the aliens to take Jack back?” Mom said.

Tom laughed. “Come on Jack,” he said, “Let’s go for a walk and talk to the neighbours’ dogs.”

“Oooh,” Mom said, “Jack, don’t forget to ask the Smith’s dog about that hammering noise from their shed. I’d love to know what they’re up to.”

“That’s gossip Mom,” Tom shook his head.

But as he walked off, Mom and Jack exchanged a wink. He knew where his dinners came from!

Mrs Freakle Finally Freaks Out!

Mrs Freakle looked like everyone else’s mom. In fact people were always stopping her and saying, “Aren’t you Mrs Smith” or “Aren’t you Mrs Jones” and she would say politely, “No I’m Mrs Freakle”.

Then they would say, “Who?”

Mrs Freakle was a very good mom. She cooked wonderful, tasty dinners. She washed the very dirty clothes of her four very naughty boys and she even cleaned up the dog poop!

But one day, Mrs Freakle finally freaked out. It wasn’t anything big. It was just one of those little things that made her finally explode like a volcano.

Mrs Freakle had been busy experimenting with her plant extracts in her basement. She had mixed special ingredients for a spray that would make her flowers bloom beautifully.

There was a puff of pink smoke, then a puff of purple smoke and a weird goopy green liquid oozed into her spray bottle.

“Hmm, not quite what I expected,” Mrs Freakle said, “But I will test it out.”

She hurried outside to try out her new garden spray. It was kind of oozy and instead of spray, it puffed out a yellowish vapour.

Then, before Mrs Freakle’s surprised eyes, the flower she sprayed shrank smaller and smaller until it was the size of her little finger.

“My goodness!” she said.

Charlie the little boy next door was peeping over the fence. He grinned with no front teeth because he was only five.

“Wow!” he said.

“Ssh Charlie,” Mrs Freakle said.

She heard Charlie’s mother yelling, “Charles Stromberg! You get off that wall right this minute!”

Charlie’s mother was not very patient.

“Bye,” Charlie said.

“Bye,” said Mrs Freakle looking at her plant spray.

That evening, Mr Freakle, came home from work as he usually did. He sat in his favourite armchair with a six-pack of Icy Pops – his favourite sodas and said, “What’s for dinner?” as he usually did.

Little Tommy Freakle said, “I hope it’s not that disgusting meatloaf again.”

And Mr Freakle and the four little Freakles all laughed very rudely.

Mrs Freakle’s dinners were always good and tasty. But that day at the school bake sale, her cake had been the last one to be sold and all the ladies had left her to do all the cleaning up and so Tommy Freakle’s rude words were the last straw.

Mrs Freakle shouted at the top of her voice, “You are the rudest most horrible, mean family in the world!”

She still had the goopy plant spray in her hand and she sprayed all of them. Instantly the whole Freakle family shrank to the size of your little finger and Mrs Freakle popped them all into a shoebox.

“Now you can learn some manners!” she said.

They squeaked and hopped like little mice, but it was no good. Mrs Freakle gave them a cupcake to share and a thimble of milk and then she left the shoebox on the table and went to bed.

The moon was a silver slice in the dark sky and thousands of stars were shining. Mrs Freakle thought how beautiful they were and how peaceful her house was and she fell fast asleep.

The next day, Mrs Freakle went back to her basement to work on an antidote to her shrinking spray. She was a good mother after all and didn’t mean to leave the family shrunken forever.

But she forgot that Mrs Meddle was popping over to collect jumble for the church bazaar.

“Hello Mrs Freakle,” Mrs Meddle called as she walked in through the front door, “Just collecting for the church bazaar.”

“It’s all in the hall,” Mrs Freakle called back, “Can you take it? I’m just in the middle of something.”

Mrs Freakle was in fact in the middle of a huge vat of dandelion flowers that she was stomping. She was covered in green goop.

“Thank you,” Mrs Meddle called and off she went.

Mrs Freakle didn’t think about this until later in the day when she decided she had finally got the antidote right.

She went outside to test the spray on her flowers. She sprayed the one she had shrunk and a greenish vapour covered it and it grew back to normal size.

“Hooray!” she said. And got a fright when Charlie from next door said, “Wow!” again.

“Charlie, you must stop spying on me,” Mrs Freakle said.

“I’m bored,” he said, with no front teeth, “Come over and spray my mom!”

“Charlie!” Mrs Freakle said, “I can’t do that! At least, not today. Bye!”

And she rushed back inside to spray her family back to normal size.

It was then she realized that Mrs Meddle had taken the shoebox containing her family to the church bazaar.

“Oh dear,” said Mrs Freakle.

She had a cup of tea and decided what to do. Did she really want her family back? She thought of her husband and his Icy Pops and her children with their rude shouting and the dogs that pooped in the hall.

“Right,” she said to the empty house, “We have to do it. Goodbye peace and quiet.”

And Mrs Freakle took her antidote spray and rushed off to the church bazaar.

The church was very busy. There were people having tea and cake and selling second-hand books and brand new vegetables.

Mrs Freakle looked and looked. No shoebox.

She saw kids playing games and grannies gossiping. No shoebox.

She saw pony rides and toys. And then she saw the shoebox.

It was under the arm of a little girl with brown pigtails who was holding onto her mother’s hand. The little girl and her mother were having a big argument.

“But I want the little dollies,” the little girl was crying.

“No, Samantha,” her mother said, “You have too many dolls at home.”

“But these are the best,” the little girl cried, “They’re alive.”

Mrs Freakle could see the mother was just about to give in because she was tired and fed up, so she rushed over and said,

“I’m so sorry, this was my box. It was collected by mistake – it’s not supposed to be for sale.”

“You see,” the little girl’s mother said and tried to take the box. But the little girl hung on tightly. “They’re real!” she yelled.

It was a shoebox tug-‘o-war! And then the shoebox broke in half.

Mrs Freakle gasped. Her tiny family and dog fell out onto the grass.

Quickly she picked them up and popped them all into her pocket.

“So sorry,” she said to the mother and the crying little girl and hurried home.

She could hear squeaking noises from inside her pocket, but she didn’t stop until she got home and shut the front door.

Then she put her noisy, rude family on the carpet and sprayed them with the antidote.

They all shot up to normal size and were amazingly quiet and well-behaved.

After all, as Mrs Freakle reminded them, they could have ended up in a little girl’s dolls’ house – not much fun for four naughty boys – or their father – or their messy pups!

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