Tag: elves
Do You Wanna Build A Snowman?
“This is Anna Bjo
rgman, reporting from The North Pole where it appears protesters from The Occupy Movement have set up camp to Occupy The North Pole.” Shivering in her Canada Goose parka, the young woman bravely placed the microphone in front of one of the Occupiers, “Excuse me, why has The Occupy Movement decided to Occupy The North Pole this Christmas?”
A handsome young man flashed a smile that was whiter than the snow around him before answering, “Actually, the Occupy movement is so three years ago. We’re the Change The North Pole Movement, because we believe the climate up here needs to change!”
Pushing his iPhone6 into the pocket of his Moncler parka, Christian continued, “Santa is a fat rich old white man who has his own town, slave labour, and only works one day a year!”
Christian paused to point to the various tents, barricades, signs, and a handful of protesters milling around the streets of The North Pole. “Santa’s the ultimate symbol of capitalism! He teaches children to be materialistic!”
A beautiful young woman holding two large Starbucks cups, smiled coyly as she handed Christian one of the steaming cup, “I got your fav, Christian, Double Tall Soy Latte,” Bianca crooned before turning a dazzling smile on the reporter. “We want human need, not corporate greed!”
The reporter, slightly stunned by all the dazzling smiles, wondered where they’d managed to find a Starbucks at The North Pole and was momentarily at a loss for words. Recovering swiftly, she nodded at her cameraman Hans to follow her as she walked with the protesters toward Santa’s Workshop. “What is it you hope to accomplish by Occupying, er, Changing The North Pole?”
Christian took a sip of his latte, looking thoughtful before answering. “The income inequality and wealth distribution between the wealthiest 1% and the rest of the population is no more obvious than here at The North Pole. The elves are the 99%. We want to bring awareness that while Santa sits around smoking a pipe, getting fatter, and being jolly, there is social and economic inequality here and worldwide.”
Bianca stepped brashly forward. “We want people to think, to ask questions, not just blindly follow the Santa Laws!” She then gaily waved at another protester and quickly texted what looked like gibberish before continuing, “There is no better slave than a slave who doesn’t know he’s a slave. I think Bono or Ariana Grande said that and they were so right. People need to wake up! People need see what’s in front of them!”
A frigid wind raged as the reporter watched the two young people start texting, knowing she’d lost the little attention they possessed. With strains of happy Christmas songs emanating from Santa’s Workshop and chants of We Are Changing the Climate of the North Pole! behind her, the reporter smiled weakly at the camera and threw it back to the station with a simple yet bemused, “This is Anna Bjorgman, umm, do you wanna build a snowman?”
We are Santa’s elves
Unseasonably warm, it seemed a beautiful day to go for a long walk. Little did I know chaos had broken out at The North Pole. As I wandered off to do errands and go to the library, behind the scenes, disgruntled elves had declared war on Christmas! Tired of deplorable working conditions, the Elves went on strike.
Santa seemed bemused, telling the media, “I’ve spent more money on elves, especially Veteran elves than any other Santa in the history of Santas.”
The elves shot back with a list of demands.
“We’re tired of being pushed around!” Chief SpokesElf Snowball exclaimed. “We don’t have glamorous jobs like fighting to save Middle-earth, making cookies in trees, being a warrior in Hyrule, or saving Harry Potter, we just make toys!”
Other elves murmured their agreement.
“We love making toys, but day in and day out, it’s torture!” Snowball climbed up on a festive stool to point at the growing crowd of elves. “No one talks about the harassment we endure when we go into town, we can’t even walk down the street without hearing, Hey Sugarplum, or Twinkletoes, Peppermint Buns, Angel Ears, Sprinklepants.” Snowball sat down heavily on the stool, head in hands, as if unable to carry on.
Another elf patted Snowball on the back and continued, “We want to work, but we have to sing the whole time and some elves, I won’t mention any names, cough cough, Buddy, sing loud for all to hear, off key. And why does Santa’s Workshop have to be at The North Pole, why not Aruba or Belize?” Holly sighed and raised her hands in a gesture of defeat. “We have a mandatory diet of cookies, candy canes, gingerbread, candy corn, do you know what all these gumdrops are doing to my diet?”
Cries of Here, Here! and One Two Three Four Eating Cookies is a Bore! rang through the workshop.
“We have to wear these outfits all the time,” Holly sighed, pointing down at her tacky elf outfit. “And now they’re loaning us out to sit on shelves, what’s with that?”
But while the elves were rallying, the reindeer escaped and went flying around the world, stuffing themselves on fast food and samples at Costco; getting liquored up before knocking down unsuspecting pedestrians. This is where I come in, one minute I was walking, the next I was on the ground, in the mud. The reindeer didn’t even stop, it kept talking on it’s cellphone, at least, I think it was a reindeer.
With only 19 sleeps before the Big Night, let’s hope Santa and the Elves can work this out.
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