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Story for the day (Christmas Eve Special)

CaptainWacky

I want to smell dark matter
After a year's hard work, Santa was finally ready for Christmas. In just an hour it would be time to take flight across the world once more and deliver presents to millions worldwide. He'd thought of nothing else all year but, finally, he had some time to himself. He sank down in his big, comfy armchair and put on the tv. The Elf version of Big Brother was on. Santa watched as two Elves argued over Lembas bread and two more groped each other in the background. "The youth of today," he sighed. Santa couldn't remember being young. An immortal, all his memories were of the last few hundred years of making toys and then delivering them. He didn't have time to think of anything else. Until now. And it horrified him. This was all he was! He didn't live a full life. He didn't live at all! He did nothing but make Christmas fun for children every single year. Why did he do it? He couldn't even remember. Why did he go on!? Oh God, his life was hell! Panic took Santa. He couldn't sit still. He turned the tv off and ran to the window. It was snowing outside. It was always fucking snowing in Santaland and he was sick of it. He needed to end this. NOW. He had to kill himself. Santa went for his shotgun. It was still under the floorboard under his chair, it had been there for many decades. He'd bought it in case of Balrog attacks and given it no thought. But now he would finally use it...he'd end this hellish existence once and for all...

It was just then that the Head Elf walked in. "The sleigh's ready, Santa." Santa took one final look down at the floorboard he'd started to pull up. Then he smiled.

"Ho ho ho! Time to make some children happy!"

"Indeed!" grinned the elf. "Just like we do every year!"

"And will go on doing for the rest of time!" said Santa, all thoughts of suicide gone for another year. "After all...I'm Santa Claus!"
 
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