“What do you think, Stephen? Have we been good this year?”
“For his sake,” he said, “let's hope so.”
Santa lay spread eagle atop a pile of coal, held in place by candy canes that were shoved through his forearms, his one remaining eye still twinkling.
Walter scanned both lists, then shook his head sadly. “Another year, another Christmas on the naughty list. Care to guess what we won?”
He grabbed Santa’s sack and shook another pound of coal onto the pile.
“Such a shame,” said Stephen, pouring lighting fluid over the pyre and striking a match. “Maybe next year?”
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