Before Santa Claus became known as “The Jolly Elf”, who brought toys to children on Christmas day December 25th of every year, did you know that there was another great old elf who was making toys for kids first?
This elf, like Santa, was busy making his own toys, but on the other side of the planet. His name was Sheb and he lived at the South Pole, not the North Pole. No, not the north pole! He lived in an underground bunker, because it was so cold, and he had 5 happy room mates – Aldo Pimptronic…
and Chronica Rackz.
The base itself, was called Shebville, and on a nice day, it was visible above ground and resembled a military base.
Anyway, there was a reason that these six people (5 people, one dog) were living together, but that’s another story….
What matters is only this – Sheb lived at the South Pole, and instead of employing elves, he employed hobbitfolk, because they were cheap and they still put toys on the shelves. The hobbits, thought to be fictional due to the Lord of the Rings novels and movie adaptations, were pretty much the last of their race (only 500 less remained), and lived with Sheb, who himself was not a hobbit, but a man. No ordinary man, but, yes, technically a man. Sheb was said to be, miraculously, over 120 years old. No one knew why. But he had traversed the southern poles for more than 100 years, they say.
Sheb had built a quonset for the hobbits to work in, and it was heated, or else they all would have died. The rest of the residents lived underground in a very fashionable bunker that was approx 2.5 kilometers below the icy surface of Antarctica.
As Santa operated to have thing done by the 25th of December, Sheb wanted things ready by the 21st of September, and would store them until Christmas, where he would send out his own team of hobbits who flew in unidentified aerial craft (cloaked of course), to run interference with Santa’s crew, and try to take credit for many of the gift deliveries. But this year, things weren’t going right.
The darned kender folk could not keep up with the schedule because it was hard, too hard for them, and, after all is said and done, they were just too lazy, because they were fat and out of shape. No matter what anyone did to try to motivate them, they simply couldn’t meet their quotas. Gustav was sent in to do some “team building” exercises with the hobbits but it had zero effect.
Sheb, at a total loss, was on Craigslist one night in late August, and he came across the deal of a lifetime – nine flying supersonic reindeer were for sale for a rock bottom price. He said “9 flying deer 45 dollars….isn’t that kinda queer?” But, ever the economist, he bought them anyways, and the guy threw in one for free. He said you can have poor Cotar, but he’s useless as you can see.
Finally, Sheb could now compete directly with Santa with his own nine reindeer, who were named individually on the receipt, but the receipt, as receipts do, got lost in the some laundry and disappeared. So we don’t know who these reindeer were, but we do know that they were, according to documents recovered from an old server, related directly to Santa’s own magical reindeer. Whether they were clones, or simply cousins of Santa’s brood, there is no way to tell.
Once the reindeer arrived in Antarctica by way of New Zealand (where they stopped before taking a special connecting flight from a daring commercial delivery airline), Sheb immediately took them and began putting them through the paces, as they needed to be in top form by late September.
The only reindeer who could not perform at any level of adequacy was Cotar, the reindeer who the guy warned Sheb about and was thrown in as extra.
Now, it is worth noting here that the hobbits and the reindeer were not exactly friends, once they arrived on the base. That said, in basically all intermural sports contests – wrestling, polo, swimming, boxing – the reindeer could whoop the hobbits’ butts, but the hobbits always tried again. These were exceptional reindeer – no question about it.
Cotar, meanwhile, was always on the sidelines. Firstly, he could not speak english, and hobbits tried often to pick a fight with him, since he was the only one they could dominate. To say it like this, since Cotar was the weakest link, the hobbits kicked his butt all through the night and for breakfast Cotar was forced to drink out of the toilet and was branded with obscene shapes thanks to the hobbits desire to torture him daily.
Cotar was born different, you see, and sometimes it made him sad, because he couldn’t help the other reindeer to guide out Sheb’s bags, when the time came. He had to stay back – a disgrace to the team.
One night – the night the reindeer were to head out for their first round of deliveries – there was a snowstorm a mile above Greenland. One of the other reindeers had fallen ill with the flu, and they (Sheb, Aldo, and anyone else who had money riding on this trip) had no choice but to say with the nicest voice, “Please come help us will you, Cotar? Or there won’t be a Christmas!”
They approached him cautiously at first, thinking to treat him with respect and convince this dullard to cooperate. But, for one reason or another, Cotar couldn’t speak. The truth is because he never learned to talk in the first place. Their strategy backfire, and Cotar thought they were making rude remarks about him, so he charged in and actually knocked back the sexy drug overlord, pinning Chronica Rackz to a table covered in her own private collection of super charged marijuana plants. She let out an uncomfortable squeal as the limp and tired reindeer tried to attack her with his ineffectual little antlers.
Cotar didn’t know right from wrong – he was crazed at this point. He only knew he wanted to hurt them – hurt them all – just like they hurt him. Chronica, being adept in martial arts with a black belt in several, simply and crudely picked up the lightweight reindeer who was by this time malnourished from drinking all the toilet water, and body slammed him into a pile of teddy bears. Since she had only flown down to pick up her plants in the first place, Chronica, an exalted guest at the compound just then, left immediately that night in a huff, very upset with being tackled by an emaciated reindeer that “smelled like root vegetables, burnt fryer grease, and day old pizza. Ew, dee-scusting!”
As it turned out, Cotar did not help out with Christmas that year, and instead Elwood (we figured out his name!) was forced to join the fleet of reindeer to make deliveries all through October. Elwood died a week later, and of course they all blamed Cotar. And this is the story of how Cotar ruined Christmas.
BONUS: A song was written about these events, by the band Childebeast. Enjoy!