“My elves aren’t themselves and my reindeer are history, how Imanage alone is an absolute mystery. “ Yet Icontinue to work with care and devotion, for the few scattered souls who survived the explosion.” With that he was silent and he stopped all his flapping, from under the stairs Icould hear his canes tapping. My wife was disgusted with something Isaid, when an ear dropped off of one of his heads. A bundle of things he had flung on his back, canned goods Ithink, lead-lined at that. With his noses like roses, he was not unattractive, his cheeks were like cherries— he was radioactive! He’d a tumor on his back the size of a boulder, and a ninth arm was growing from out of his shoulder. He was bloated and grey like a cancerous boar, as wheezing and coughing he dropped to the floor. The seizure now gripped him Isaw with alarm, 1was wholly convinced he was buying the farm. Then he pulled himself up with repeated tries, and filled all the stockings with food and supplies. And laying a finger to the side of his nose, it fell off his face as up the stairway he rose. And Iheard him exclaim as Iwakened my wife, “A nuclear Christmas to all— and to all a half-life.”
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