Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer…
…had a very shiny nose. He was about thirteen at the time. Up until then, the nose had been of normal size, shape, and color. But his body had changed a lot in the last year—his nose most awkwardly of all. It was bright red. And if you ever saw him, you would even say it glows.
All of the other reindeer used to laugh and call him names. Lush. Cardinal-diver. Ground control, even. While it was accepted that Rudolph was, and might always be, too immature for their annual flight on the 24th, this red nose thing made him a total outcast. They never let poor Rudolph join in any reindeer games. Not Reindeer Polo, or Reindeer Pétanque. Not even skee-ball.
Then one foggy Christmas Eve, Santa came to say: “Rudolph with your nose so bright…” he cleared his throat for dramatic effect and stared down a particular jerk, Blitzen, “…won’t you guide my sleigh tonight?” This made no sense. Santa was known as a conservative, traditionalist, hard-ass. He’d essentially had the same eight reindeer (by name) for every flight since 1 A.D., trading in older reindeer for similar-looking younger ones every five years or 150,000 miles (like Menudo) and simply changing the nametag on their collars (like Menudo).
The issue this year was that it was 1939. Germany had invaded Poland the previous September, not leaving enough time to sort through the Naughty/Nice paperwork for all 80 million Germans. Santa had no practical choice but to move them all to the Naughty list, but, not wanting to deliver 80 million individual gifts of coal to their countrymen, both Donner and Blitzen went on strike.
Aaaaaand I have no idea how to finish this before dinner….
