It was Christmas Eve. He thought he had it all figured out. He being Santa. He's done it plenty of times before, so why was this year such a hastle? He would sit and ask himself this every night leading up to the big one. All the toys were loaded, all the elves busily doing last minute things, all the reindeer fastened in their harness, each being fed a carrot for the journey. Santa could not put his finger on what was causing his anxiety. He was worried, but didn't know quite what for. His main elves tried day and night to reassure the poor jolly man. But the clock was ticking, and Santa had his duty that must be done. Everything was set, as he gently pulled up on the reins holding in the reindeer. With one flick of his wrists, they all began stepping in place. With another flick and shout, they took off with a dash. The mission was going good, until a tree was just to high. Until those reindeer, took Santa a little too low. It all happened in a flash, and no one ever talks about this darkened night. He landed on a roof of a building, his reindeer long gone. Stranded. What was he to do?
