‘Tis the week before Christmas, which means it’s time to check on the success of my workshop’s latest endeavor. I should explain the premise: when Mother Earth, inspired by human conservation efforts, began pressing the issue of climate change at meetings of the Mythical Council a few years back, it came out that Santa’s Workshop had been indirectly contributing to 60 to 67% of annual carbon emissions — a result of coal distribution by our naughty sector. It turns out that when naughty people receive coal, they’re disposed to consume it once they’re finished being filled with sincere regret for their actions. And so, facing intense pressure from the Easter Bunny, who’s battered with complaints about adapting to changing weather from rabbit and hare relatives, and the Tooth Fairy, who’s had some mid-flight trouble due to increased turbulence, I resolved to come up with a replacement for my classic coal punishments. Thus, my brainchild: “Secret Santa.”
Secret Santa is a fairly straightforward concept. Elves who used to be responsible for shipping coal are now assigned to Secret Santa exchanges happening worldwide. After cross-referencing the fabled list, they identify any naughty ones involved, then use their Christmas magic to rig the drawings. This way, naughty children are always “Santa” to those with the most expensive, ludicrous wishlists and always at the mercy of the worst gift givers.
Each year, I like to review a few cases to make sure that this system is still running smoothly. Right now, for example, it brings me satisfaction to note that Em P. Teastocking, of Chugwater, Wyoming (a teenager joining an overflowing section of the naughty list dedicated to ChatGPT overusers), has just been named Secret Santa for her cousin Brody (Brody’s only wishlist item this Christmas is a pair of Puma’s $160 “Active Gaming Footwear”). And Rocki Naround (guilty of sticking gum under the science table) has just been spotted by her crush at the mall’s taboo “Star Snugglers” store (buying a Nicolas Cage Mermaid Pillowcase for her old Auntie Mabel).
I also have the pleasure of observing their respective Secret Santas. Eau-de-toilette (rotten flower perfume) is Teastocking’s four-year-old cousin’s signature gift — how lucky for Teastocking that she will be unwrapping that on Christmas morning! (Wink, wink.)
These scenarios, and those of years past, testify to the effectiveness of this new technique. Emoshun Allyestrayneged is on the nice list for the first time this year. Could it have something to do with the fact that last year, her Secret Santa in the classroom exchange was the resident poet, and her gift was a deeply profound haiku he had scribbled on the back of a receipt (“I spent many days / pondering what to write you / Merry Christmas, you” and “P.S. your name would have made the last line over 5 syllables, sorry!”)?
Similarly, Catluh Ver made it from naughty to nice. Might that be related to what went down during the community swap last year, when she found out her Secret Santa was actually her neighbor’s dog and that the thoroughly chewed blanket at her feet was her gift? (She had to give back the blanket later — the poor pooch couldn’t stop whining in its absence.) I think it is likely.
Overall, I’m very pleased with how this experiment has turned out. I’m going to recommend that the Easter Bunny look into “Secret Easter Bunny Egg Swap” at the next council meeting.
