The Fat Man's Revenge

The Fat Man's Revenge
I never thought I'd see the day, really I didn't. If anyone's job was safe ' even in these precarious days ' it was mine. Or so I thought. 'What will I do?' I said to Them 'how will I spend my time now?'
'Oh, you'll find something to do,' They replied as smoothly as one 'no doubt your wife will keep you busy, eh?'
But why should I make them feel better by smiling at their weak joke? No sir. I stood there in front of them all and just stared. My not-so-famous look of death I call it. Even if a person is known for their smiling countenance doesn't mean they can't execute the look of death when it's warranted and believe me, it was warranted all right.
They looked at each other uncomfortably then, but not uncomfortably enough to give me my job back. One cleared his throat unnecessarily and very loudly, another scratched his head while another inspected her nails gravely but still I stood there. 'Er, is there anything else?' one asked eventually.
'Nope. I think you've said all there is to say,' I returned.
'Well ' if there's anything we can do. To help, you know. Hmm, well you will give us a call, won't you?'
Just to rub it in I leaned across the table and shook hands with every one of Them. I gave Them a final twinkle of the baby blues too. They won't forget me in a hurry. And whatever They thought, the wife wasn't pleased. She was not pleased at all. And it's me who has to live with her. The missus can throw a mean look of death herself when she wants to, probably learned it from me.
'Hey Rudolph,' I said aloud and was rewarded by a soft whinny and a velvet nose pushed into my shoulder. I stroked his head slowly, after all it was hardly his fault. Just doesn't sound the same does it ' Rudolph the horse? The way it happened was either I took him on or he was for the knacker's yard when the fox hunting ban put a lot of horses out of work. Anyway the reindeers were getting old. They actually asked to be let go. It was the redundancy package that lured them of course. Free rein in Lapland for them and their dependents and all the reindeer fodder they could eat. Ah yes, They really know how to play dirty. How could any reindeer resist? All right, Donner and Cupid I can understand, after all these past hundred years or so Goner and Stupid would be nearer the mark although I'm not getting any younger myself. But Dasher, Dancer and Prancer, babies almost, none of them over forty years old, bone idle and looking for excuses I say. And as for Vixen, Comet and Blitzen ' well don't get me stared on those three. Always hiding at the back they were, knowing that the guys at the front did all the hard work. But Rudolph - well now that cut me to the bone, the missus too. It was no secret he was our favourite, always the first to volunteer for extra duties, his big nose shooting up into the air and polished to perfection by herself. Ah well, gone are the days and they'll never come back. Not while They have anything to do with it and it seems to me now They have a foothold, fancy job titles and Political Correctness They will be around for a very long time.
Rudolph No 2 pushed his nose underneath my arm and I felt bad at comparing him. He tries his best, he really does but horses were never meant to pull a sleigh across the sky now, were they? And anyway what does it matter now, reindeer or horse they're out of a job same as me. Rudolph seemed to sense my mood though because he wouldn't go away. Even my look of death didn't frighten him and I've put many a reindeer or a badly behaved child away with that look. 'Ah well old boy. That's us put out to graze,' I whispered and his ear flicked as if tickled by my words. Only trouble is, unlike Rudolph, I never got the taste for grass.
This used to be my busiest time of the year you know. December. And although a lot of people thought I worked only one night a year they were so, so wrong. I mean, preparation is everything, isn't it? Do they think I don't keep lists, tallies of who got what last year and who gets what this year? Don't they understand that every one of my gifts is hand-made and unique? I never had any truck with cheap imitations. Oh no. And do you think those designer labels are exclusive? No siree. I had a whole team of elves working on nothing but logos. Do they even realise how many elves are now forced into claiming benefits? After all, job opportunities are limited for those fellows, but no ' no one thinks of these things do they?
It's getting colder now and by the crisp smell in the air, I know it's going to be a clear night, speckled with stars in the heavens, and the way I always liked it best. When I think back on all the thousands of Christmas Eves I've spent grumbling about too much work and not enough time ' well, I wish I was grumbling now. I think I better hang around here a while longer. The missus is feeling it too - especially today - and she's decided to spring clean the Grotto. Spring cleaning in December I ask you but I know better than to argue so I took myself off to sit with Rudolph a while but I better be getting back now. Without my working clothes I really do feel the cold. I wanted to put them on this morning but too late I saw them swirling around in the front-loader. 'What are you washing them for,' I cry 'and today of all days?'
'You silly old fool,' the missus muttered, swerving the Dyson skilfully around my feet 'you won't need them any more, will you?'
'Maybe not,' I admitted 'but why are you washing them?'
'Because I won't have it said that anything in my charity bag is dirty,' she returned, voice cracking like a whip.
'Charity bag? What do you mean, woman?'
'Old man, for your information,' the missus spoke slowly just in case I missed something of her vitally important explanation. She often does this, especially when telling me a piece of interesting (she thinks) and/or juicy (again she thinks) gossip 'you will never wear that suit again.'
I don't suppose the old girl meant it badly but that's how I took it. Her words stung but only because I knew she was right. 'You could do with losing a bit anyway,' she flicked a duster pointedly at my stomach which is, admittedly, growing every year but with no more mince pies and glasses of whisky I daresay the weight will just fall off.
But wait a minute. They might be able to make me redundant, They might be able to abolish Christmas but there's no way They can stop me wearing my suit for one last time. 'Wait here Rudolph, I'll be back.' I dashed back to the house and just in time as it happened. There she was cramming my dear old red and white whistle into a plastic Oxfam bag. 'You can't do that!' I cried.
'Why not? It's not as if you've got any more use for it. It can be recycled.'
'Give it here.' I tore it out of the bag and pulled it on. Ah yes, it felt just fine and all the old Christmassy feelings welled up inside me as I shoehorned myself inside its fluffy red and white warmth. My belly strained more than usual against the big shiny black buttons though ' maybe I could lose a pound or two. That's what not working does to a man.
'They can keep Their Political Correctness,' I ranted, dancing around in delight and defiance 'because we ' that is you and me missus ' are having Christmas after all.'
Expecting to put a smile on her red cheeks I danced her around the room with me, the Viennese Waltz I always favour and am actually rather good at ' but no, she pulled away and looked at me in horror. Women! Who can understand them?
'You're ill,' she panted 'go and lie down. You're not yourself Nick ''
'I've never been more myself,' I asserted. 'Tonight is Christmas Eve and I will take my sleigh (a company vehicle which They never asked for back) and Rudolph and we shall sail the skies again ''
'You'll be arrested you stupid old man,' the missus hissed.
'Don't care.'
'How do you expect that poor old horse to pull your massive weight by himself?'
I chuckled aloud ' a real Santa chuckle ' when Rudolph poked his head around the door neighing wildly, his head nodding up and down. 'There's your answer,' I said to her.
'You haven't got any presents!' As usual my missus saves the knock-out blow until the very end. Tyson with a Dyson.
Well that stopped me. Rudolph too. His long face drooped sadly and he shambled off back to the stables.
'You've upset him now,' I said 'and you've upset me too.'
'Just pointing out the obvious Nick,' deftly she manoeuvred the Dyson around my considerable circumference.
I had to think about this one but there wasn't much time. Presents have to be delivered on Christmas Eve if Christmas was to mean anything at all and even if I got the elves back on the books all the overtime in the world couldn't complete the work of a year in one night. There had to be another way.
'I've got it! Saddle up there Rudolph,' I shouted 'we're having Christmas after all ' and I mean we!'
'Nicholas you can't just ' come back here!' I may have heard the missus shouting but the whoosh of the sledge getting airborne is always noisy so I could be forgiven for not taking any notice.
I always liked this part. Whizzing through the empty skies, looking down on the rooftops, checking addresses and making sure each gift goes to the correct child. The paperwork involved is incredible but that night I had no lists, no sacks of presents and even with my weight the sledge was painfully light ' not for long though. 'Turn left at the third gable end,' I called to Rudolph who nodded and whinnied happily and I noticed in amazement that the old boy was finally getting the hang of it. He was almost as good as the reindeers. 'A really nice smooth ride, old chum,' I called in encouragement.
'All right now, stop here.' Rudolph trod air just as I'd taught him to do. 'I'll be back shortly. 'Merry Christmas!' I shouted to the skies. I descended weightlessly (I particularly like that bit) down the chimney of a house I remembered from years before. The children always did very well here. Year after year I'd brought them teddy bears and dolls, action men and bikes, computers, surfboards, skateboards, motherboards and every board game on the market. You name it they had it ' they were that kind of a family and I was pleased to see that, despite the abolition of Christmas, they'd still had the chimney swept. I emerged in the hearth of the living room with the old adrenalin flying round my body. What if someone were to see me? Would they call Them? Or would they wonder about the presents I didn't have? One thing was for sure, they'd never imagine me ' me! ' as a thief and yet that's exactly what I was. I pulled an empty sack from my pocket and climbed the stairs quietly as a mouse. That's the thing with us quadruple XL people ' we can move graceful as ballerinas. Reversing the actions of a thousand years, I crept into those children's bedrooms and started filling my sack.
By the first light of dawn we were on our way home. Rudolph laboured mightily with the sledge weighed down with presents. 'We'll celebrate Christmas, old boy,' I said to him 'even if nobody else does.'
'Merry Christmas!' I pecked the missus on the cheek.
'Oh Nick!' she gasped 'what have you done?' Her eyes flew over the mountains of games, toys, books, bicycles, computer games, televisions, DVD's ' you name it, we had it ' stacked up high against every wall in the Grotto. They were all nicely wrapped up too, even if I say so myself. 'If you've done anything stupid, old man,' she warned, her small figure advanced threatening towards me, a duster held menacingly in each hand.
'Now my sweet,' I said 'don't be hasty.'
'Oh, what have you done?' she moaned.
'I've only done what They are always telling us to do. Recycle. I've simply recycled these Christmas presents.'
'To us!' she flapped nippily at me and she can wield a duster can my missus. 'You've recycled them to us ' that's stealing Nick.'
'Only if we keep them,' I replied craftily. 'Think about it,' I waved a hand towards the brightly wrapped boxes 'we get the pleasure of Christmas, of opening the parcels and seeing what's inside ''
'But you already know what's inside,' she pointed out.
'Ah yes, but I've forgotten. So we get the pleasure of opening the presents ''
'But they'll be no use to us.'
'Since when were Christmas presents useful?' I put in and the missus had to agree. I definitely had a point there. 'So we get the pleasure ''I started again.
'Yes, yes,' she was determined not to let me finish that particular sentence 'and then what?'
'Well then we rewrap them ''
'We have a house full of stolen goods! You've gone off your head Nicholas!'
But this time I was determined to finish. 'We rewrap them, my sweet,' I said 'and redistribute them ''
'How? We'll be caught!'
Then I played my master card. 'At Eid, at Divali, at Hunukkah, at the Chinese New Year, at Thanksgiving!'
The missus was clearly delighted and I wondered if maybe the fat man was on a promise. 'A rose by any other name smells just as sweet,' she said.
'Ssh. Don't quote Shakespeare,' hastily I put a hand across her mouth 'isn't he banned?'