Krampus groaned getting up. Was this really it, he thought, the last day on the job? Not even a wake up left to go. Still, it wasn't over yet.

"Chloe! Leo! Kommen sie hier!"

The two children were there within seconds.

"As you know," he said, "today is the day that I resign my position as Krampus. I am placing the two of you in charge of forty-five others, though I am sure that the Head Elf will assign someone to chaperone. All of you shall be released on the 26th of December. However...I do not want this to be known, especially to our newest guests. I want you to give the impression that they will be here months, if not years. Do you understand why I ask you to do this."

"Yes, Master Krampus," said Chloe. "A punishment of only three weeks may not be enough for the lesson to be learned...unless they thought the punishment was to be for much more than three weeks."

Krampus nodded. "Good. Very good. You have learned much from your time in Eisenhochburg. Do not let me down. I do not know who will replace me, but I doubt very much that he will be as kindly and understanding as I am."

"Master Krampus, will we see you again."

"No Leo," he said, shaking his head, "not like this. But it is not farewell, just yet. For now...Chloe, I want you to bring down my great robe. Leo, you prepare the sleigh. Have the experienced prisoners prepare the daily meal. Remember, somber faces until the twenty-sixth of December. Dismissed!"

A short while later, dressed in his great robe, Krampus flicked the reins. "Fliege! Nordpol!"

Upon arrival, he was greeted by the Bernard and Judy. "The man of the hour arrives! Come in, come in! Judy tried to put her arms around him, but it was a futile effort. As junior elves moved in to secure the Iron Sleigh and its reindeer, the three entered the Great Hall.

"My dear Elves," announced Santa Claus, "fellow members of the Council of Legendary Figures, friends and visitor, I am pleased to welcome to Santa's Workshop at the North Pole, the legendary Krampus!" Loud applause echoed in the chamber, as did calls of "speech!" "speech!" Santa held up his hands. "He has served in his position in as many years...centuries...as many of us have been alive. He has borne the trial of those years silently and without complaint, and now goes off to live a human life. May his future endeavors be as fruitful as his past ones!"

Again there was much applause. Scott continued. "I shall now hand the floor over to Father Time." The two men shook hands and Santa Claus took his position next to Krampus.

"Ernst has taken the reins of perhaps the most difficult position of legendary figures and has performed his duties admirably. He will be missed, but as a legendary figure emeritus, he is always welcome to speak on the Council. I have no doubts your wisdom shall be strongly considered." Looking Krampus in his eye, he continued:

"I believe it is time to get on to what Ernst Müller has been waiting for. Santa Claus, are you ready to relieve Krampus of the Birch Bundle?"

Scott showed Father Time his gloves. "I am ready."

"...Proceed!"

Santa Claus stood tall and straight, regal in bearing

"Ernst Müller, having received and accepted your resignation, I hereby relieve you of all duties and obligations of the office of The Krampus."

Krampus bowed. "Santa Claus, it was my honor to serve. I now pass to you the symbol of the office of Krampus, to be held in your care until such time as the office is filled. In doing so, I officially resign the office and relinquish my duties." He handed the Birch Bundle to Santa Claus. Santa took them in his left hand. They shook hands.

"Congratulations Ernst," said Scott. "Good call on the robe, but I think you'll want to hit the bathroom right now, and we have one set aside for you right over there. You deserve a bit of privacy.

"Danke schoen!" Already he could feel the magic flowing out of him. He reached up to feel his head - and a horn popped loose. Walking quickly, he stumbled into the bathroom and locked the door. His second horn came off moments later, and he saw skin quickly growing over the holes left by the horns, while the fallen horns crumbled into dust. He gasped, his skin tickling, and millions of follicles shut down, his fur falling from his body, becoming hard and brittle and smashing into dust particles as they hit the floor. The sharp features of his face softened and the natural color was restored. Ears shrank and became soft and rounded. Muscles dwindled from monstrous to simply athletic. His cloven hoof split into five toes and his upper hoof stretched into a foot. Claws withdrew and were replaced by flat nails. Fangs shrank into flat, clean, white teeth. Golden hair sprouted on the head and elsewhere, his golden beard long and thick.

And that was that. Scissors and a razor had been provided and Ernst quickly trimmed the beard to about an inch, and his hair to about three inches. He sobbed joyfully, quietly, for a few minutes, and then stood tall…though perhaps half a meter shorter than he had been.

"Ich bin Ernst Müller!" he proclaimed triumphantly. He had aged over the centuries, but nowhere near as much as he'd expected. He would have to check with Father Time about that. Like the razor and scissors, several sets of clothes had been thoughtfully provided, and he changed into a set of grey slacks and a blue flannel shirt. He stepped out of the bathroom.

Gasps echoed about the floor as the man who had been Krampus was seen for the first time in nearly fifteen hundred years.

"He's so handsome!" was a phrase spoken by many as Ernst walked by them gingerly, then with more confidence across the floor to the Council members.

"Santa Claus, Father Time, I stand relieved!" Ernst spoke lightly with a clipped tenor.

"Physically, you are nearly fifteen years older than you were when you first assumed the office," said Father Time, answering the unspoken question. "One year for every century. How do you feel?"

"For a man of forty-seven then, I would say I feel pretty good!" He flexed a bicep and stretched.

Scott nodded to him. "We prepared your retirement package. We don't know where you would like to settle or anything, so just visit the records hall and they will prepare the necessary identification and other paperwork. Apparently, a fund was prepared for you to aid in your resettlement. Have you given any thought to what you would like to do?"

"Ah, most definitely Mr. Calvin. But I shall wait for the rest of the month before I act on anything. I should very much like to meet my replacement."

Santa Claus nodded. "A wish I shall happily grant. And I would like you to invite you to witness the selection process."

"It's the most wonderful time of the year..."

"Make it tight. No cheating!" Santa instructed Bernard. He grasped the Birch Bundle, card, and candy cane tightly. "Just guide me into the room and don't let me step on the boxes." Dozens of meter long six inch wide boxes were arranged on the floor in a "W" shaped pattern. Along the side of the room were a half dozen large mail baskets filled with bundles of birch sticks and two tables with envelopes stuffed with cards. Bernard dragged a plastic trolley with birch branches, cards, and candy canes behind him.

"And…stop here." Santa knelt, blindfolded. He reached for one of the boxes. Inside it, he placed the envelope with the card, the candy cane, and the Birch Bundle. He felt for the cover and placed it over the box, then sealed it with his tape stick. He reached back to the trolley for another set of the three items, placed them into another box, and then sealed them inside as well. Scott repeated the process twenty more times, and then shuffled the boxes, still blindfolded."

"All right then, that should be enough! We'll have no idea which is the real Birch Bundle until it's unsealed! Send in everyone and let's finish the job!"

"Okay, Elves, you heard the man, make it happen." Santa was joined by dozens of elves packing boxes with sticks, envelopes, and candy canes. After stuffing a few more boxes, he joined Bernard and Ernst off to the side.

"Think it'll work?" he asked.

"I don't see why not, I have no idea which is the Parcel," offered Bernard.

"1,494 packages was a nice touch," agreed Ernst. "What was written on the card?"

"I needed to explain things in order to make sure people didn't think they were being pranked. I just explained the purpose of the birch sticks and how the candy cane represented the sweetness of restoration." He further explained to Bernard and Ernst. "That's not the true meaning of the candy cane, but it works in this context."

"Fair enough," agreed Bernard. "Did you change anything on the card for the Parcel?"

Scott nodded. "Notice of Implied Contract,' in big red letters on the back. Not itsy-bitsy words on the side, Bernard. And the card was placed on top of the bundle, on the inner wrapping, so it won't be entrapment, Bernard," he said quite pointedly, although winking and smiling when he said it.

Bernard chuckled nervously. "The Santa Clause, did you ever get the chance to read that, Ernst?"

"No," Ernst answered, "but I suspect that Mr. Calvin would not be in his current position if the words were in a larger font, eh?" Bernard shrugged. "Anyway Boss, what did you write under the Big Red Letters?"

Santa recited: "I, the undersigned, shall forfeit all rights, privileges, and licenses herein and herein contained,' et cetera, et cetera... 'Fax mentis, incendium gloria cultum,' et cetera, et cetera... Memo bis punitor delicatum! It's all there! Black and white, clear as crystal!"

"Huh?"

"Was?"

"Just kidding. No, what it really says is; 'By taking the true Birch Bundle in hand, you agree to waive any and all rights to any previous identity or form, real or implied, and fully accept the duties and responsibilities of and serve no less than one term as the Krampus. Said term shall be for a duration of five hundred (500) years or 182,625 twenty-four hour days which commences on the first day of the year Two Thousand and Seventeen at 12:01 AM, Greenwich Mean Time.'"

"…Sounds reasonable," said Bernard. "And what if they read the card first?"

Scott thought a bit. "You know something, my friend? I'm actually not worried about that in the slightest. But we'll cross it when we come to it."

"Miss Bello?" Laura turned at the sound of her name. It was Chris Keller, one of her students from her last years AP Chemistry class.

"Oh, hi Chris. What's up?"

"I apologize if this is none of my business, but I thought Greg and I saw you and Mr. Piekov at Dunkin' Donuts Thanksgiving night."

"Well, I accept your apology then. It's a small town, Chris, and you've lived here longer than I have if memory serves me right. Look, we're teachers, and naturally we are going to socialize at least a little bit if we happen to cross paths when we're off the job." She raised her eyebrows. "Was there anything else."

Chris kind of grimaced at that, "I suppose I killed my chance to sweet talk you into this, but if you could write me a few recommendations, I'd sure appreciate it."

"You'll never have to sweet talk me into that," she laughed. "Just make a list of where you're applying and some information about yourself to jog my memory, and leave it with the teacher's secretary. How did you do on the AP exam?

"Got a four."

"Not perfect, but better than average. And thank you for asking."

"So how far have you two gotten? I mean as far as a relationship, not…you know?"

"You're truly a grandmistress in the art of subtlety, Taylor," said Natalia with a smirk. "And to be blunt, I don't mind answering it. Greggor and I do love each other – and I don't think anything can wreck our relationship."

"Aw that's so sweet," cooed Sarah. "Do you think you'll tie the knot right after graduation…or hold off till after college?"

Natalia laughed at this. "Swear to you, Sarah…I tell you it's the funniest thing. Both of us want to get married. And we've switched on when we want to do it. One week we'll disagree one way, the next we'll disagree on the other. Frustrating as hell to be engaged to a debate team member."

Sarah laughed into her hands. "Frustrating as hell to be engaged as a debate team member. Are you finding ways to relieve that frustration, you know?"

She reached up and stroked her friend's hair. "I'm launching a lot of Georgia Satellites." Natalia really was a grandmistress in the art of subtlety and she struggled to keep a straight face as she looked at Sarah's confused expression.

"...Sore wa...dō ka to omoimasu..." Sarah replied.*

He had been worrying about this week of classes. Unless the topic was the Old West, the time between the Civil War and the Spanish American War had always seemed to be the most boring part of American History. But as an AP history teacher, George thought that his obligation to make it interesting was even greater. He had made sure to secure the use of a TV and projector…unfortunately there weren't too many National Geographic or History Channel videos of the Reconstruction. But he was able to find one on the tenure of Andrew Johnson as president and his impeachment.

This didn't make it much easier though. For one thing, he had to create new quizzes to keep his students minds alert…and since his impromptu date with Laura, keeping his own mind alert in class was becoming more and more difficult. Greg and Natalie had apparently already seen the two of them together after church and after coming out of the new Star Wars prequel.

Which naturally meant that it was even more important that he remained focused on belting out excellent teaching plans. He remembered one class he had taken in high school, Laura's subject, come to think of it, where the class was so disorganized that he couldn't remember learning anything that he hadn't gone home and studied for himself, it was a wasted fifty minutes. And while he had honed his skill on what was euphemistically called "classroom management" back it Pittsburgh, he would much rather rely on keeping the subject matter interesting. Cold-calling in class, calling students at random and expecting them to have a ready answer could be traumatic, but at least it kept things interesting.

Author's Note: Love the reviews, thank you both so much. I'll do my best to keep the chapters rolling out consistently.

You may have figured that this is the penultimate chapter before the successor of the Krampus is determined. Or rather named, the determination has been made. I challenge you all to make a guess…including your rationale.

*(Sore wa...dō ka to omoimasu)(Japanese): "I don't know what to say about that."