This is a very odd Christmas fic involving, to a small degree, pokemon.

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He sat. He always sat, never stopped sitting. Well, he did stop sitting, but that was only to cross to his sleigh. He was a lot more miserable than most people think, and he hated his job. The reason people thought of him as being full of cheer was the sleigh. It took out the emotions being experienced by children, hope, desire, excitement. And transferred it. It transferred it into cheer, which relayed through the man. He wanted to go on a diet, but he wasn't capable of doing. This was the deal. His life would be spared, in one form or another, and his consciousness would be maintained, but his body would no longer be under his control. He didn't realise, at the time, that it meant for all of eternity. Just thought that it was for his natural life. He'd lost count of how many years he'd been alive, but knew it was for more than he'd have naturally lived. He'd come to realise, over many-a-year, that it would be for all eternity, or until a replacement arrived. He knew that one day, a replacement would arrive. The Mew knew too. "That infernal Mew", he thought. That infernal Mew that had given him the choice of service, or of death. He was only human, at least he was at the time of making the choice. He'd become something less. A consciousness trapped in a shell it had no control over. Nothing but a sentient machine with no control over its actions. He knew that it was human nature to do things of what he did, but normally not to the same calibre. Humans forgot, humans lied, humans stole, humans killed. But it was rare for one to do all, deliberately, at the same time.

It had been his sons birthday, he'd got his son the thing his son had always wanted. A pet Pikachu. He'd put it into a box, but had forgotten to put the air holes in. The Pikachu had died as a result of his actions. He lied the Pikachu had ever of existed, that he had promised his son a Pikachu. He stole away his own sons hope, trust, and morals. But the reason he was suffering this torture, is what he didn't do as a result of all this. He didn't regret a thing. He did now, but not for the right reasons. The Mew knew that he had suffered enough. The Mew also new that there would be another one committing the same crime shortly, but in a different way. The Mew, however, did not know when this would be. The mans body stood up. "Damn, looks like it's time for another blasted session of Ho-Ho-Hoeing." He thought, as he went off to his sleigh for yet another year.

The Mew watched him mentally "Fear not, you will be replaced soon enough. I do not know when, or by whom, but your replacement is now living." It thought at him. He understood perfectly, and wondered which parcel would be for his replacement. His mind both lifted at the thought of dying, and dropped at the thought of an unlucky child.

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The man sat. He always sat. It was determined from the Christmas he got that green parcel..