The Mechanical Santa

By Short Cheeks

Happy Holidays!

It was Christmas Eve, and the Halliwell sisters was busy decorating their front yard. They had a six-foot inflatable Santa Claus, a snowman, a reindeer, and a sleigh. They also had lights, wreaths, and candy canes. They wanted to make their house look festive and cheerful. They had bought the Santa Claus from a garage sale, and it was a bit old and worn. It had a motor that made its arm wave up and down, but it was noisy and erratic. Sometimes it would stop working, and sometimes it would go too fast. "Mom, can we get a new Santa next year? This one is creepy and annoying," their daughter, Lily, said. "No, honey. This Santa is fine. It has character and charm. Besides, we got it for a bargain. It was only five dollars," their mother, Jane, said.

"Five dollars too much, if you ask me," their father, Dan, said.

"Come on, guys. Don't be so negative. It's Christmas. Let's have some fun and enjoy the spirit of the season," Jane said. They finished decorating the yard, and they admired their work. "It looks great, Mom. You were right. The Santa is not so bad after all," Jenny said. "See? I told you. Now let's go inside and have some hot chocolate and cookies," Jane said. They went inside, and they left the Santa Claus waving its arm in the yard. A few minutes later, a car pulled up in front of their house. It was their neighbor, Paige Halliwell, who had come to drop off a gift basket. She got out of the car, and she walked towards the door. She saw the Santa Claus, and she smiled. "Hello, Santa. Merry Christmas," she said. She reached out to touch its arm, but as she did, the motor suddenly malfunctioned. It made a loud whirring sound, and it sped up the arm's movement. The arm swung out of control, and it hit Paige Halliwell on her behind.

"Ow! What the heck?" Paige Halliwell exclaimed. She stumbled forward, and she fell to the ground. She looked up, and she saw the Santa Claus still waving its arm. She felt a surge of anger and embarrassment. "You stupid, rotten, piece of junk. How dare you hit me like that? You're a disgrace to the holiday. You're a menace to society. You're a lawsuit waiting to happen," she yelled. She got up, and she kicked the Santa Claus. She kicked it hard, and she punctured its fabric. The air escaped from the Santa Claus with a funny fart-like sound as it deflated. It collapsed to the ground, and it stopped waving its arm. Mrs. Jones felt a pang of regret. She realized that she had overreacted, and that she had ruined the Wilsons' decoration. She felt sorry for them, and for herself. "Oh, no. What have I done? I'm so sorry, Santa. I'm so sorry, Wilsons. I'm so sorry, Christmas," she said.

She ran back to her car, and she drove away. She left the gift basket on the porch, and she left a note. "Dear Wilsons, I'm sorry for what I did to your Santa. It was an accident, and I lost my temper. Please forgive me, and please accept this gift basket as a token of my apology. Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year. Love, Paige Halliwell." She hoped that they would understand, and that they would not hate her. Meanwhile, inside the house, the Wilsons heard the commotion. They looked out the window, and they saw their Santa Claus lying on the porch. They read the note, and they understood what had happened. They felt a mix of emotions. They felt sad, and they felt angry. They felt amused, and they felt relieved. They felt sorry, and they felt grateful. They decided to forgive Paige Halliwell, and to accept her gift basket. They decided to throw away the Santa Claus, and to buy a new one next year. They decided to laugh about the incident, and to move on with their lives. They decided to have a merry Christmas, and a happy New Year.