(We were going to paste the chat but the scroll seems to have been shortened extensively, so I am forging ahead from memory instead.)

For those of you who didn't stop by, Santa was enjoying a hot toddy after a long night before, but as loose as he was, he let down his jolly facade and for some reason, started in growling about Greta Toonberg.


"Poor Greta! She really shouldn't have frightened millions of children with her outlandish tales."

(Us, who were just thinking, the other people in chat, a moment before.)

Suddenly he arrived right after, though jolly enough. He told both Baldur and I that we were good enough the last year in spite of our occasional trip-ups.

But then:

That Greta though! ..he snarled with a clatter.

We all held our breath.

Huh??? Santa, what's the matter?

40 licks on the bare, and then the rod! That might be more than she can take!

Santa, surely you do not mean to turn an autistic girl's alabaster rear as red as the nose of Rudolph?!? ..exclaimed I.

That's EXACTLY what I mean, Eeyore! ..slurred Santa.

We.. we have so much to learn from you, Santa! May I possibly observe this disciplining of Greta of which you speak? ..asked Baldur.

BAHH, I've got a few errands to run before I head over to Norway to meat out my naughty list there tomorrow. I suppose I could find a spot for one observer. I'll send the reindeer and sleigh around to pick you up tomorrow.

But what about me, Santa? I usually don't get into the whole spanking thing, but in her case I might strangely find it arousing. ..I said in winter wonderment and childlike anticipation.

Sorry, Eeyore. Regulations state that I can only transport one civvy at a time in the sled. Sorry, buddy.

I was going to try to buy myself a seat on the sled to witness The Disciplining of Greta, but I had to go take a whiz and it was already too late. Santa had to go clip his ingrown toenail before retiring to bed.

Ah, well. Maybe next year, but I think she will be too old for us by then.