The Brown Scooter December 2014 | Page 42

Mutual fund account: NIL. PPF account: NIL. Savings account: NIL. “Dude, you read about the guy who spends his yearly savings distributing gifts among the poor and homeless?” “Yeah. World’s best Santa or what!” *In a corner beside the printer, sat a lone man with a smile on his face, typing away at his keyboard.* Ingredient 4 “What a well-lit, cheerful house! Let’s finish this.” *THUD* Dry, withered tree. Broken glass baubles. Furiously torn-open presents. Rat-infested socks. Nauseating odour from the fire place. “What the…” The chimney shuts with a thump as he stumbles over bodies on the floor. “Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way…” a half-broken LP starts playing. “Why can’t we have any presents, Santa? Just 3 this year, look around you.” Ingredient 5 “I have been waiting for you, dear Santa!” She pinned him to the mantelpiece and smooched him under the mistletoe. “Ssshhhh… it’s time someone returned the favour. I’ll be YOUR Santa.” She pulled up her stockings, kneeled down and freed his candy cane. He grabbed her baubles as she took him deep. Bells over the fireplace rang loud as the head bobbing got crazier. A snowy Christmas, it was.