Super-Santa

By jinnis

When Rudi brought the spandex, Nick knew it was going too far.

"I'm not wearing this. For a man of my age and stature, it's ridiculous."

"Please, the kids will love it. These days, they all are into superheroes. Here!" Rudi opened a browser window and skipped through a few ads and movie trailers like an expert. "While you slept, I studied the current marketing trends. These," he pointed at the old man's neatly folded garments on the table, "are out. Ridiculous. Symbols of a past gone by and buried."

Nick shook his head in denial. "A glorious past and symbols serving me fine for generations. Why change what works and has tradition? No-one complained."

"Ha." Rudi pointed to a stack of printouts. "Did you ever study the stats? Your numbers are on the decline. Kids aren't interested in long-standing legends anymore. Not with space-age and the internet and stuff going on."

"Stuff. What kind of stuff?" Nick's temper was slow to rise, but this was more than he was ready to stomach.

"YouTube, Netflix—just open your eyes, old man. You have to keep up with the trends." Rudi waved his papers, but the gesture was ruined by a sneeze that sent them flying in all directions. Like a flurry of autumn leaves, they settled on the workshop floor.

Nick ignored them. He wasn't into this modern way of keeping stuff on loose sheets. No, if something was important, he noted it in his trusty leather-bound notebook. He wasn't into trends—never had been. "Rudolph, I appreciate your research, but let's play this the old way. I'm not a superhero, and I never wished to be one. Besides, are you ill?"

Rudi's face fell while he wiped his running nose. "Nothing to worry about, it's just a cold. Well, if you really hate them so much..."

Nicks problem was that he couldn't handle the disappointment written across Rudi's face. They'd done this drill together for centuries. So, why not humour his old friend? He sighed and slipped out of his comfy flannel pyjamas to dress in the bright red costume. It was tight but to his surprise stretchy enough to accommodate his bulging belly.

A tiny elf scurried to present him a mirror, and he studied himself with squinted eyes. The suit was bright red with thick padded shoulders, a fancy logo stitched in silver across his chest. He had to brush aside his curly beard to study the design. "What's this supposed to represent?"

"It's two letters S, for Super-Santa." Rudi's proud smile prevented Nick from commenting. "Do you like it?"

"Um. It's... interesting. A bit on the wild side, perhaps."

"It's supposed to be graffiti style. Very trendy."

"Right." Nick sighed. Since when was he supposed to be trendy? He used to enjoy his annual December outing, but Rudi's sales talk made him feel old. "Are you sure my outfit matters? The old one served me fine. Besides, it was warmer."

Rudi snorted. "It wouldn't fit your transport. You'd look ridiculous."

"My transport? Well, now you mention it, we should load up. I'd like to get a head start." Nick clapped his hands. "Prepare the sleigh, folks, time to let that ancient beauty shine."

"Um." Rudi sniffed, and Nick was suddenly sure he wouldn't like the next surprise any more than the new outfit.

"No need for a sleigh anymore. We got a new transport, far faster and designed by real professionals."

A frown formed on Nick's forehead while he followed his associate to the sleigh shed, still feeling half-naked and exposed in his thin suit. In the door, he stopped in his track, all thoughts about his state of dress forgotten. The space his trusted ornamental transport used to take in was now dominated by a shining red monstrosity. The frown deepened. "What is this?"

"We call it the santamobile. Isn't it just perfect?"

"Ugh." He walked around the thing to study the planes and angles of shiny red metal and plastic, the streamlined cockpit hood of silver-lined, black-tinted crystal glass. The hood carried the same logo as his chest piece above a front spoiler almost touching the floor, and the black rubber of the giant tyres showed little Christmas tree patterns. Clearly, this car was custom made.

Nick took a step back to take in the whole thing. The huge rear spoiler spoke of the velocities the thing was meant to master. He shook his head. "Impressive."

"I knew you'd love it. It's got more horsepower than the batmobile. And guess what, it was built by the same workshop. They are the best. Our santamobile is even fitted with a state of the art Hi-Fi system and four loudspeakers, so you can play Jingle Bells during the approach."

At a loss for words, Nick made to scratch his bum. But that was a weird gesture in a formfitting spandex suit. Instead, he combed his fingers through his beard. Not as satisfying as bum-scratching though. "I'm sure this is very nice. But... I hate to point it out, where am I supposed to put the gifts for the children?"

Rudi's face fell, and Nick felt sorry for statin the obvious. "I'm sure you meant well, old friend. Let's try to find a working solution, shall we?"

He picked up one of the heavy sacks with wrapped gifts as if it weighed not more than an average shopping bag. Rudi pressed a button on a remote control, and the cockpit roof swung back. The inside was dominated by two enormous bucket seats leaving no room for parcels at all. The only solution would be to cram them into one of the seats. Some of them.

Nick scratched his beard. "Either you or I will have to do the deliveries alone, in several turns."

"Doesn't work. This beauty needs me as a pilot and you as a navigator. You're the only one who can find all the delivery points."

"Can I drive it alone?"

"Do you have a valid driving license? Also, the driver's seat is kind of narrow."

Nick studied the arrangement and prepared to climb into the cockpit. His old bones creaked and when he swung his leg over the rim, he snagged his new suit on one of the protruding silver fins. With a screeching sound, the spandex tore, and Nick felt the cold on his exposed buttock.

Rudi studied the damage, the red of his flushed face matching his nose. "How embarrassing. I'll call in the elves to sew this up. It's no bother at all, will hardly take a minute."

It took a bit of contortion to study the tear himself, but Nick came to the insight no sewing would be able to repair the damage in time for Christmas. He shook his head. "Look, Rudi, this just wasn't meant to be. Let's do it the traditional way, shall we?" He pointed to his exposed butt. "You wouldn't want me to climb down a chimney like this. I'd be arrested straight away for harassment or worse."

His friend fetched his old suit with drooping antlers and ears. "Here. It's such a pity. Your entry would have been grand."

Nick shrugged into his heavy, red coat, picked up his favourite scarf, the blue knitted one, and wrapped it around his throat. The scarf had been a present from Destiny herself and sparkled with tiny golden stars. The elves insisted it clashed with his traditional outfit, but this time, he wouldn't let himself be talked out of wearing it.

Fashion be damned, he was Nick, the one and only Santa Claus, and either the children took him as he was, beard, scarf and all, or they could forget about Christmas. While he wedged his feet into the heavy boots, he called for the elves and reindeer. "Time to move, let's load up and fly!"

His stern voice still did the trick. Moments later, everyone hustled to the shed and stood around the santamobile.

Nick frowned at the assembly. "Not this one, we take the sleigh. Move, we lost enough time already, and we have a few million deliveries to make."

The elves hurriedly stowed all the parcels in the magical trunk of the sleigh, and the reindeer exchanged glances. Rudolph silently shook his head. A mighty sneeze ruined his defiant gesture. His cold held him in a tight grip. When he'd cleared his dripping nose, the others had taken their places in front of the sleigh. Rudi shrugged and followed his mates. Santa studied him, a deep frown marring his forehead.

"Your nose is redder than my coat, old friend. Perhaps you should take a break this year."

Rudolph shook his head and stamped an impatient hoof, as stubborn as his master. Nick smiled while he unwrapped his scarf. Some things never changed, and he was glad for it. "Here, wear this one. It will keep you warm. We have a long night ahead of us."

And that's why Rudolph wore a new scarf instead of driving a fancy santamobile during this delivery. But in the end, no-one noticed. The children were happy, and so was Nick.

Destiny smiled and continued her knitting.