the last time Santa came...
when life gives you lemons , make lemonade, when life gives you christmas, make present-ade.
it started with the self-replicating nanos that i got myself for the holiday. a bit of a shake and bake for you and me. to populate the tree with what we want. the guy that sold it told me it was off the truck, and rubbed his tentacles in anticipation of a sale. well, that was what i guessed. i took the small vial, inside was just ash-gray....ash? i followed the instructions, from the little folded note. ‘add water...two aluminum cans...jack with a standard USB cable...’ easy stuff...
well...i got my computer to whirl a few of these flakes, then the computer died. three hours later, as i was struggling to fix the now-inoperable desktop, i noticed a runny gary sludge coming from the air slits.
the entire office, then the office building in total were turned to sludge in quick succession.
nano soup was spreading across the landscape, turning places of business and other commercial venus to nothingness. oh, sure , boxes of goodies were popping up under trees, and those that chose to avoid the madness, got a free tree whether they like it or not. but under all those trees, and inside all those boxes a gaping hole of dispair was forming. it's nice to get cool stuff for free. but NOTHING is really for free.
“nothing is for free!!” shouted Santa, as he rushed over, riding on Blitzen.
honestly, i did not see that coming. the fat guy standing by my door, with a raindeer shitting in the foyer, eating the welcome mat.
"but...Santa, you must understand the intention was good. i just..."
"i’ll stop you right there! intentions are good? sell that crap to someone else.' intentions were good' , he tells me. see how much trouble was made by idiots with good intentions?..and this isn’t even the first time you do something like this. can’t you get that lump of coal i always have for you into your head?!" he said and did not touch the cocoa i made, even after i irished it up.
after taking in the gravity of tbe situation, and after the raindeer had a fit from a car alarm downstairs, Santa reached into his bag.
he rummged around taking out dentistry equipment, a plunger, the business end of a spinning mop, and an old diskette case. deeper still, he found what he was looking for. a brain cap out of a fifties B-movie. he switched it on and then took an ampule sample of the nano sludge, which was already dripping from the kitchen sink.
he poured the nanos into his mouth. a silent moment passed, and Santa’s eyes flashed red.
“I am the nano entity, here to bring you christmas cheer. thank you for interfacing. how may i help you?" the red-eyed Santa spoke.
"oh....emmm...look...i’ll cut it short. you need to stop destroying human civilization just...to get us presents. we made....I made a terrible mistake...please...you’ve done so much damage already"
"does not conpute" it said. "earthlings wish for presents on holidays, nano entity is here to facilitate!"
"and....em...you’re doing a very good job....but the day after christmas holiday is over most people will not be able to go back to work...they need money..."
"does not conpute. does not conpute. earthlings do not need work for money. nano entity to provide money in case of shortage..."
"but money is not enough. we need people to go to work ...to have a job"
"does not conpute. if humans need work to live, why do they fantasize about Santa Claus, bringing them gifts for just good behavior?"
"yeah..but santa is real, you...are..emm... posessing him right now...and..we don't fantasize about things that we have, we fantasize about what we don’t have. that is the..em...definition of fantasy. please...take this...infestation away and let us just have a normal miserable to so-so christmas. never great but never a disaster like this either "
"very well...nano entities to cease constructive work. "
"oh...thank you..." i said happily. thinking that i finally learned my lesson.
but then i had to say something stupid.
"by the way..." i said to the Santa-turned nano avatar.
"what is it?"
"oh...just...you know....you keep saying ‘conpute’...COMPUTE is the word you are thinking of, i think." i am such a douchbag, believe me, I know.
‘compute.....compute’ said Santa. as his eyes were turning back to their color of black. "all these years....I thought the word was ‘conpute’...but..but...oh god"
"what is it, santa?!" i asked. he looked so worried. i’ve never seen him like that.
"oh...if...IF I WAS WRONG ABOUT A WORD, HOW MANY MISTAKES I MADE WITH THE PRESENTS?!?!"he screamed.
"oh...if...IF I WAS WRONG ABOUT A WORD, HOW MANY MISTAKES I MADE WITH THE PRESENTS?!?!he screamed.
i tried to remind him that its ok, that people make mistakes all the time. but he was inconsolable. after a few minutes of cattatonic despair, he reached into his bag again.
"there is no more hope" he said, and pulled out a gun.
i tried to stop him. I really did...