Friday, December 21, 2012

Confidential File Transcript: Then How The Reindeer Loved Him

It's all right. Calm down. We're trying to help you. Do you know where you are?

Norway? Oslo, maybe? Not far enough...

That's correct. Can you tell me your name?

My name is Snowblossom Smith, and I'm begging you - please - I need political asylum. I can't go back there.

Let me get this straight: you need asylum from S-

Oh, God. Not you, too. Look, he's not what you think he is.

Listen, Ma'am...

Sir. I'm a Sir.

Oh. Sorry... mister... Snowblossom. Sorry. Listen, we've seen your file, so it's no use complaining that...

That doesn't strike you as odd? I've been gone from the North Pole for maybe four hours, and you've already got a file on me? What are they accusing me of?

Take it easy. Nobody's accusing you of anything.

Did they say I was crazy? Or suffering from memory loss? Is that why you were asking if I knew where I was?

Listen, I know these people. I know how they work. They've got an image to protect, and since I'm out of their reach, they're going to try to discredit me. You can't let them have me.


Why don't you tell us what happened?

You'll think I'm crazy if I tell you all of it. You can't even imagine what it's like up there. The things that go on... All right, here: take a look at this.

That's... quite a set of bruises.

Yeah. You see that shape? That's a hoofprint. God's honest truth, I was sitting in the canteen trying to eat enough food to carry me through my shift, because...

You have to understand, I've been trying to organize the other elves. We work eighteen, nineteen hour shifts. Then it's three or four hours for food, sleep, maybe a shower if you're lucky. And then we're back on shift. You wouldn't believe the kind of accidents we have, or how bad they can get. My last shift, they carried Dandy off the line in a stretcher - he got his foot crushed in the Nerf gun assembly. It happens. Everybody in the workshop is too tired to see straight.

So, yeah, I've been trying to get us organized. If we could just talk about sensible safety regulations, that would something. But the Big Guy doesn't want to hear it.

So that's why it happened. I don't know if somebody put him up to it, but it wasn't an accident. That red-nosed mutant, the one you call Rudolph? He comes crashing in the door to the canteen. I can see right off that he's drunk and looking for trouble. He's talking about elves who want to spoil Christmas, and how we don't know our place, and then he sees me.

I was lucky to get out with just the bruises. And I knew I couldn't stay there.


That's... quite a story.

That's why I need asylum. I go back there, I won't last three days. It'll be a tragic accident... or I'll just disappear under NPS.

Sorry, Snowblossom, but it's not my call. You'll have to talk to the Foreign Minister about that.

They'll never go for it. If the Big Guy puts pressure on...

Look, I'm not asking you to break the treaty. Just... look over there for a moment, would you?


Over where?

Hey, where'd he go? Damn it, has anybody seen an elf around here?

No comments:

Post a Comment

Feel free to leave comments; it lets me know that people are actually reading my blog. Interesting tangents and topic drift just add flavor. Linking to your own stuff is fine, as long as it's at least loosely relevant. Be civil, and have fun!

Post a Comment