Office Politics at the North Pole

"Welcome back, old friend. Just two of us left this season. Blitzen bought his twelve feet of tundra last summer and Prancer took early retirement."

"Aw damn, Dancer, they always carried their weight, not like these new recruits. It feels like me and you are pullin' the whole freakin' sled by ourselves. And Ol' St. Nick ain't gettin' any lighter."

"Dasher, you just don't like change. Remember when Rudolph showed up? You laughed and called him names and never let him join in any reindeer games. He turned out okay -- well, until last year. He'll sure go down in history!"

"It's not just change. It's, ya know, all these different types. It used to be so comfortable flyin' with our own kind."

"Hey, aren't you missing the point of Christmas? Anyhow, we got bigger problems. Since Rudolph screwed-up, Santa put the elves in charge of transportation, and they've been throwing their weight around -- as if they weighed anything to begin with. I guess they didn't have enough to do screwing up production and distribution!"

"Yeah, if they did the lists right the first time, they wouldn't need to keep checkin' 'em twice. Speakin' of which here comes the head gnome out to the stables now. I hope he doesn't step in anything and ruin his cute little slippers."

"Good evening gentle-beasts. And I use the phrase advisedly. I thought we'd be rid of you after you dragged Santa down that nuclear cooling tower Rudolph thought was a chimney. The chief should have canned you along with that shiny-nosed freak."

"Okay, Rumplemintz. Say your piece and get lost. Anyway, it was a foggy eve."

"Don't get sassy Dasher. I'm just checking on the latest security requirements. You've installed the new Kevlar doors on the sled and added the extra seat for the elf marshal? And you know once we pack the sleigh, it can't be out of your possession at any time?"

"Yeah, yeah. We can read directives."

"Oh really. I thought you motley wildebeests only ate them."

"Ain't no sawed-off runt gonna insult my people. Take your clipboard and your little pointy ears and go back to corporate!"

"Wow, Dasher! Way to stick up for the guys, but I thought you didn't like them 'cause they're different than us?"

"I got thinkin' Dancer. We reindeer gotta stick together 'cause we got more in common than what separates us."
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And so early on Christmas morn, after completing their appointed rounds in the fastest time ever, Santa turned the team north, whistling and calling out their names: "Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Abe and Jose. On, Abdula! on, Latricia! on, Little Dove and Shu Lay! Happy Christmas to All! And to All a Goodnight!"