It was a starry night and the snowflakes drifted down
gently. The snowcrust sparkled in the lamplight at the
North Pole. Sleigh bells jingled in the distance.
It was supposed to be a happy time, but it wasn't. Santa
was really pissed off. It was Christmas eve and
NOTHING was going right. Mrs. Claus had burned all the
Christmas cookies. The Elves were bitching about not
getting paid for the overtime they had put in while making
toys. And to top it all off, the reindeer had been drinking
all afternoon and were completely useless. They had
taken the sleigh out for a spin earlier in the day and
crashed it into a tree, breaking off one of the runners.
They were still stumbling around outside, giggling and
shaking their sleigh bells.
Santa was redder than usual with anger. He drank
another slug of scotch, and then bellowed, "I CAN'T
believe it! I've got to deliver millions of presents all over
the world in just a few hours from now and all my
reindeer are drunk, my Elves are on strike and I don't
even have a Christmas tree! I sent that stupid little Angel
out HOURS a go to find a tree and he isn'teven back yet!
What the HELL am I going to do?"
Just then the Little Angel opened the front door and
stepped in from the snowy night, dragging a Christmas
tree behind him. He said, "Yo, Santa, where do you want
me to stick the Christmas Tree this year?"
And thus the tradition of Angels perched atop the
Christmas trees came to pass.