Dick stared in awe as the Santa suit hugged the bulging muscles of his biceps. He worked out day and night to ensure that his physique was perfect. In the field of battle, he would need every possible advantage to remain on top. Having a body like his had many advantages. He could not find any disadvantages yet.

He started to walk through the mall. The Christmas spirit had taken hold, spreading through the area. In the center of the floor, a gigantic two-story Christmas tree stood. It over looked the people of the mall—a sign of the holly jolly Christmas spirit. Up ahead, he could see the line of children waiting for him. His empty throne lay ahead. All around the throne were several of the employees of the mall dressed as elves, and other Christmas themed creatures to spread the cheer. Once he began his walk towards it, the children began to cheer.

They love me, Dick thought.

He was a celebrity. One by one, the children started to make their way towards him to begin their requests. The constant stream of requests from the naughty and nice was overwhelming. After dozens of children rotated from his lap, he found himself starting to get on edge.

“I thought Santa was fat?” a boy asked after taking a seat in his lap.

“I’ve been cutting.” Dick replied.

“My dad talks about that, but he says he’s been bulking all year.”

“I remember when I was bulking,” Dick laughed, trying to keep up with his impression. “Eating cookies and ice cream every night feels rewarding, but it takes its toll. Getting gains is not an easy task, my boy. Now, what do you want for Christmas?”

The boy began to go on a long spiel. Just like each child before him, they had a long list of presents. Dick knew that he would not be able to provide them all. He understood why Santa Clause was revered as he was. Being able to travel around the world and deliver all the requested presents was something that made him glad to be in the ATF.

After an hour of requests, he was finally given a break. His head swelled with information. The only thing he could do now was try to get a drink to take his mind off the many responsibilities of being Santa. So, Dick went to the bar down the way, finally getting a chance to drink a Scrub Light from Antheimer’s Bush to drown his worries. The perspiring glass in his hands alone brought him relief.

After sitting down, he had taken notice to Michael on his way over to the bar for his break. The large and burly man took a seat next to him and placed his hat on the counter. Dick’s first thought was how bad he needed to lose some weight and how massive the cut would be if Michael followed through.

“Bartender, I’ll have what he’s having.” Michael said, giving a nod to Dick.

“Drinking on the job, huh?” Dick asked.

“All the champs do it,” Michael replied as the bartender delivered his drink. “Helps keep me focused for the mission.”

“The mission, eh? Amen to that, brother.”

The two clashed glasses; a ring from their cups as signifier of their new found friendship. As they continued the drinks, Michael took notice of his Santa suit and laughed.

“Damn Santa, you’re yoked.” Michael said.

“You know what they say, lift heavy,” Dick replied before taking a sip. “Life’s too damn short to be weak.”

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“That must be why they chose you to wear the suit.”

“It’s not an easy job, I have no idea how Santa does it.”

“I used to think the same,” Michael took another sip and started to stare off in wonder towards the tv with a somber look. “I always wondered how one man can change everything and inspire all the boys and girls to be nice.” He continued to drink his beer during his soliloquy, “I used to wonder who could even remember all of those presents. Of course when I got older, I started to wonder if Santa Clause even existed or if he was something created by our parents just to keep us in line.”

“You have a dark view of the world,” Dick said, feeling horrified at the thought. Being in a world where everybody was kept together over lies to ensure good behavior genuinely terrified him. He used to question his belief in Santa, but every warm encounter in the cold world gave him hope. “I think if I was in your shoes, I might not be able to get through life. Maybe you should have been wearing the suit.”

“That would be the day,” Michael replied, slowly retracting to his memories. Dick could tell there was something beneath the surface bothering him, so he sat back listened, because listening to people with their problems is what Santa would do. “I tried to be Santa once. I was young, foolish.”

“What stopped you?”

“It’s a long story,” Michael said as he looked down towards his glass. He quickly chugged his beer and lowered the glass back to the counter. “Maybe a story for another time. My name’s Michael, Michael Doorsup.”

“Nice to meet you, my name is Dick. Dick Rumbles,” Dick replied as he lifted his hand to him. “Everybody else calls me Santa.”

Michael laughed, returning with a firm handshake, and then leaving the bar. He started to continue his patrol, leaving Dick to think about his upcoming shift. Across the mall, he could already hear the choir being set up. They were about to start the show. Little to his knowledge, the Hamas terrorists were ready to descend on them. Dick paid his tab and started to go back to his spot on the throne. He had to stay strong if he expected to complete the job—he knew Santa would not break. It was up to him to make sure everybody had a holly jolly Christmas.

As he took his seat on his throne, the lines were starting to open again. There was only enough time for a few more requests. He signaled to the elves to let the children pass, anticipating their next move. Just as he started to get prepared, there was the sound of an explosion from the Bath Salts and Bombs on the second floor. The deadly fire ball ignite all of the products inside, causing a horrid smell to envelop the people nearby. Such a sudden and terrible explosion immediately caused the people around to erupt into a stampede..

Achmed and the other terrorists started to make their move. While the people ran for safety, Dick finally rose to his feet and ordered the children and the elves to escape. He was trying to make sense of the situation. Gunfire started to ring out, terrorists began to seize the massive Christmas tree in the middle on the floor. The people all through out the mall began to rush out of the exits, only taking a few minutes to finally clear the mall. Dick knew that there was trouble afoot, and instead held his ground. All across the floor, a sudden ring from the public address system started to screech its way across the floor.

“Greetings people of America,” Achmed’s voice started to boom from the public address system. “We have taken your Christmas hostage! There will be no presents this year, and my people will have their revenge for years of your American Imperialist actions!”

“What the fuck?” Dick gasped.

He drew his pistol to try and scope out the terrorists posted across the mall. With the people out of the way, he knew he was going to have more leeway to do battle with them.

“We have taken your choir hostage,” Achmed addressed them again. “You will give us ten million American dollars and a plane if you want to see them again.”

“Fuck!” Dick shouted.

“Do not test our patience, or we will kill them all. You have one hour. After that, we kill the first hostage. Then we will kill one more every hour on the hour until you give us our money.”

The situation was starting to get hairy. Dick knew that the swat teams would not be able to reach them in time. He continued to weigh his options, but he knew he couldn’t let some douchebag terrorists ruin his Christmas. Once the PA system went silent, he heard an alarm start to blare. The lights overhead flashed red. At every exit, the security doors started to lower. The massive metal doors crashed to the floor, completely barricading every exit. At this point, Dick knew it was up to him to do save Christmas and carry Santa's burden.

“Shit,” Dick muttered. He started to move towards the bar again. “If these terrorists want a war, I’ll give them a war.”