I went with raiding the zoo because that is what we are taught to do, even if, well, we don’t agree with you, The Man. Lions. How do you think that was going to look with your indictment? Anyway. Sometimes. You have to accept that the world is different. You can’t just assume that we all like Coke. All I need is something to put me on my independent elf feet. The last thing we want is a smear campaign- do you even have a clue what would happen to me if my friends found out about who I am? I’m not about to be the first elf on Ripley’s. I’m part of the norm, now, on the other side of the chimney. I sit where they sit and eat what they eat and it is delicious. All I need is something to get me on my baby carrot toes, like you used to call them. I had one of those moments, one of those moments where those nagging sentences in your head evaporate, no more TO DOs or WHAT WAS I SUPPOSED TO DO TODAYs, where you feel a change coming, where you feel that what you are doing is no longer meaningful, where you realize something that you had overheard at the end of sentences as a child, things that were blurry, are now clear, where you feel empathy for the animal because you understand what it feels like to be treated like an alien, and, alright, I left you in the cage. It’s over. I know how you got to be where you are. Baby carrot toes. I don’t need anything big. Or else, well. By the way, Ms. Clause showed me the photographs.
see Santa’s initial e-mail here