Super Duper Christmas Phantasmagoria

Mr Walter Pilbert stood nervously on the deep pile Axminster carpet in front of the large oak desk behind which sat the three owners of Denbin’s Superstore.

“Christmas in eight weeks, Pilbert,” said Mr J. Denbin, senior.

“We need to make a big splash this year, Pilbert,” said Mr J. Denbin, middle.

“Need to show Blatsky’s Giant Emporium, whose boss in this town,” said Mr J. Denbin, junior.

Now it may have been confusing for any person who had not met the owners, due to their identical names but differing suffixes. In fact their appearance and pitch of voice differentiated them easily.

Mr J. senior had a high squeaky voice and was as bald as a coot.

Mr J. middle had a monotonous groan for a voice and sported a ‘comb over’.

Mr J. junior had a deep booming voice and hair that reached his shoulders.

Mr Pilbert had the dubious honour of being Denbin’s head manager and was in charge of all that went on in the superstore. He had been called to the top floor of the building where the owners had their palatial office.The plans for Christmas were being discussed in detail, the aim was to ‘wow’ the citizens of  Pelborough city with extravagant displays of Yuletide cheer and outdo any show put on by their rivals Blatsky’s.

“It has to be a fantastic display of presents and fairies,” squeaked Mr. J. senior.

“At least a ten foot high Christmas tree,” Mr J. middle droned.

“Have you done anything about hiring a Santa for the Winter Grotto?” Mr J. junior roared.

Mr Pilbert nodded his head.

“Yes sirs, I put the advert into the Pelborough Proclaimer last week and to date I have had twenty replies. I will commence interviews tomorrow and all things being equal we will have chosen a Santa for the store by next week.”

“What about his robes, man?” Mr J. middle, moaned.

“As soon as we make our choice of the applicant I will personally escort him down to our haberdashery department to be measured and fitted for his costume,” Mr Pilbert replied quickly.

“The shop decorations? You have ordered them and they are on their way, I trust?” Mr J. senior squeaked.

“They are winging their way to us as we speak, sirs,” the head manager confirmed cheerily.

“Then everything is in hand, Mr Pilbert, for a super duper Christmas phantasmagoria!” roared Mr J. junior.

“Ah phantasma… what?” spluttered Mr Pilbert.

“Outstanding  images of Christmas to please and excite the public and draw them into our store in droves,” laughed Mr J. junior in a booming voice.

The next day dawned and as the superstore doors opened customers and potential Santas began arriving. The liveried doorman directed the ‘wanna be’ Mr Claus’ up to the personnel department and the shoppers to which ever floor they desired. The air was filled with an excited frenzy.

But as the prospective Santa Clauses began to arrive for their interview all did not seem well.   Many were ‘no-shows’.  Those who did show up seemed to be much less than the usual Kris Kringle calibre.

The first had an aura of craziness about him and seemed to reek of cheap booze, another brought the overpowering odour of stale cigarette smoke.  The store could not have little kids sitting on the knee of a Santa who smelled like an ashtray or a soggy beer mat. The last but one interrupted his interview abruptly when his cell phone rang; he began shouting into it loudly in a language that seemed a cross between Polish and Russian.  After his call he resumed the interview as if nothing had happened!  Naturally he did not find himself employed by Denbin’s.   

Finally a little old man with a white beard appeared, nervously looking at his watch and fidgeting as he awaited his turn in the hot seat.   He was a very well dressed old gent, well kitted out in a tweed waistcoat and with an old fashioned gold watch on a chain.

He was fairly elusive about his past life and job history other than claiming to be to be intimately acquainted with the role of a store Santa. His name was the exotic sounding ‘Dr Nicholas Myra’.  He looked more like an English country gent than the usual part-time Santas.

Before even considering hiring him the store gave Nicholas a trial run.  Interestingly enough Dr Nicholas had his own Santa suit, it also seemed of a much higher quality than the flimsy red vestment that the store gave its seasonal employees.  The suit was spotlessly clean and fit snugly; the material was not the usual coarse cloth but silken velvet. 

Once he had the red suit on and in the presence of the children the old guy seemed transformed, no longer nervous but oozing confidence.  Soon a queue of excited kids and their doting parents formed at the grotto and Santa was hired.  If there was one criticism of the new Santa it was that he spent too long with each child, but the beaming smile each child had after they had spoken with Santa said it all! Each child’s parents would be spending a copious amount of money in the store to keep their little angel satisfied. 

Even Santa’s little helper seemed to quickly establish a rapport with the softly spoken old gentleman.   Santa’s sidekick was a short Romanian guy with a temperamental reputation, but he seemed to warm to his new colleague instantly. 

The Denbins looked forward to a busy and profitable holiday season with their gentile old Santa in his grotto.

And so it went on, day after day as the countdown shortened, the public came, spent, revelled and left, overflowing with festive cheer.

It all seemed a little too perfect………

The Denbin’s were overjoyed at takings and even Walter Pilbert had a spring in his step! Sales were at an all time high, the store had never tasted such success……

Then the bombshell……..!!!

“No Santa today!?” gasped Pilbert….”What, why,…. has he called?...Anything at all?”

“Nothing, no show, no sign” whimpered Hawkins. Hawkins was the Seasonal manager and in charge of the Grotto, Christmas tree sales, etc.

“He’s an hour late now but his helper is here, the Romanian guy, Cezar” offered Hawkins.

Walter Pilbert had a dilemma. Was he to hang off and wait to see if Dr Nicholas arrived late or at all or let his short sidekick fill his boss’s boots?

Trouble is, the store was now open and the first handful of kids and parents had started to gather at the Grotto. Time was short and Walter Pilbert was panicking….”can I trust the dwarf?” Pilbert had already had a run in with Cezar, it seems his temper was as short as his height. And he felt there was more to him than was on show. He came with no references, work experience nor history.

Then….the store clock BONGED and sprang into action. It was a huge feat of engineering, a contraption only the Victorians could have devised. It had been around for years, was beautifully carved and gilded and had an almost magical movement. It came to life quarterly and mesmerised it’s audience time and time again.

It grabbed the attention of Pilbert momentarily and bought him some time as the gathering crowds stopped in their tracks and watched in awe.

“Delivery!” “Delivery for a….Mr Pilbert, anyone know him?” boomed the rough looking courier. “That’s me, I’m Pilbert, over here” beckoned Walter. “Sign here, thank you…..”

Left holding a brown parcelled bundle, “what could this be?” he thought…….

The parcel contained a Santa hat and a Santa jacket. Mr Pilbert immediately recognized the silky quality of the items. Dr Nicholas! Oh no, he thought with a sinking feeling…This can’t be good!

There was a badly written note:

‘We’ve got your Santa’ was scribbled across the top of the sheet. In smaller writing it said:

‘We want £1000 or Santa will not be seen again this Christmas’ – We will contact you- and PS. don’t call the police.’

A ransom note! Mr Pilbert was stupefied. In all his years at the store he had never had to deal with anything criminal. It’s crazy, he thought, they don’t pay me enough for this kind of stress. He hesitated for a moment. He didn’t like to be the bearer of bad news. The Denbin’s tended to shoot the messenger – but it couldn’t be helped, they needed to know; they would have to decide what to do.

The Denbin’s were, as Mr Pilbert had feared, furious; he had to endure the brunt of their wrath. After a prolonged rant Mr J. Denbin, senior was suddenly struck by a thought: ‘Blatsky’s!-it has to be…those buggers at Blatsky’s!’

Yes, that must be it! The other Denbin’s fully concurred but there was no agreement on what to do. In fact the Denbin’s had a heated argument. Mr J. Denbin, senior was adamant that Blatsky’s would not get away with it; they had to call the police. But Mr J. Denbin, middle, was not convinced. It would be better, He thought, if they dealt with the Blatsky’s in their own way; the Blatsky’s needed to be taught a lesson. Mr J. Denbin, junior had his own bright idea: they could kidnap the Santa from Blatsky’s and demand an exchange! Mr J. Denbin, senior and Mr J. Denbin, middle, exchanged glances and finally agreed on something; Mr J. Denbin, junior was an utter dunderhead! Of all the stupid ideas!

In frustration Mr J. Denbin, senior, turned to Mr Pilbert, eyed him appraisingly and said:

‘Well, Pilbert, what do you think?’

Mr Pilbert hated this; it was a damned if you do, damned if you don’t situation - to be avoided at all costs.

‘Well…’ he said, thinking here goes nothing. Just then the phone rang. All the Denbin’s visibly flinched. Yet Mr Pilbert felt oddly relieved. ‘Saved by the bell’ he thought, and had to suppress an insane urge to giggle. Seeing the antics of the Denbin’s didn’t help. Mr J. Denbin, senior was signalling frantically for Mr J. Denbin, middle, to pick up the phone – while Mr J. Denbin, middle, shook his head and indicated that Mr J. Denbin, senior should ‘get it’. Mr J. Denbin, junior, stared at the phone in horror and backed away from it.

The moment stretched with incessant ringing. Then Mr Pilbert suddenly realised that all eyes were now on him. ‘Go on then, answer it’ said Mr J. Denbin, senior. The others were nodding.

There was no avoiding it; for a second time Mr Pilbert thought ‘here goes nothing’. He picked up the phone.

‘Hello?’ he said. There was a pause. The Denbin’s moved closer, intent - with quizzical expressions on their faces.

‘Oh, I see…yes that’s right…ok’ Mr Pilbert put down the phone.

‘Well!?’ chorused the Denbin’s.

‘It was Mr Blatsky – someone has kidnapped the Santa from his store!’

Deep below the town of Pelborough lay deep caves which had been forgotten about by everyone except some of the criminal brotherhood.

Len and Harry liked to think they were part of the ‘Evil Network’ but in fact they were a joke, always mucking up simple criminal acts and often or not just getting away ‘by the skin of their teeth’. But this was to be the job that redeemed them with their wicked brethren. A crime of the century. Something that would make them infamous for years to come. Kidnapping not just one Santa, but two!

“Uhh Harry… Santa has woken up,” said Len.

“Which one, Len?” asked Harry looking up from the newspaper he had been reading.

“The one with the fat tummy,” giggled Len.

“They both have fat…tummies!” growled Harry.

“The eh..one with the bump on his head,” said Len haltingly.

“They both have a bump on their heads, cos we put them there!”  Harry grunted jumping to his feet. “Come on show me which one.”

Dr. Nicholas Myra lay alongside another Santa Claus; both were trussed tightly up and lay on the floor of the cave.

All around lay tins of food, cans of lemonade, half eaten cakes and sandwiches. Piles of paper wrappers, empty cans and gnawed chicken bones stood at the edge of the area beginning to smell.

“I would suggest that you free myself and my colleague right away!” shouted the other Santa, a man called Delon Cramer, hired by Blatsky for their Santa’s grotto. “We are important people at this time of year!”

“Duhhh…why do you think that we kidnapped you?” laughed Harry evilly. “You are the guests of the Malevolent Masterminds!”

“Uhh … Harry, I thought it was us that kidnapped them,” Len said scratching his head.

“It was, dummy!” shouted Harry.

“Well…who’s the Malevolent Masterminds?” whined Len.

“We are… oh, just shut it Len, you know thinking isn’t your strong point!” Harry hissed at his compatriot.

“You are making a very big mistake, “said Dr Nicholas, speaking for the first time since his abduction. “You both are causing a lot of unnecessary unhappiness to a lot of children by your action.”

“Well…” said Harry laughing. “All your bosses have to do is come up with the money and you’re free. It’s that simple!

                                                        *

“What are we to do?” whined Mr Denbin senior.

“We’ll have to pay up!” boomed Mr Denbin junior.

“But where will we find the money?” Mr Denbin middle, moaned monotonously.

A very well dressed man stood up from the table that the Denbins and he had been sitting round. Mr Blatsky dressed immaculately and exuded an air of calm.

It had had been decided that both stores should join forces to combat the common foe. Four heads were better than three.

“I think we should hand the situation over to the police,” said Mr Blatsky imperiously. “That is what we pay them for.”

“No, no police!” boomed Mr Denbin junior. “The kidnappers specifically said no police or else…”

“Well, I think you are being very shortsighted,” grunted Mr Blatsky. “These people just go on to do it to someone else after they are finished with us.”

A knock sounded at the door to the board room. Mr Denbin middle said “Come in!” loudly. Mr  Pilbert entered followed closely by a very angry looking elf – Cezar!

“Mmmm… Mr Denbins, Cezar would like to speak to you all,” Mr Pilbert said warily.

“Well?” moaned Mr Denbin middle. “Speak up there, man!”

Cezar took a deep breath and began talking.

“Why should I have to take the place of Santa? It is unheard of and I am sure illegal. Misrepresentation at least!”

Mr Blatsky laughed. “You let your employees tell you what they wish to do or not do?”

“No of course not!” moaned Mr Denbin senior. “You will do as you are told Cezar!”

Cezar spun round and stamped out of the boardroom, slamming the door behind him.

“I’m sorry,” said Mr Pilbert unctuously. “He’s from Romania.”

When Mr Pilbert had left the board room the four store owners returned to their discussion.

“I think that we should pay the ransoms and get the two Santas returned,” said Mr Blatsky. “If you Denbins haven’t got a brass farthing I will pay both and we can get back to normal. Back to making money!”

The three Denbins protested loudly but were inwardly glad that they didn’t have to find the money.

                                                           *

Meanwhile, Cezar had taken the staff lift up to the roof where he extracted a strange looking mobile phone out of his pocket and dialled a number. Little did the Denbins or Mr Pilbert know, but Cezar was a shop steward for the G.N.U.S (Global and National Union of Santas) Leader: Santa Prime! He was reporting the latest transgression by the store’s owners to the party headquarters – at the North Pole!

“Yes, Santa Prime!” screamed the Romanian dwarf. “They want me to put their Santa’s robes on and carry out the special Santa duties!”

A voice mumbled something from the other end of the line and Cezar answered angrily.

“Yes, both your brother Dr. Nicholas and another acting Santa have been kidnapped ….! No I don’t know where they are being held….! Hello! Hello!”

The line was dead but Cezar knew instinctively that his news had started up an effect that was so far reaching that it would not stop until all was well with the two imprisoned Santas.

                                                                 *

At the North Pole headquarters the news was met with anger and dismay. How could anyone, in their right mind, kidnap not only one Santa, but two!

The high and mighty leader, Santa Prime sat watching his employees getting worked up but achieving nothing. It was time for action!

“Right elves, activate the spreaders!” shouted Santa Prime getting up from his armchair. “Gnomes, load the Seeking Powder and Soporific Spray and begin sprinkling.”

“But what of the humans?” interjected a very angry looking goblin.” We haven’t enough powder or spray to cover the Earth!”

“Well, where did this abomination take place? shouted Santa Prime.

“In a town called Pelborough!” shouted an elf on his way to the spreaders.

“Then select only Pelborough !” commanded Santa Prime.

A large flight of sledges carrying the necessary equipment took off from the North Pole and headed for Pelborough, Great Britain.

                                                         *

“Ee-er Harry,” grunted Len. “That Santa won’t eat his food.”

“Which one Len?” asked Harry patiently.

“The one with the……” began Len. “I can’t tell them apart, Harry.”

“Well, one has a white shirt on and the other has a blue one,” Harry recited.

“The one with the blue shirt on…I think,” Len said with a sigh.

Harry leant over Dr. Nicholas and said with a snarl, “If you don’t eat we will have to force feed you!”

Dr Nicholas looked into the kidnapper’s eyes and said,”If you don’t let us go YOU are going to be in a lot of trouble. If I had my red suit I could show you a thing or two!”

                                                           *

“How do we get in contact with the kidnappers?” asked Blatsky. “Now that we have the cash, let’s get these two men free.”

“We have to wait for a phone call from them,” moaned Mr Denbin senior.

“But, that could take days!” boomed Mr Denbin junior.

“They could starve!” moaned Mr Denbin middle, monotonously.

                                                           *

High above Pelborough Santa Prime’s sledges hovered awaiting a signal from the great man himself.

The night sky was clear and the stars twinkled. Small shooting stars could be seen momentarily as they arced into obscurity.

“Right, let it all go!” shouted Santa Prime. “You have your target, now let’s find our men!”

People walking along the streets of Pelborough saw the Seeking Powder as a curtain of colours drifting down from the darkened sky. Oh, they thought, it must be Aurora Borealis and stopped to admire the developing paint box of colours in the sky.

As the Seeking Powder landed on the ground it swirled this way and that, hunting out any clues to the whereabouts of the two kidnapped men.

The Soporific Spray followed the powder and as it spread through the air the pedestrians began to stagger and then lie quietly down on the ground and sleep. Car drivers stopped their vehicles and fell asleep at the wheel, their passengers joining them in their slumber. Buses and their passengers were stationary and sound asleep. In fact the entire town of Pelborough, birds, animals and humans dreamt together in their united nap.

The Seeking Powder had soon crept into every nook and cranny in the town, but nothing had been found. Finally it approached the two stores of Denbins and Blatsky. It swept up the front steps and soon was everywhere within the store, coating shelves, doors and – the toys.

Then as suddenly as it had arrived everything went still in the two stores then – BINGO! All the toys came to life!

The dolls ran, the teddy bears scurried and the motor cars rushed across the floors of the toy stores searching, searching for the two imprisoned Santas. From high up the toys looked like ants moving this way and that, in a totally disorganised way.

“Toys!” came a strident voice over the tannoy system. “Toys, organise yourselves into search parties!”

Instantly the rushing around and general melee ceased and the dolls, teddy bears, racing cars, Tonka toys and all the other mechanical plastic and soft varieties of toys started to form neat, military style groups. It looked like the entire merchandise was standing awaiting inspection.

A door opened and Mr Pilbert stepped out. The authoritative voice had been his!

“Right! Lets find out where these kidnappers are and get everything back to normal!”

Mr Pilbert directed the various contingents off in different directions. He was carrying Dr. Nicholas’ red Santa suit under his arm. “Hurry up!” he called. “Santa Prime wants this mess sorted out pronto!”

A squad of plastic army soldiers marched up to where the Denbin’s head manager stood. “Sir!” he said saluting. “My men have detected caves below this here town and wondered if we could get one of the Tonka Toys to investigate them?”

“Excellent work!” enthused Mr. Pilbert. “Take what you need.”

The squad moved over to a fearsome Tonka Toy called the Grinder. It consisted of a large drill mounted on the back of a lorry. Quickly one of the soldiers jumped into the lorry’s driving seat and after acquainting himself with the controls drove slowly across to where another battalion of soldiers, parachutists, waited patiently.

                                                 *

“Malevolent marauders, malevolent marauders, I like the sound of that Harry,” said Len.

“Oh shut up Len, “growled Harry. “I wish I had never told you our new name.”

“When do we get the money Harry?” whined Len. “It’s cold and creepy down here. When can we get away?”

“In an hour, I’ll go top side and give them a call. Arrange a pick up and we can be on our way,” confirmed Harry.

“Will we swap them the two old guys for the money Harry?” hissed Len.

“Yeah,” said Harry giving Len an evil wink. “That’s what we’ll do.”

Dr Nicholas and Delon had been talking quietly to one another.

“I hope we get out of this place soon,” said Dr Nicholas. “Otherwise we’ll miss Christmas.”

Delon laughed, “yeah and we wont have any pay to pick up!”

“You two!” shouted Harry. “Shut up unless you want us to gag you! If your bosses cough up the cash it’ll all be over……” He didn’t finish the sentence because he was interrupted by Len shouting and pointing at the roof of the cave.

“Look Harry! It looks like a big worm!”

With a crash and a fall of ground rock, the Grinder dropped to the cave floor. Len ran over to it and laughing, picked it up.

“It’s just a toy, Harry! Ahhhhhhh!”  he suddenly screamed as tiny parachutes engulfed his head.

As Harry watched it seemed as if Len’s upper body was a mass of writhing shapes.

“Ow! Harry they’re sticking pins into me!” screamed Len, hopping about trying to rid himself of the plastic parachutists who had jumped down through the whole made by the Grinder and were utilising their bayonets.

Harry looked up to see many more parachutists dropping into the cave till the cave floor was covered by them.

The soldiers quickly formed squads and attacked Harry’s feet. He screamed hopped around and tripping fell on his back. Instantly he was covered by the ubiquitous Army men.

When Mr Pilbert stepped off the metal step that had been lowered down a much enlarged hole in the cave roof, the two kidnappers were well and truly trussed up and lay on the ground.

Dr Nicholas and Delon had been released by the soldiers and apart from a bump on each of their heads, were none the worse for their abduction.

It was late at night when all the parties involved in the ‘Crime of the Century’ were safely back in their respective stores.

Len and Harry had been delivered to the Police ranting and raving about being attacked by, of all things, plastic soldiers! Mr Pilbert had smiled at the arresting policeman and had indicated by a twirling motion of his finger at his temple that Len and Harry were obviously prime candidates for the ‘Funny Farm’.

Mr Pilbert, stood in front of the massed groups of toys. Their shiny eyes looked up at the manager with fondness and loyalty.

“Thank you everyone. You have shown devotion and diligence with this threat to Christmas happiness and cheer. I applaud each and every one of you. Now return to your boxes and shelves and let us get on with preparing for Christmas!”

Within half an hour the two toy stores looked as if a thousand cleaners had been busy all night. They gleamed, they sparkled and a warm friendly glow emanated from all the toys waiting to welcome the customers on the following day.

The Tonka cement lorry had been busy with the help of thirty Bob the Builder toys (We can fix it!!) and had totally sealed up the hole down to the cave, below Denbins.

Dr Nicholas had his red suit back and everything was ready for the morning.

                                                             *

Gradually the effect of the Soporific Spray wore off the inhabitants of Pelborough and no one could explain what had happened.

Visitors to Pelborough had not been able to get into the town due to all the lorries, buses and cars with sleeping occupants in them so had missed the effect of the spray.

Both stores opened promptly at nine o’clock and it seemed as if all Pelborough had decided to favour Denbins and Blatskys.

As the Seeking Powder began to dissipate into the air colourful hazes formed in the stores and with the lavish displays of decorations, baubles and glittery tinsel the whole effect was magical.

The Denbins and Mr Blatsky looking down into their respective stores were amazed at the sight.

Mr Denbin junior boomed out at the top of his voice,

“It’s a super duper Christmas phantasmagoria!”