From his hut, Santa looked out of the frosted window. The sleigh was half-buried in snow and the reindeer were facing the wind with half shut eyes.
He had been having a rest when the door swung open and a speechless elf had just delivered a dispatch – it had ‘URGENT’ scribbled untidily on the envelope.
He dug his teeth into chunky white and red gloves to remove them and then tore off the corner of the envelope.
Dear Santa,
We have a very special assignment for you.
It is quite far away but I am sure you will feel better with a little change in weather.
You must leave at once and take advantage of the North West tail wind. Your destination is Malta and Gozo. You have a gold envelope and in it you have 10 small envelopes for 10 special people: Vince Farrugia, Joseph Muscat, George Abela, Tonio Fenech, Austin Gatt, Marlene Pullicino Orlando, Francis Zammit Dimech and last but not least, Lawrence Gonzi. They are all addressed to special people with special wishes. To help you we have also included their mobile numbers, just in case Rudolph your experienced Reindeer does not track them down.
Okay, Godspeed and good luck,
Hauskaa joulua!
The Santa Commission!
Abisko, Lappland,
Finland
Santa looked at the white expanse of snow and the fir trees spiked and iced like mismatched triangles. A Snowy owl glided over the snow and disappeared behind the trees. Santa itched his red nose and walked outside into the biting cold.
“Bloody cold!”
“Language, language,” Rudolph quipped.
Rudolph was a unique Reindeer, not only gifted with the orientation of a TOMTOM GPS but more importantly, Rudolph could talk like any human.
“Rudolph, I have a problem.”
“What is it?”
“ I have no idea where the f*** is Malta?”
“Santa you remind me of all those girls from Sacred Heart who never learnt their geography. Malta, dear Santa, is south of Sicily, north of Libya. They talk a Semitic language which sounds like Arabic without the GRRR.”
“Eh, what about the people?”
“Well, they are rather nice. They are quite inward-looking, self-centred but they are very hospitable. They always talk about politics, money and, of course, sex. And by the way they are Roman Catholic and very conservative on the outside.”
“Is that all?”
“No, but why are you asking?”
“Well Rudi, we are being asked to leave to Malta at once, we some post to deliver to eight high profile personalities.”
“Good, at long last, but we have one problem!”
“What is it?”
“We have to arrive there during the night – the Island is renowned for its ugly and cruel hunters who shoot anything that flies. But otherwise we should not have any problems.”
“Okay Rudi, tell your buddies to get ready. We are leaving in 20 mins.”
Rudi turned round to the quadruped groupie.
“Franco D, see that you get your toothpaste... we are leaving.
“Peppi A, if you have to visit the WC, do so now, we have no time for stops on the way.
“Lou B, this time get your suspenders, I don’t want to hear grumbling and groaning that your dung bag is falling down.
“Jason, get your Amaretto. It can get cold up there at 28,000... and Slivio P, see that you get some your GEL, there are some nice chicks in Malta.”
Santa looked back as he entered the hut. He smiled and told himself that every great man needs a great woman. The only problem: in his case, he had Rudolph not a woman; and Rudolph was male and an alpha male Reindeer at that.
They left sleighing over the frozen snowfields of Finland and then over the barren frozen Baltic across to the capital of Estonia, Talinn.
In Talinn the grey skies suddenly disappeared. Santa called to Rudolph.
“Rudi, take your Reindeers to the sky, Malta here we come.”
The six Reindeers suddenly raced across the snowfields and then lifted into the air. A flock of Brent Geese feeding on the little grass out of the snow looked up in bewilderment.
Santa waved to them but then turned to Rudolph and shouted.
“Rudi, take your bearings and no mistakes …”
Rudolph nodded and told Santa, “Stop worrying Santa, everything is under control.”
Airborne they trailed over Poland over what used to be Breslau and now is known as Wroclaw. Then they turned South West heading to Prague.
Santa shouted to his Reindeers.
“Look at the city centre, how beautiful!”
Peppi, the Reindeer with the bladder problem, looked round.
“What is beautiful?”
Lou, the Reindeer next to him, nodded his head.
“Peppi, you are so superficial, you have absolutely no interest in culture. Prague is such an interesting city.”
Jason looked ahead and laughed.
“Lou, you love Prague because of all the girls!”
“Qabez hu! Why? Do you like the boys, Jason?”
“U ejja, you cannot even take a joke.”
Rudolph looked stern and simply looked round and showed his disgust at the discussion.
There was a long period of silence as Santa headed towards Austria.
Rudolph swerved his big brownish head towards Santa..
“I am taking a detour and going to a lower altitude to see St Stephen’s Cathedral?”
“Okikoki, but let us not stay too long.”
Santa and the six Reindeers dived to the Square and circled low over the Cathedral. There in the square they saw people waving and little children jumping up and down. Santa could hear the distant applause, he waved back and smiled.
After Austria, Rudolph turned his nose to Italy and Venice.
“It’s cold and windy so brace yourselves for a rough ride.”
Through wind, sleet and snow, Santa roughed it through the icy Adriatic airspace.
The low clouds obliged them to lose altitude, a dangerous decision that increased the chances of collision with a steeple by 58 per cent according to a statistics issued by the ASIE (The Association of Santas in Europe).
All of a sudden, Rudolph cried out: “Steeple ahead, starboard, STARBOARD, STARBOARD, NOW, NOW. The Reindeers and the sleigh literally scrapped by the 43 metre high steeple of San Marco’s Basilica.
Silvio nose turned from Red to brown: “Phew that was close.”
Franco D snarled, “Rudolph, do you know what the f*** you are doing.”
“Okay, if you want to freeze to death we will simply lift this sleigh to a higher altitude.”
Santa was completely oblivious to the ruckus among the Reindeer. He had taken his Baedecker guide to Santa trips. He looked up at San Marco in Venice.
“Listen to this chums, look what the book says about San Marco.”
And he read verbatim from the guide: “The bell tower of San Marco is 43 metres high… ”
“Shut up Santa, X’ala z*****,” Lou retorted.
Rudolph could not believe his ears, he pointed straight into the low clouds. Santa and Reindeers disappeared into the freezing clouds. It took them eight solid Arctic minutes before they lifted out of the clouds into the blue sky and setting sun.
“We are not taking any rest today we have to arrive in Malta before midnight. Santa has to deliver eight presents and all of the prezzies are for some very special people.”
“What about some sleep?” Jason asked.
“Yes, it is not fair, I want to sleep like all the others.” Franco D complained.
“I need a pee, I nedd to pee.” Peppi pleaded.
Rudolph looked round at Santa, but all he could see was a silly smiling face – what a first class imbecile he said to himself.
“Okay, Jason sip some Amarettos and take a small nap. Franco D you can sleep for half an hour. And Peppi, you can break all the ‘Santa when flying’ rules and just pee when airborne. But try and aim in the other direction, the last thing we need is a Santa reeking of Reindeer urine.”
And all the Reindeers laughed their antlers off.
“What are you all laughing about?” Santa queried.
• Hauskaa joulua = Merry Christmas, in Finnish!
Next Sunday, Santa’s distributes his special prezzies!
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