You 've just killed Santa in your living room mistaking him for a burglar . Any moment your wife and three kids are going to wake up and come down stairs for Christmas [ WP ]

`` Oh crap...'' 
 
 That was my reaction as I observed the person in front of me. The Jolly Old Man himself. Santa. And I had just put two shotgun shells through his bearded face. This was it. I was the ultimate arsehole. I had ruined Christmas forever. Even worse, my wife was gon na kill me for traumatising our kids. 
 
 I had to get rid of him somehow. But where? Suddenly an idea popped up in my head and I smiled. I leaned the double barrel against sofa. It was good there was a local hunting area nearby, they probably thought it was just some drunken huntsman. I grabbed hold of Santa's arms and started dragging him out of living room and out of the house. 
 
 Going out into the garden, my bare feet crunched against the snow. Normally this would be agony but I was more preoccupied with making sure my kids did n't wake up to see Santa with his brains leaking onto the carpet. Pulling the body down to the end of the garden I noticed that blood was staining the pure white snow. It would I have to deal with that later. I finally made it to my destination, the shed. 
 
 Unbolting it, I opened it up and let the rising winter sun illuminate the inside. Pushing Santa inside, I made sure to put the body behind several old potato sacks. Hopefully if the kids came poking around, they would n't notice. I walked back outside, locking the shed behind me, and went to go back inside. But before I could I heard a snuffing sound from above me. Looking up onto the roof, I gaped at what I saw. A red and gold slay with a group of reindeer strapped to it. How the hell was I going to deal with that? 
 
 I was forced to beat the reindeer unconscious with my prized cricket bat. I then heaped onto the slay before pushing it off the roof into the back garden. I was red in the face and sweating a river by this time and after checking my watch I saw it was nearly half-past seven. The kids and missus usually have a lie in until ten-to-eight on Christmas. This was good, I still had time. I then pushed the sleigh into the shed and covered it with a tarp. I tried to ignore the blood from Rudoolph was starting to seep through it already. 
 
 Thoroughly exhausted and still numb from the fact that I had killed someone, I headed inside to wash the blood and bits of grey matter that were Old Nicks brains off of my pajamas. Hopefully, I could dump the bodies and the sleigh in the forest. What was going to happen next Christmas, I would cross that bridge when I came to it.
