[ WP ] A budding young sociopath sits on Santa 's lap .

`` I want the list,'' the kid said simply. 
 
 I checked my watch. 5:18. And there was still a long line of stupid kids to get through. 
 
 `` What do you mean, the list?'' I asked as politely as I could. The mall manager said that every kid needed to say the name of a fucking toy, so that their parents could head to the toy store and buy their crap. 
 
 `` The naughty and nice list, of course.'' 
 
 `` Oooh,'' I chuckled, shaking my fake belly for effect. `` Well, the naughty and nice list is for Santa only! But you do n't need to worry about which list you are on. Now, what toy would you want for Christmas?'' 
 
 *Come on, stupid kid. Just say a racecar and then I can get the next brat up here. * 
 
 `` I do n't want a toy. I want the list. I want to know who has been naughty so that they can be punished. And I want to know who is good so that I can act like them. Bring me *the list*.'' His voice became emphatic, angry and bone-chilling. 
 
 He looked at me with the coldest stare I'd ever seen. Like I was an insect, and he was a kid with a magnifying glass. Shivers went down my spine. 
 
 `` Act like them?'' I asked without even thinking. Without even questioning whether I'd want to know the answer. 
 
 `` Yes. To fit in. So that my mother wo n't know who is punishing all the kids on the naughty list. And then *I* will be one of the good children.'' 
 
 `` Listen, kid.'' Even I could hear a bit of panic in my voice. `` Just tell me what toy you want, and we'll take a picture together.'' 
 
 `` I wo n't be able to tell who is naughty and who is nice without the list,'' he continued, ignoring me. I gestured to one of my elves: *get this kid off of me*. `` If I ca n't tell who is bad, then I'll just have to punish all of them.'' He was talking to himself now, forgetting that I was even there. 
 
 The cameraman waved, trying to get the boy's attention. Every kid gets a picture with Santa. The boy turned, and the cold, lifeless stare evaporated. His eyes crinkled and his cheeks dimpled adorably. There was a bright flash, and he turned back. The smile was gone; the blank slate was back. Eyes like a shark's. `` The other kids smiled like that,'' he said, just before being lifted off my lap. He slid down the slide and grasped his mother's hand, reverting back to an ordinary kid. Not the cold blooded monster who had demanded to know who was naughty and who was nice. 
 
 As a little girl bounded up the stairs and jumped into my lap, his chilling voice still echoed through my mind: `` Bring me the list.''
