[ WP ] He sees you when you 're sleeping . He knows when you 're awake . And Santa , low on funds to pay his elves , has begun selling his surveillance data to the NSA .

The room glowed slightly from all the screens. Hundreds and hundreds of screens, some small, some bigger than others across every available wall surface. Apart from the light from the screens, it was dark. Electricity is expensive after all when reindeer power the generator. 
 
 In the midst of the screens was a chair and a small desk, empty except for three telephones. In the chair sat a visibly disheveled man. Watching, always watching the thousands and thousands of screens. 
 
 The man could n't remember the last time he had slept. Ever since selling this mainframe to the US government he had been required to monitor it constantly. This was not the issue though, because he had monitored it since the beginning of time. The issue was that they demanded to know things they should n't. It taxed the old man. He was the keeper of secrets, the decider of good and bad. Not them. Not them. 
 
 What the NSA did n't know was that the old man had made similar sales to other customers, each believing that they alone had purchased this amazing technology. The Chinese had bought his services first, then the Russians. It was n't until trade deals began being sabotaged and national secrets began leaking that the Americans had finally made the purchase. Because the old man was the only one who could operate this system, each had no reason to believe that any other nation had access. 
 
 A phone rang, and the old man answered. A look of concern flashed across his face before he slammed the phone down and looked at the floor. 
 
 Who were they to ask such a thing? 
 
 The old man thought for a moment, breaking from watching the screens for what seemed the first time in a thousand years. Then he had an idea. he picked up the phone that had just rung, and without hesitation said the only words that maybe, just maybe, would end his torment. 
 
'The Russians are launching their nukes.'' 
 
 Then he had similar conversations with the other two phones. 
 
 The old man smiled. An enormous weight lifted from his shoulders. Across the globe chaos and death would be unfolding in the next few seconds. He leaned back in his chair and muttered to himself: 
 
 `` Christmas is cancelled this year.''
