[ TT ] You have just caught someone climbing through your bedroom window and laid them out cold with the nearest heavy object ... Except it was n't a prowler , it was Father Christmas . Now what ?

*Oh man, oh man* Rick thought to himself. 
 
 “ What the hell were you doing crawling through my bedroom window? ” he asked the dumb, entirely relaxed face of Santa to no response. 
 
 Rick stood up from the crouch he had over the mass of Father Christmas on the floor. He took one more mystified glance at the legend he had knocked out cold. The adrenaline-filled action replayed in his head while he made his way to the bedroom door and out into the hallway. 
 
 “ Jane? ” he whispered and scanned around. “ Jane? ” he whispered again into the living room that appeared empty. 
 
 “ Yeah, he knocked the intruder out with a baseball bat, ” Rick heard Jane say in a hushed tone in the kitchen before he scurried to her. “ Our address? ” 
 
 Rick found her leaning on the counter with a cell phone to her ear. He shook his head left and right and waved his hands over each other. Jane hung up the phone and gave Rick a questioning look. “ Come here, ” Rick said to Jane and they made their way to their bedroom. 
 
 “ What fresh hell is this? ” Jane asked Rick. “ You knocked out Santa Claus, Rick? ” She bent down and navigated the neck fat with her small fingers to find a pulse. “ Well, you didn ’ t kill him, ” she muttered and looked at Rick somewhat coldly. 
 
 “ That would have been a real bummer, ” Rick informed Jane. 
 
 They both sat on the bed and tried to absorb the situation by staring at the red mass on the floor. Moonlight shined beautifully on the robe wrapped around the unconscious man. 
 
 “ He ’ s bleeding on the floor, ” Jane whispered. 
 
 “ I ’ ll get some rags or something, ” Rick responded and left the room. 
 
 Jane remained on the bed assessing the situation and admiring the ridiculous thing before her. After a moment, she became aware of the cold air flowing through the open window and decided to stand up and shut it. 
 
 “ When I was small I believed in Santa Claus, ” St. Nick mumbled from below, “ though I knew it was my dad. ” 
 
 Jane looked down to the man in astonishment. 
 
 “ And I would hang up my stocking at Christmas, ” St. Nick paused and swallowed, “ open my presents and I'd be glad. ” 
 
 Rick returned, “ I wasn ’ t sure what to use. I grabbed some of the junk rags from under the sink. They ’ re clean, right? ” 
 
 “ Yeah, sure, ” Jane responded. “ He was just mumbling. ” 
 
 “ He was mumbling? I guess that ’ s a good sign or something, isn ’ t it? ” Rick asked as he wedged a rag between the limp head and the hardwood floor 
 
 “ I-I think. It was The Kinks. He was mumbling the words to ‘ Father Christmas ’ by The Kinks. ” 
 
 “ But the last time I played Father Christmas, ” St. Nick started again. “ I stood outside a department store. ” 
 
 “ No way, ” Rick said in disbelief. 
 
 “ A gang of kids came over and mugged me, ” St. Nick recited tonelessly. 
 
 “ And knocked my reindeer to the floor, ” Rick synchronized with the strange man. 
 
 Unenthused, Jane expressed her disapproval to Rick with an emotionless glance. The man on the floor opened his eyes slightly. “ What fresh hell is this? ” he asked the two hazy figures sitting above him. 
 
 “ Eh, sorry, ” Rick responded. “ When I saw something making a ruckus in the window, I rolled out of bed and sprinted to the closet to grab the baseball bat wrapped up in shiny red paper on the floor over there. It ’ s a Christmas gift for my son. ” 
 
 St. Nick slid around and sat with his back against the wall beneath the window. He grabbed the bloody rag from the floor and brought it up to his head where Rick had connected with the bat. “ You got him a bat? I got him a bat. What else did you get him? ” 
 
 “ Let me grab the list, ” Jane said and made her way over to a nightstand next to the bed. She opened a drawer and removed a piece of paper and handed it to St. Nick. “ We got him the stuff with check marks next to them. ” 
 
 “ Well, I ’ ll be damned, ” St. Nick said dejectedly while he scanned the list. 
 
 “ I take it there ’ s some overlap? ” Jane asked. 
 
 “ You know you ’ re supposed to contact me so this doesn ’ t happen, ” 
 
 “ Rick, I thought you sent an email, ” Jane accused. 
 
 “ I sent a Facebook message, ” Rick said defensively. 
 
 “ I never go on there anymore, ” St. Nick said and sighed. “ We got him all the same things. ” 
 
 “ I guess we can swap some ‘ To and From ’ tags. We can go fifty-fifty. ” 
 
 “ I think, since you clocked me with a bat, all of the gifts should be from me, ” St. Nick said and tilted his head back to rest it on the wall. 
 
 “ We ’ ll look like total jerks! ” Rick argued. 
 
 “ Well, you, Rick, *are* a jerk, ” Santa said and rested his eyes shut. “ If we go fifty-fifty, we ’ ll all seem like incompetent gift givers. I can ’ t put my reputation on the line like that, Rick. Kids talk, and if word gets out- ” 
 
 “ If we ’ re going all or nothing, the gifts are coming from us, ” Rick interjected and pointed his first finger back and forth between him and his wife sitting next to him. 
 
 “ We ’ ll just tell Tommy you don ’ t exist, ” Jane whispered sharply. 
 
 A startling “ Achoo! ” sounded from the doorway. 
 
 Jane and Rick turned to look behind themselves at the doorway. St. Nick leaned to look past the edge of the bed at the doorway. 
 
 “ Santa? ” Tommy inquired confusedly while he wiped his nose with the sleeve of his pajama top. 

