Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,

Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore-

Crap, wrong story.

It was the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a brotato was, something--

Dang I forget the words.

Tyler struggles describing to children what events took place that fateful starry night. No older than ten at the time, and by this time seventy three, the old and delirious man ponders to recollect that olden eve afar.

But I know the story far greater than he, for I was there, that night of Christmas Eve. But no, Santa am not I. For I am no more than three feet high. I am, but, a mere elf, you see.

My name is Shinkerton Pea Wee.

Ok now that that bull crap is out of the way...

Tyler Christie was seven years old the first Christmas he saw Santa Claus.

At one o'clock in the morning, Tyler sat up in his bed. All night, he had struggled to fall asleep, for he buzzed with excitement, eager for Christmas morning. But after finally catching a few winks of sleep, he was rattled awake by the sound of someone at his door.

Though a little jittered, Tyler threw his covers off and jumped out of bed, eager at the thought of who it might be down stairs. He stalked through his room and creaked the door open. Through the dim candle light of the hallway, Tyler tiptoed, and listened, confirming that the source of the thuds and rattles coming from down stairs was from a cherry red and jolly soul.

Yes, Kris Kringle had arrived to the Christie household.

Ready to give up stealth mode, Tyler teetered down the wooded stairs, his heart racing. He swung around on the ball atop the bannister when he reached the bottom of a flight and lunged toward the living room, expecting to see a bright red and white suite placing presents under the tree.

But Tyler stood alone in the family room. The dim golden tree lights flickered and bounced off the cream walls. Lying on the glass coffee table were the ripe carrots Tyler has left for the flying rain deer. But wait...

Where were the cookies for Santa?!

Tyler's hands smeared his face in horror. He had forgotten to lay out the cookies Nanna Janet had made!

Franticly he dashed toward the kitchen to retrieve the chocolate chip cookies. What if Santa had left without leaving presents because Tyler forgot to leave the cookies!

But Tyler screeched to a halt at the kitchen door when he heard the fridge door open from inside.

Was Santa... Trying to find the cookies for himself?

Tyler scrunched his eyebrows as he pushed the door open and entered the kitchen. That's a bit odd for Santa to guess the cookies were in the fridge. They would be as hard as ice if they were. Nanna Janet keeps the cookies in the cookie jar. Why would Santa of all places check the fridge...

Tyler stopped dead in his tracks.

Ten feet away from him was Santa Claus, bright red hat and beard and all. His back was to Tyler, as if he had just finished his rummaging through the fridge and now stood up straight. With one hand, he gripped the top of the open fridge door, and in the other...

Tyler's face reddened. His fists curled at his side.

There before Tyler, in the light of the refrigerator bulb, Santa Claus chugged down the last carton of chocolate milk.

Tyler's entire body shook. His jaw clenched. Steam bursted from his ears.

That was Tyler's chocolate milk.

Tyler swerved around, and shoved the kitchen door open. It hit Tyler on the behind hard on his way out, but he didn't even notice. He marched up the stairs, through the hallway, swung his bedroom door open, and slammed down onto his bed. His fingers curled around the corners of his pillow case as he shoved his face into the pillow, letting the cushion cool his melting face.

He would get Santa for this. He would get him for drinking his chocolate milk, if it was the last thing he'd do.

And so, every Christmas that followed, Tyler would stay up all Christmas Eve, squatting beside the fire place, lying in wait with a bat in hand. Santa would never come, because he knew the naughty child was lying in wait for him. But after the third year, Santa Claus realized Tyler was becoming a problem. Not to Tyler, or Santa Claus himself, but to the rest of Tyler's family. His younger sister and Nanna Janet had been awfully kind the past years, but the two of them had missed their all of their well earned presents for Christmas every year because of Tyler and his plot of revenge toward Santa.

That is why, when Tyler was ten, old Saint Nick brought me along on his sleigh to be the one who made the trip to the Christie household.

But these things don't tend to go as smoothly as planned. Especially if these things involve ten year old demonic children high on Elf Donuts.