PIP/Santa/Preparing for a Funeral

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Santa quickly returned the Eye of Odin to the Oculus, then made his way to his private quarters. It was his first time to enter them in his current incarnation. He entered his workshop, Penny close behind him, and walked across the floor. Here thousands of elves sat at hexagonal tables in groups of six, pulling raw Christmas Faith and Good Will from portals hovering above the tables, and weaving the magic, as a team, into gifts to give to the nice little girls and boys of the world. Santa knew that the manner of giving the children their gifts was different depending on the incarnation of Christmas that was active. The former Santa delivered them with a kiss on the forehead. Two Santas ago, he had given the children their gifts by giving the children oral sex. The Santa before that gave gifts through head rubs. He wondered, for a moment, what his gift-giving act might be. He would know by Christmas, he supposed. He reached the back of the Workshop, and climbed seven flights of stairs to finally get to his personal quarters.


He knew exactly what to expect as he entered the suite of rooms that he was to live in throughout the coming centuries, even though he had technically never been there. He knew going in that the decor was a bit too rustic for his taste, and that he would definitely want to modernize. He looked through the clothing options that he had available to him. Dressing as Santa at his own funeral would be a bit gauche. Unfortunately everything was rather dated, and there wasn't a very good selection of black clothing.


"Damn," he said as he put his hands on his hips.


"Can't find anything to wear?" asked Penny.


"This stuff is all so dated," he replied, "and there isn't a lot of suits appropriate for a funeral."


"Isn't Giorgio Armani that kid you gifted with style just before he stopped believing in you?" asked Penny.


"Oh yeah," said Santa. "I forgot I can do that . . . or actually have that done. Have one of the elves borrow that gift and make me a suit. I'm going to cease to exist soon for the next two days. That should be enough time, don't you think?"


"I don't think it will be a problem, Big Guy," said Penny with a wink. "I'll take care of it myself."


"Just keep in mind that my tastes have changed," said Santa. "I like-"


Penny suddenly disappeared from where she was standing, only to reappear about three feet away holding a black suit.


"...a more modern aesthetic," he finished. "Damn, mid-sentence even."


"Welcome back, Santa," said Penny. "Good thing I knew what you were going to say."


"Really?" asked Santa.


"Well, not word for word, but I try to get a feel for a new Santa as quickly as I can. One thing they all have in common is the thought that the old Santa was behind the times. Generation gaps within yourself is pretty standard Santa fare."


"So I'm going to get stuck in my ways and fall behind the times?" asked Santa as he took the finely tailored suit from Penny. Without an ounce of embarrassment, he started to change in front of the tiny elf.


"I...umm," said Penny, as she eyes his muscular physique. "I hope not. I mean you guys usually start out changing with the times okay. It just gets to the point eventually that too much change is required. You start getting nostalgic for the old days and your style gets kind of dated."


Santa continued dressing as he talked. "Maybe I'll fair a bit better than my predecessors there. I have a bit of a muted sense of nostalgia. I never really got the whole longing for the things of the past when the future has so much more to long for."


"Maybe you'll break the mold then, Santa. Looking good!"


"It's a perfect fit," said Santa. "It feels tailored; but I wasn't around to tailor it to me."


"I know your shape by heart, Santa," said Penny coyly.


"Ho ho ho ho," Santa laughed. "We'll have to explore that knowledge later. For now, I have a funeral to attend."


"Should I get dressed?" asked Penny.


"I think I should handle this one alone," said Santa as he held a patch up to his eye, then moved it away. "What do you think; eye patch or glass eye. The patch covers more of the scar, but the eye draws less attention."


"I'll always go with the eye patch myself," said Penny. "But I've got a bit of a pirate fetish. Books and movies over the last few centuries have painted eye patches with a darker side. This is ingrained into modern culture to the extent that people make assumptions based on them without even knowing that they are doing so. The same goes for scars though."


"Six of one," said Santa, "a half-dozen of another. I'll wear the patch. I think it makes me look more sophisticated and mysterious."


"You always look sophisticated and mysterious," said Penny.


"I am so going to plow you later," said Santa.


"And there went sophisticated," said Penny with a laugh. "But what a way to go."


"I'd better get going, or it isn't going to wait for later," said Santa. "And I really need to set things right with my family. Maybe even bring them up here to live...if they want to."


"Get going then," said Penny. "Don't blame me when you're waiting forever for the funeral to start. It's only a bit after midnight, Greenwich Mean Time."


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