Great, thanks!
Here's a snippet from the first posting, in case anyone needs a taste before heading over to my blog:
Santa sighed deeply as he strode into his office, lowering himself slowly into his elf-leather chair. He leaned his head back for a few moments and closed his eyes, watching the colored spots swim in the blackness and praying that the worst of his hangover would pass quickly. This was going to be a very long day.
He rubbed his red eyes and yawned, then fumbled after the flask of eggnog he had hidden in his red fur suit. He took a swig and slowly let his eyes focus on the clutter on his desk, locating his calendar. There was only one appointment for the day, circled in red:
Frost
2:30
He glanced at his watch: eleven-fifteen. So he still had some time to flesh out the details of his pitch. Jack, my friend, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news. He practiced saying it: “Jack, my friend, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.” There had to be real regret in his voice, real pain on his face. He tilted up the blank flat-screen monitor and watched his reflection in it. He tried again: “Jack, my friend, I’m afraid I’ve got some bad news.” It didn’t look convincing.
Well, he still had a few hours to practice.