Sighing, he fills the rest of his sack with presents. Others would think that his job is fun, amazing even, but after a while it gets quite boring, even though this is only he only has to work one day a year, and it's only his third year on the job. He carelessly flings his sack over his shoulder, and heaves himself towards the sleigh.
After setting the sack of gifts into the back of the sleigh, he basically throws himself onto the seat, eager to get this year over and done with. For a moment, he stares ahead, past the reindeers, colourful lights and cheering elves, into the snowy horizon, hoping that maybe this year would be different.
He shakes his head, waking himself up from his train of thoughts and then faces reality.
"Prancer, Dancer, Donner, Blitzen," Santa shouts, alerting the reindeers.
"Dasher, Vixen, Commet, Cupid, Rudolph!"
In a way, the reindeers are like dogs, excitedly awaiting a three hundred and sixty four day late walk.
The reindeers get ready for take off, impatiently stamping their oversized hooves on the snow covered ground. Santa fakes a smile and enthusiastically waves goodbye to the cheering elves surrounding him.
"Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!" He yells into the night. Every year he absolutely dreads this moment, as he finds it embarrassing for some reason.
As the routine is almost exactly the same each year, the reindeers already know what to do. They start trotting, and eventually break into a gallop, and one by one, leave the ground. Santa has always disliked this part because he doesn't exactly like the sound of his sleigh smashing into the heads of the stupid elves who decided that standing just in front of where the sleigh takes off is a good idea.
The day after Christmas he spends hours just trying to get the blood off. It's not fun and Father Christmas has quite a weak stomach.
They are now completely in the air, speeding past his strangely happy slaves.
Other then the slight jingle of the bells, all Father Christmas could hear was the freezing wind whip across his cold face as the reindeers fly gracefully through the clouds.
To show off, the reindeers dramatically fly in front of the moon. Of course, one of the reindeers (damn you, Donner) slips and the sleigh tips, almost sending the sack tumbling off the side, but luckily, it gets caught on one of the bells dangling on the side of the sleigh.
Santa could hear the elves screaming in terror, so he heroically stands up, not confident at all, clings to the edges of the sleigh for dear life, and slowly makes his way over to the sack. He carefully reaches over the edge of the sleigh towards the sack, and manages to get ahold of the soft red fabric.
He tugs with all of his might, but it still does not come loose. He takes his other hand off the edge of the sleigh and grabs the sack with it instead, and pulls as hard as he can.
After a few seconds, whatever was attaching the bell to the sleigh fell off, and the sack came flying towards Father Christmas, almost knocking him off the sleigh and causing him fall to his death.
Santa lets out a breath he had not know he had been holding in, and puts the sack back into its rightful place. He then basically crawls back to his seat on the sleigh.
He stares downwards at the twinkling cities below him, questioning the meaning of life and what-
"Now really is not the time for a existential crisis." Father Christmas mentally yells at himself.
