The Sixth Day of Advent - Five Go On A Sleigh Ride and a Little Interactive Competition

Santa gathered up his reindeer and reattached them to the sleigh whilst Mrs Pumphrey, Tango Pete and Harold Angel gathered their bits and pieces from the tandem and the motorbike. 

'Are we all ready?' called Santa, as he fastened Rudolph to the front harness and tweaked his nose so it lit up like an enormous red beacon. 

'Yes, Santa!' said Mrs Pumphrey with somewhat breathy excitement. Tango Pete felt a pang of jealousy twang his heart. Santa was major competition to have in matters of Love. Look at that beard, for example. You could lose a gross of sausage rolls in that beard. He climbed aboard the sleigh and took a seat next to Mrs Pumphrey, tucking a furry tartan blanket snugly around her knees.

'Do you think there might be a marriage in this story?' says Daisy.

'You never know,' says Primrose. 'I suppose it depends on how the story arc develops.'

'Noah is going to be in on this as well?' says Daisy. 'And all his animals, two by two?'

'A story arc,' says Primrose, 'is where the writer develops the plot of what is going to happen.'

'You mean, even Denise doesn't know how this is all going to end yet?' says Daisy.

'Not a clue,' says Primrose. 'Can't you see the glassy-eyed confusion on her face?'

'I thought that was just the gin,' says Daisy. 

'She doesn't drink alcohol,' says Primrose. 'She manages that look without the aid of any intoxication whatsoever.'

'Impressive,' says Daisy.

The sleigh was just about ready for take-off when there came a raucous shouting from The Ding Dong Cafe, and Merrily Onhigh came flapping across the car park in all her goosey glory.

'Can I come, too?' she shouted, launching herself at the side of the sleigh with such force that Mrs Pumphrey was certain it would tip over.

'One more passenger makes no difference to me,' said Santa, taking up the reins and shaking them out. The jingle bells jingled and the reindeer pricked up their ears in anticipation of a launch into the deep blue night sky. 'In fact, the more the merrier!'

'What do you think, Gloria?' said Tango Pete. 'Can this adventure handle another character?'

'Of course!' said Mrs Pumphrey, who, to be honest, was glad of the opportunity to have some female company. 'Hop aboard, Merrily! Hop aboard!'

And so, with everyone safely tucked in and Santa at the helm, the sleigh shot up, up, up into the sky. Calling on his reindeer by name by way of encouragement, Santa's voice carried through the night air as clearly and crisply as a double fried chunky chip. Except for maybe the clear bit. But it was very crisp. (And for  our transatlantic guests, by 'chip' I mean an oblong of fried potato a la 'fish 'n' chips' and not potato chips which we, en Angleterre, call crisps which come in a variety of flavours e.g salt 'n' vinegar, cheese 'n' onion, coconut 'n' anchovy.)

'Hang on a minute,' said Tango Pete, listening to the names of the reindeer. 'That's not the names of the reindeer.'

'I think I ought to know what my reindeer are called,' said Santa, kicking off his boots and pulling on some comfy slippers in the shape of enormous bunny rabbits.

'But in the poem, 'The Night Before Christmas,' they are called Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen, Comet and Cupid and Donder and Blitzen,' said Tango Pete.

Santa laughed. 'And do you believe everything you read in fiction?' he said.

'No, of course not!' said Tango Pete, blushing a little because he did not like to admit that once he had visited London with the specific purpose of going to 221B, Baker Street to find Sherlock Holmes. And when he had arrived at Baker Street all he found was a man named Bob playing a saxophone.

'Well, my reindeer, as you have now discovered, are called totally different names,' said Santa. 'Lebkuchen, anyone?'

(Cue Daisy Hen appearing stage right dressed in a sparkly leotard and enormous diamanté headdress.)

'Competition Time!' says Daisy.

'Tell everyone the competition with the prize of a lifetime!' says Primrose.

'I shall!' says Daisy. And she takes a small trumpet from her leotard pocket and blows a little fanfare. 'This amazing competition is open to residents of Much Malarkey Manor. What do YOU think are the real names of Santa's reindeer? The most original response in our comments box will win...'

'Wait for it, wait for it,' says Primrose, in an attempt to build up a bit of Christmas tension.

'...an Advent Story Post starring themselves, where we shall come and visit you and bring a spot of Christmas cheer!'

'So come on, folks,' says Primrose. 'Get your suggestions in before the end of the weekend and you could star in a mini-storyette of your very own!'

'I can feel the excitement from here,' says Daisy.

'Me, too,' says Primrose. 'It's either that, or wind.'

The sleigh flew higher and higher, so high in fact that Harold Angel feared he might get an altitude-related nose bleed. But he was distracted by Santa's Lebkuchen, and Mrs Pumphrey and Merrily singing Christmas songs and Tango Pete doing a very clever party trick with a walnut and a Pom Pom hat.

And so they travelled on into the night...