Dead Jolly

The holidays are here, and I’m up to my eyeballs in Christmas spirit—or should I say “spirits”. Life is like that now that I’m a grim reaper. My holidays gets an extra helping of festive weirdness when the Casanova of mall Santas kicks the bucket. Instead of crossing over, he sets out to spread his own special brand of Christmas magic to a number of single ladies in town. I’ll admit, as a widow I’m hesitant to stop him from gifting his Christmas miracle, but as a reaper, it’s my job to pack his yule log and jingle bells off to the netherworld. After all, everybody knows Santa is only supposed to come once a year.