Sergeant slipper came wondering out of the pound land crack house and slumped against the wall, his world still spinning. Lucky for him however he still have his trusty hat. A large top hat with its top coming away with the letter S sewn on the front in large, red felt.
”S for slipper!” Sergeant slipper shouted proudly at a passing heard of higher middle class water buffalo out to restock their lake of Evian. Sadly the good sergeant was too far-gone to realise he was deep in squirrel country. Only the hardest of the hard ever dared go into squirrel country (Or a heard of higher middle class water buffalo who are desperate for 45% pure bottled water with a fancy label and fancier price tag). Not even the beige market did business in Fluffy Street

An uneasy breeze started blowing and before he could admire his hat any more a miniature battalion of the pint size ruffian’s came bursting out from all directions. Looking at him with evil intent. The poor Sergeant coward in fear of the grey carriers of Satan’s flu. As one they all extended their index figure, preparing to give him the poking of a life when, from the rooftops and voice boomed out.

“STOP ALL THIS FLUFFY NONSENSE!”

The voice echoed all around the street, bouncing around with such a rage that had never been seen since the pie eating contest of 1812 where mister bun the baker had the rest of his family on tried for baking baguettes instead of pie on account of that only witches can get the two confused. He himself then ran away in a puff of flatulence and pomposity before there was another witches uprising that week.

Everyone looked up to see the outline of a fat, jolly man, wearing a red leotard and frill’s to match and sporting the biggest beard any of them had seen in their short fluffy lives. The beard was so big it was growing out of his ears and nose as well. Even the hair from his head had been plucked from his head to add to the beard’s thickness. Sergeant slipper could do little than stair at the figures still pointing at him. Around this magnificent silhouette lurked 12 shadowed characters, all resplendent with antlers plus accessories.

The leader of the unit 501st of fluff could do little than squeak.
“Oh no, not…” But before captain bingo, red squirrel of ill repute could do anything else, even withdraw his figure from its attack stance a fan fair played by a group of glam rock elves sang out in a slay driven by the third most reckless driver in the city – Rudolf.

“Santa! The greatest hero of them all!
Watch him kick your ass
Watch him bend your bones
Watch him play cricket with your remains with his [note- this is where the break down happens and enters an electric sitar solo] Death metal ninja reindeer of doom!!!!”

The song took a good five minutes to end, in which time Santa wearing his traditional Christmas stockings of ass kickness, His bending bones tinsel girdle and his cricket set made out of the remains of broken toy’s that his nemesis, bugs ‘boxing day’ bunny had thrown at him in their last memorable encounter at Madison Square Gardens. While his reindeer were busy having a small mosh pit to the sitar solo with the rest of the 501st of fluff, all sporting ninja paraphernalia and iron maiden shirts.

After an amazing set by the Eleven Star Troopers Of Lapland in which four lutes were smashed and a bass harp solo in which Sparkle elf lost all his figures to had finished the 501st of fluff couldn’t remember why they were there, bid everyone goodnight and went on their way wearing with pride Eleven Star Troopers of Lapland t-shirts on which Santa was wrestling the Queen of Spain for the 1994 WI world championship belt.
Santa gave his trademark beardy smile and was off with his ninja metal heads and band to fight more crime with amazing lighting effects and great value merchandise.

Sergeant Slipper was left a little dumb struck when the middle higher-class water buffalo found him again.
“Gregory, would you look at that.” Said one especially yuppie like buffalo. “I bet this little rascal hasn’t even got shares in the big city.” There was a small pause.
“Matilda, We don’t have shares in the big city.” The pause was uneasy this time.
“Oh.”
And there was nothing more said until all the Buffalo had gotten back to there separate homes where they all proceeded to bitch and snipe about Matilda and Gregory not having shares in the big city…what ever city this is.