Tale of two Nicks

T’was the night before Christmas and all through TwoHoots

Not a creature is stirring. As, sober as newts,

Out lunching and drinking are every staff member

(So ‘business as usual’ since early November).

 

Now, I say no-one stirs but that isn’t quite right:

In one little corner shines one little light

Over one little desk where our heroine, Nicky,

Is charged with a project that’s fiendishly tricky.

 

To be honest, that often was poor Nicky’s prize

At this fund group of an insignificant size.

Since the chairman – her grandfather – knew from the past

That to trust any other was to get nowhere fast.

 

Scene set, then. So Nicky now labours alone

To structure the deal grandpa’s slurred down the phone

Where the firm’s venture capital mob buys henceforth

Some toymaking enterprise, somewhere up north.

 

Private equity? Ugh! Nicky can’t help but shudder.

For that once worthy ship has long since lost its rudder

And instead, moral compass-free, drifts on an ocean

Of cost-cuts and job-cuts, all done sans emotion …

 

Those self-serving but … but a noise stops her short

Of this rather ungenerous, unChristmassy thought.

Still, a strange noise at night isn’t great cause for care

At TwoHoots as it’s always the hamster, Adair,

 

The chairman’s emotional support rodent, who

Is the size of a terrier – possibly two –

And, being a spirit who’ll dance his own tune

Likes to head to the roof and then howl at the moon.

 

Two snags with this thesis – first, tonight is moon-free;

And second, as Nicky can quite plainly see,

Wedged in a filing drawer, rhythmically snoring:

Adair. And that noise isn’t howling – it’s pawing.

 

Nicky heads to the roof and – you’ve probably guessed –

Finds reindeer-powered sleigh and a gentleman dressed

In red-and white-suit, shiny boots, fulsome beard

(So, ‘31 Coke ad’, where this look first appeared).

 

“Hello Santa, I’m Nicky,” says Nicky. “Oh – hey,”

The bearded one answers. “And great name, by the way.

Now, forgive me my haste, but we haven’t much time –

On tonight of all nights – but I must stop a crime.”

 

“A crime?” Nicky whitens. “Well, perhaps that’s too strong,”

Acknowledges Santa. “But we haven’t got long

And I need you to focus: there’s a problem you’ve missed

Which has caused an anomalous ‘Naughty/Nice’ list.

 

“You … mean …?” stutters Nicky. “I certainly do,”

Says the man in the red. “And I do implore you

To listen attentively to all I’ve to say

So peace, love and happiness triumph this day.”

 

“All right,” agrees Nicky, so wise for her years.

“At the risk of presumption, let’s address your fears.

For I’ve only just twigged that this toy-maker goal

Of TwoHoots isn’t so much ‘up north’ as ‘North Pole’.

 

And you’re awfully worried – quite reasonably so –

If the deal goes ahead there’ll be nothing but snow

That remains of the enterprise of Santa Claus

With your workshop closed down and all workings outsourced.”

 

“So swift on the uptake – and just as I’d thought,”

Beams Santa. “I’m grateful my drift you have caught.

Still, to be wholly crystal, it isn’t myself

I’m fretting for here, Nix, but the fate of each elf.

 

They have worked for me tirelessly many a year

But could soon see their jobs, hopes and dreams disappear.

With a few sorry souls sent by some venture-cap tsar

To procurement and finance and – horrors! – HR.

 

You know that the logic won’t be clearly stated

Just savings made thanks to some AI-related

Advancements there’s really no hope of fulfilling.

(‘We tried our best – honest – yet still made a killing!)

 

And then, with my reindeer, they’ll do something stupid:

First, sell off dear Blitzen and Comet and Cupid,

Next, ‘downsize’ poor Vixen and Donner and Prancer

And rebrand the last two as ‘Slasher’ and ‘Chancer’.

 

Since we’re speaking of rebrands, you’d have to expect

Some small way down the line they would look to eject

All things ‘Father Christmas’. If I’m not mistaken

‘Polar Cap’ they would choose – except it’s been taken.

 

True, that wouldn’t happen till with no hint of guilt

They had mortgaged my workshop and home to the hilt

And leveraged all but the Christmas-cake crumbs

Then paid massive dividends to them and their chums.

 

Yet, my dear little Nicky, I hope you can spot

That this nightmare’s poor victims are not just a lot

Of North Pole-based creatures – well, family, really –

And it’s your own future that could dip severely …

 

“Yes, yes,” eyerolls Nicky. “I get your drift, Santa,

And, while you’ve catastrophised, I – at a canter –

Have strived to reverse every part of this deal

I have worked on with tireless, if misguided, zeal.

 

Rest assured, all TwoHoots plans have now been defeated

Every digital scrap of our data deleted;

While the hard-copy contracts now diligently shredded

Will ensure that Adair is now comfortably bedded.

 

So I trust that is all that you need – nothing missed –

To ensure that I’m back on your ‘not-naughty’ list?”

Santa smiles and is gone – with just this heard by Nix:

“Happy Christmas to all – and a great ’26.”