Wendall blinked in horror. What the fuck was that!?

“Er... right. Arms down, please! Thanks. I didn't know you'd all be here to greet me like this. Thank you! It makes me feel so welcome down here. I don't really know what I'm doing here yet, but I promise to try to be the best Santa, and the best boss that you've all ever had.”

There was a rather awkward pause then, and he offered a little wave before moving to walk off the sleigh. The elves burst into a sudden and deafening cheer that seemed to shake the immense room to its foundations.

“He's awesome!"

“I knew this would be the best one yet!"

“I really love his tie!"

He wobbled slightly as he'd been trying to dismount the sleigh with the help of a couple of elves when they'd started cheering. Then he smiled and continued waving and shaking hands as he made his way through the crowd to follow Callie wherever she was going. It was wonderful to hear such a positive response, but once they left the stables things started getting more problematic. They walked up a flight of stairs together to emerge in an enormous workshop. He gawked at the sheer size of the place.

Unfortunately, despite its awe-inspiring scale, the workshop wasn't a pretty sight to behold. In fact it was one of the most depressing places he'd ever seen in his life, and he'd worked in his fair share of depressing places. Everything seemed to be comprised of grey metal and black conveyor belts. Exhausted elves sat at the belts assembling a number of items, none of which appeared to be festive. A few of them looked like they were falling over in their seats and most had a sickly, greyish skin tone. He stopped short when they turned a corner and saw one of them assembling what appeared to be an M-4 assault rifle.

“What in the hell is going on here?"

“We should talk in your office," Callie winced at his tone. "I figured you might get a Little freaked out by all this.”

“Freaked out? That guy looks like he's nearly dead. And is that a fucking sidewinder missile! ?"

“This is a branch of our weapons production platform. I can explain-"

“Nope, no you can't. Oi! You Lot!" As he spoke his voice rang out from every corner of every part of the factory, all of the elves in the workshop stopped and turned to Look at him. A few of them were startled out of their seats and fell from their conveyor positions to land on the floor with a thud before their heads popped up wearily looking for the source of the noise. "I'm your new boss, and until I tell you otherwise you are all officially on vacation. Go get some dinner and then go to bed until you feel better."

There was a long pause after that, and then the weary faces started turning into grateful smiles. Tiredly, they started moving out of a number of doors in the facility to go to bed. When he turned back to

Callie she was crying, although there was a big smile on her quivering lips.

“Who the hell was the last Santa anyway?"

Since most of her kin had filed out of the building, she didn't seem to want to hold back any longer. She continued walking, explaining as he fell into step beside her.

“He was a turn of the 20th century industrialist from America." She sniffled and wiped her eyes. "Can I be honest?"

"Sure."

“Thanks. He was a nasty, tyrannical, dipshit who didn't really Like the idea of magic but saw what he called ‘potential’ in us. Free workers.