No limits. He called making people buy their own presents for each other privatizing the grunt work. Then he set up a few companies and started importing from the workshops and making a huge profit off the merchandise. We're magic workers, Wendall. We can make anything, and we can improve it too. He made a fortune, and sold Christmas away by turning it into a damned trade fair reliant on greed rather than need or hope. He even took away the memory of how it used to be, so people wouldn't want it back how it was. They'd just think we were a fairy story."

"Shit. That sounds awful. I'm sorry."

She sniffed again, then took a large handkerchief out of a pocket in her smock and loudly blew her nose.

“Ok, so what was with the scary-ass salute back there?"

"Ugh, believe me, you don't want to know."

“Jeez. So for the past century Santa Claus has been a fascistic, heartless capitalist?"

She nodded. "Yeah, and kind of a sex maniac."

“Huh?

“Well..." she was evidently trying to go about explaining the matter as delicately as possible.

“See, before he came along most other Santas would either already have a wife or pick one of us after a while and she'd be Mrs. Claus and that would be that. Any time Santa got frisky, it was Mrs. Claus's job to see to it. Except our last Santa didn't really accept that, and took a Liking to more than one of us. He didn't need to do much any more what with the deliveries not needing to be made every year. So his office and residence kind of turned into a giant non-stop Santa-Elf orgy. I guess that's what Victorian sexual repression gets ya."

“Ok, now you're just fucking with me."

“Heh, well..." She scratched the back of her head and suddenly got very fidgety.

“You were in Santa’s orgy, weren't you?"

“Yeah. I know it probably sounds weird, but I was really lucky. The ones that work out here? You've seen them. It's not exactly the holiday ideal, is it? Then there's the ones you met out in the hall. They're the most photogenic ones he kept apart for PR purposes, and the most beautiful of those he kept for himself.”

“Damn, that sounds horrible."

“It's actually not so bad going day to day. I mean, I'd rather have

Christmas back to the way it was, but I usually spent most of my days with other elves gettin’ our pointy-eared freak on. Old Santa wasn't into the guys, but he Liked watching them with us."

“Wait, what do you mean PR purposes? I'm pretty sure if there'd have been an Elf cover shoot in Vogue magazine it'd have made the news."

She smiled and gently nudged him with her elbow.

“Nah, it's like for keeping just enough Christmas spirit out there so that he could keep doing what he was doing without everyone realising he was completely fucking pointless. Crimeny, I'm sorry! I pull you out here saying you get to be Santa and then drop all this on you. I'm so very sorry, Wendall. I'm a horrible elf. I just had to get you out here. You seemed so nice, and the next in Line was probably going to be just as horrible as the Last one."