Sub-Santa

’Twas six months after Christmas,

And all ’round the pole,

Not an elf was still working—

Not one tiny soul!

The spring had passed by

And the summer was here,

The laziest time in

The whole Christmas year!

There were elves still in bed

At a quarter to one,

Even though next year’s presents

Were barely begun.

And where was dear Santa?

Why, far from his station!

Away with his wife

For their yearly vacation.

They spent all last June

In the rich Scottish highland.

This year it’s Jamaica

And then Easter Island.

But just to make sure

That some work still got done,

Santa sent a replacement

To watch everyone.

To achieve next year’s deadline,

The work could not pause,

So he called upon Stanley—

The Substitute Claus!

Stanley Sherman woke up

When his phone rang at four.

He took down the address

And he shot out the door.

Barely time to get clothing on!

No time for showers!

The trip up to Santa’s

Was over ten hours!

At last he arrived,

Wiped his feet on the mat,

Then he saw the two doors

Labeled “This Way” and “That.”

He thought for a moment,

Then opened “This Way.”

He walked in on a workshop

In pure disarray!

There were bears half unstuffed,

Broken trains on the floor,

Baby dolls that say “Moo!”

Rubber duckies that roar!

There were donuts and nachos

That flew through the air,

And the sounds of elf-mischief

From every-which-where!

Stanley took a long look

At the chaos around,

Then he lifted his jaw

Back up off of the ground.

He walked into the workshop,

More noisy than ever,

And placed his left hand

On the Main Power Lever.

A tug on the switch

And the workshop shut down,

And then all became quiet

In toy-making town.

And the elves all came out

To see what was the matter.

They gathered ’round Stanley

And stopped all their chatter.

“Good morning,” said Stan

In his best “Santa” way.

“My name’s Mister Sherman—

I’m Santa today.”

Well the elves remained silent

For one moment after,

Then doubled right over

In elf-quaking laughter!

“You’re Santa?!” they called,

“That’s a good one there, bub!

Why you’re even more scrawny

Than last summer’s sub!”

“And what kind of Claus

Wears a pressed shirt and tie?

Santa’s workshop’s no place

For a nine-to-five guy!”

And with that, all the elves

Began running away,

Off to wrestle and food-fight

And tumble and play.

“Now hold on!” called Stan Sherman

To get their attention.

“There’s one little thing

I neglected to mention!”

“I may not be jolly,

I may not be fat.

I may not be Santa,

But I’ve got his hat!”

And with that, Stanley Sherman

Produced from his case

A red velvety hat

That fell low on his face.

And although he looked dumber

Than he had expected,

The hat was one thing

That the elves all respected.

They snapped to attention,

Stood straight as the Pole,

And they gave the right names

When Stan called the elf-roll.

Then they got to their stations

And started their work,

And not one made Stan Sherman

Turn into a jerk!

They made trains, they made games,

They made dragons and dollies,

Key-lime candy canes,

Even pancake-sized lollies!

No time did they waste!

Not a detail they missed!

And not one elf was put

On the sub’s “Naughty List.”

And by late afternoon,

Things were going so well

That Stan Sherman sent Santa

A text from his cell.

“Mr. Claus,” Stanley texted,

“How is Easter I.?”

“O, it’s gr8, LOL,”

Came dear Santa’s reply.

Then the next one from Santa

Sent shivers through Stan:

“Did U have any probs

With the day’s lesson plan?”

Stanley froze, and his color

Drained out with his hope.

And he texted a

Half-true, one-word answer: “Nope!”

“O, that’s good,” Santa wrote,

“Just some work 4 the elves

To make sure they’re on-track

And behaving themselves!”

And with that, Santa signed off—

A quick “CU L8R”—

And Stan began panicking

Greater and greater!

How was he to know

That the boss left a lesson?

He’d set the elves working

By hopin’ and guessin’!

But now, it appeared

That a mystery plan

Had been hidden somewhere

By the jolly fat man.

And if Stan could not find it,

His plans would be foiled!

Oh, he had to look fast

Before Christmas was spoiled!

So he left all the elves

Working diligently

While he ransacked the workshop

As quick as could be.

He found books, he found toys,

He found mountains of sweets,

He found teddy bear blankets

And cute bunny sheets.

He found note cards and markers,

A grocery list,

But not one single sign

Of the plans he had missed.

Then he had an odd thought

And adjusted his hat,

And went back to the front

To the door labeled “That.”

And he peered through the glass

In the frost-biting air

’Til his eyes could make out

A small desk with a chair.

And he saw, on this desk,

As the wind whipped him colder,

A small set of keys

And a candy-striped folder.

“Of course! Santa’s office!”

Thought Stan in his glee!

“And those must be the plans

Santa mentioned to me!”

So he rolled up his sleeve,

And he flexed out his wrist,

And he reached for the knob,

And he gave it a twist.

But the door would not budge,

Despite all of his might.

And the keys were inside—

It was locked good and tight!

And so Stanley returned

To the workshop once more,

And he walked to the corner

And slumped to the floor.

“Mr. Sherman, what’s wrong?”

Asked the chief little elf.

And he had to be honest,

In spite of himself.

So he told them the tale

Of the folder and keys,

And they laughed, doubled-over

And clutching their knees.

“Man oh man,” they guffawed,

“Oh, you’re in for it now!

When old Santa comes back,

You’ll be fired! And how!”

Now this wasn’t Stan’s fault,

As I’m sure you’re aware,

But when bosses get angry,

Life’s not always fair.

So Stan thought and he thought

As he bubbled inside.

Oh there must be an answer!

He must save his hide!

Yes he thought and he thought

’Til his thinker was bent.

Then his eyes fell upon it—

A small dusty vent!

Then he looked at the elves,

And they shouted, “No Way!”

But Stan straightened his hat—

HE was Santa today!

Then the elves rolled their eyes,

And a few of them sighed.

But the hat was in charge,

And it can’t be defied!

So at last they stacked up,

Over twenty elves tall,

And they opened the vent

On the far workshop wall.

Then the littlest elf

Climbed up over the gang,

And away through the duct work

He crawled with a clang.

Oh he thudded and crashed

As he crawled through the walls.

Yes he jingled the bells,

And he decked all the halls!

But at last he returned

From the office as planned,

And he held out a folder

In each tiny hand.

Stanley stared at the folders

In anticipation,

Then chose “Lesson Plans”

Over “World Domination.”

He sighed with relief

As he read through the file.

There were plans and instructions

For quite a long while!

He’d been on the right track—

They should keep making toys.

Then go over the list

Of the good girls and boys.

They should also, Stan noticed,

Plan orientation

For all the mall Santas

Throughout every nation.

To top it all off,

They should build a huge bear

With a laser-beam hat

And with cheese puffs for hair.

(“Yes, it’s weird,” Santa wrote,

“But Lucille made it clear—

It’s the one thing she wants,

And she’s been good all year!)

Stanley made some quick notes,

Then turned back to the crew,

And assigned the right projects

For each elf to do.

Then he thanked all the elves

For their true dedication.

They’d salvaged his job

And old Santa’s vacation!

And so Stanley Sherman

Kept Christmas on-track,

And they all kept on working

’Til Santa came back.

So if you have a choice

Between “This Way” and “That,”

Just be sure of yourself,

And hold on to your hat!