The jolly-less man draped in red velour barely acknowledged his head elf. The shades drawn to block the nearly endless late August sun. Still time to turn things around, but the entire North Pole was falling into disarray - pelleted piles of reindeer droppings in too many corners.
Santa mumbled, “I adjust the filters: 100 miles, 1000 miles, it doesn’t matter.” He tapped the screen, “She’s the only one.”
“We’re a little remote for online dating. What site are you on anyway?”
“Santas only.”