Fauxhasset Paroder, 17th Edition: a Tale of Two Santas 

By Thamanda Crompson
Fauxhasset Paroder Staff Reporter

Night video shot on iPhone 7 by Rookie Ranger Devan Branch, part-time Jedi. Photo credit

’Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the Town, many creatures were stirring of little renown. But we won’t talk about them. Meanwhile, in the bright, twinkling lights of the harbor, many creatures were also stirring, many of them of great renown.

There was Town Manager Mown Tanager, Police Chief Stephen Quill, Deacon Mooney of the last remaining Christian Church in Fauxhasset, Ben Bentley (the richest man in town), Stuart Semple (inventor of the world’s glitteriest glitter), and Ord Girdlehyde, owner of Ye Olde Pepper Mill, Pacifica, the Mad Elephant Hotel, and basically the entire harbor – he’s kind of a big deal.

Governor Barley Chaker and Mayor of Fauxston Warty Malsh also made appearances.

The event was so popular that there was no parking to be found, even in the most distant corners of the satellite lot (which, contrary to popular belief, is normally reserved for employees, not for visiting spacecraft).

A light mist was falling, but with the help of the congress of ghosts under the Town’s employ since Halloween, it was readily turned into a very localized snow flurry.

The Steer Mill School band performed a Christmas medley, and considering that no one ever taught them how to play those clarinets and violins, they did a darn good job.

The divided lower elementary school also performed, but since the girls and boys couldn’t agree on which carols to sing, no one was sure when to join in, when to applaud, or even when the concert was over. We’re pretty sure most of the girls were just singing “Let it Go” from Frozen over and over.

The middle-high school is, of course, still in lockdown, awaiting a response from President-Elect Tom Brady. This holiday season, let us all be thankful for the organic, perpetual growth garden in the high school courtyard, without which most of our children would probably be dead by now.

After the student performances, it was time for Santa to arrive and lead the traditional Christmas Eve parade through the village. Suddenly the harbor waters were a-twinkle with hundreds of little white lights, fixed to the tips of dozens of reinduck antlers.

The reinducks were genetically engineered just this week by the Local Animal Whisperer (LAW) using DNA from one of the hundred-antlered deer that have been terrorizing motorists throughout Fauxhasset this month. A very fine job, MR. LAW.

Soon Santa would arrive on his duck boat, which the Town rented from the City of Fauxston after the forefathers told Town officials earlier this week that Santa should not arrive by land or by sea this year, but by land and sea.

“The forefathers have never steered us wrong,” Mevin Kirk, Chair-Chosen of the Assembly of Chosen, previously told the Paroder. “We asked them to knock once if Santa should arrive by land, and twice if by sea. They knocked three times, so I think the answer is pretty clear: it’s both.”

Yet as the duck boat came into view, something else began to happen: a bright white light appeared in the sky, directly over the harbor, and hovered there, glinting off the waves with blinding brightness.

“Santa’s coming on a sleigh after all!” guessed the children.

“It’s the Star of Bethlehem!” guessed Mooney.

“The Sith have found me!” shouted Devan Branch, Radiation State Park Rookie Ranger and part-time Jedi.

They were all wrong. It was a flying saucer, and as the townsfolk watched, it smoothly parked itself in the middle of the harbor, right alongside Santa’s duck boat. The man in red climbed to the upper level of the duck boat for a better view. A hatch in the saucer slid neatly open, and out stepped…

Another man in red.

His outfit matched Santa’s perfectly. So did his height and stature. Our photographer zoomed in and confirmed that the men were, in fact, identical.

The man from the saucer gave a jolly wave and said, with an accent no one could place, “Sorry, folks – the satellite lot was full!”

Officials tried to get to the bottom of things. “We already have a Santa,” blustered the Town Manager. “You must be in the wrong harbor.”

“This is Fauxhasset,” said the stranger with the accent. “The most perfect place in the universe. I have made no error. I have come to live here, with you, in this most perfect locale. I am… how you say?… ϨΔиϮα.”

“No, I’m Santa!” objected the Santa on the duck boat (whom locals know is actually Bob Diggins – but don’t tell the children). “Look, I’ve got the bag of presents and the reind— uh, the reinducks.”

Police then stepped in to settle the dispute. ϨΔиϮα was asked to relocate his spacecraft to a lot behind the police station until a more permanent parking solution could be found.

Meanwhile, Diggins rode his duck boat into town and led the largest (and most uneasy) Christmas Eve parade the town has ever seen.

“I see, I see,” Kirk was heard muttering as he brought up the rear of the parade. “Three knocks didn’t mean ‘by land and sea.’ It mean ‘by air.’”

Who is this strange ϨΔиϮα, readers, and what business does he have impersonating our Bob Diggins and interrupting our Christmas Eve parade? Your local reporter is on the case. Look for more on this issue in an upcoming edition of the Paroder.

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