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The Reindeer

At the North Pole reception desk, as an elf sat shuffling papers, an animal made his way through the snow to the counter. He seemed to be some member of the canine family, but he was wearing a pair of antlers across his head. They did seem a little crooked though.

"Can I help you?" said the elf.

"Yea, I'm here for the reindeer games." The elf was slightly startled, since the animal didn't particularly look like a reindeer.

"Are you a reindeer?" the elf asked. "Well, yea," said the animal, gesturing up at his antlers and sporting an expression on his face as if it should have been obvious to anyone. The elf, a bit too trusting, hesitated for a bit, then finally told him, "They're over that way, to your right." The animal started walking off when another, more senior elf came to the desk.

"Hey, who is that?" he asked the elf.

"It's a reindeer. He was looking for the reindeer games."

"He's not a reindeer. He's a coyote. He was here last year and pulled the same thing. Somebody let him in when he said he was a reindeer. They started the reindeer games with fifteen reindeer but they ended up with about eleven. And we don't need the herd thinned out this year. Hey you, come back here!" The coyote turned around and walked back to the desk.

"Yes?" The elder elf pointed at the coyote. "See, those aren't real antlers."

"Yes they are," said the coyote. "No they're not," said the elder elf. "And no reindeer would have sharp teeth like that. That's a coyote."

"No, no. I'm a reindeer."

"No, you're not. Wait a minute." The elf reached up over the coyote's left antler and grabbed something. "Look at this. He's got a knife and fork hidden in his antlers. No reindeer carries silverware around with them."

"They might," said the coyote.

"No, they wouldn't. And what kind of a predator are you, anyway, with a knife and fork? That is really weak." Suddenly the elf saw something else in the coyote's right antler. "Hold on. Look at this." He grabbed a bottle out of the antler. "He's carrying hot sauce around with him. You know, you're the least impressive carnivore I've ever seen." "I'm not a carnivore. I'm a reindeer."

"Oh be quiet. Take him into Santa Claus. See what he wants to do with him."

As it turned out, Santa, being a trusty and jolly sort, gave the coyote a job watching guard on the reindeer games. And on Christmas Eve, Santa flew him back home, dropping him off in the desert. He spent the next year trying to make his antlers look more realistic.

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