Merry Christmas

Not long after that, we turned onto a single-lane road, a very unusual road paved with red and green bricks. Soon we rolled up to a gatehouse and came to a stop. A very tall dude with a tiny strip of tinsel caught in his beard stepped out.

“Merry Christmas!” he said.

“Well, it’s a little early, but – “

“And welcome to Kringle Ranch! Mr. Little, I presume?”

“Bernie,” said Bernie.

“And this must be Chet. My goodness!” He pressed a button and the gate swung open. “Second left, third right’ll take you straight to Cratchit House. Key and welcome note are under the mat. Enjoy your stay! Merry Christmas!”

“Same to you,” Bernie said.

“That’s what I like to hear! They don’t call me Santa’s gatekeeper for nothin’.”