“What do you say we have one more round, Eh?” Jacob says.
“I’m good for one more.” Thomas says.
“How do you drink that stuff. It tastes so awful.”
“Lutin? Two more drinks for me and my friend here.”
Lutin pours another rum eggnog and pops the top off another bottle. The two birds sip and sigh together.
“Any plans after the end of the season?” Jacob says.
“Nah, going back home for a bit. Nothing special. You?”
“Thought I’d take a trip down to somewhere warmer.”
“Haven’t decided. I thought about Florida, but I’m okay with never going to Florida, Eh?’
“I ain’t going to Florida.”
“Anyhoo, I’ll find someplace nice and fly down for a couple weeks.”
“Sounds nice. Unless you’re just going somewhere to steal eggs.”
“For Pete’s sake, Tommy, I don’t eat fertilized eggs. It’s like less than one percent of Jays that do that and they’re, you know, coocoo or whatever, Eh?”
“Well, at least I don’t go pickin’ fights with my reflection?”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means you’re coocoo for fighting the mirror, Eh. You’d be great at hockey if we put mirrors on the players’ helmets.”
“I don’t fight mirrors. There was another guy who just happened to look like me givin’ me the eyes.”
“You know? The eyes. Like he wants to fight.”
“You always look like you wanna fight.”
“’Cause guys like that always give me the eyes.”
The door to the shop bursts open.
“Welcome back, Ben.” Lutin says.
“Was I…here before?” Benjamin says.
“Is Ben givin’ me the eyes!? You better not be givin’ me the eyes!”
“I should have left after my last drink.” Jacob says.
“I’ll be passing soon…very soon.”
And so, it continues every night during our delivery season. A few birds gather in one of our shops as many others deliver toys and presents. These birds and elves who do all the work are the backbone of this holiday season. Most humans give me all the credit, especially the children. But I’m here to tell you Santa has never done it alone. Until next year. Farewell.