Doc and Santa

I had a falling-out with Santa last year and I’m not sure if the old elf will bring me candy or coal this Christmas. Kringle received some letters requesting bottles of my wondrous Wizard Water^©. It’s not something they manufacture up North, though, so he contacted me. I wanted to charge the old fellow the regular rate – two dollars a bottle. (I know that’s almost a week’s pay for most folks and seems exorbitant, but what is the price of good health?)

“This is a business,” I told Santa, “and I can’t afford to give this valuable product away, even to a fellow miracle-worker.” So all Kringle could do last year was leave notes under a bunch of trees referring people to me.

The old elf got even though – in the notes, he also guaranteed the bottles would be free. I found this out later when folks started bringing me the hand-written notes. What could I do? The letters were signed by Kris Kringle himself! I wasn’t going to call Santa a liar.

So for the first time in my life, I gave away my Wizard Water^©. But I charged for the bottles.

“The medicine is free to bearers of the signed certificate, but the bottles are two dollars each. They are made from a specially formulated glass shipped all the way from Brazil by way of Cape Horn, and I have to charge full price for them," I explained. “They preserve the freshness of the medicine twice as long as regular brown glass. They're also Christmas green, in keeping with the season.”

Described that way, most folks anted up. I sent the old fellow a letter this year asking him for a new hat for Bleb, some horehound candy and a bullet-proof frock coat, but I may be in for a disappointment. I won’t mind, though. We can use the coal.