Writer Unblocked

A Corona Cokemas

Father Christmas smiled with the mirth of a madman.

It was that special time of year again, a December’s hard work fuelled by coke. The delectable taste of coca cola was honey to his soul, the bubbles high on happiness in his brain. Being Santa was not easy, he needed something to help.

Due to his time time-travelling sleigh, he visited the whole world in just one half hour window on Christmas Eve. He performed the countless trips while enjoying December downtime on Planet Earth in-between. And of course lots of coke, with some pizza and chips thrown in.

As an angel who lived in heaven, there was not much earthly delight to be had there. This turned December on Earth all the sweeter, the taste of coke his chivalrous companion.

Santa prowled the local convenience store, his trolley loaded with cans of coke. He threw in some sugar and choice spices.

“Hello sir!” he shouted at the checkout till. He would never use a self-service machine, not nearly as much fun. An electronic robot voice with no face to grin at his mediocre jokes. Why would you?

“It’s the time of year to be good! Or Santa may not come!” The clerk blushed, smiling. When had he last encountered this eccentric customer? Possibly not since last Christmas. It was good to see he still enjoyed a can of coke … or twenty.

“This should enrich your evening!” Santa handed him a unique golden coke can replica. “It is real gold! Enjoy!”

The clerk gulped. How much was this worth? And who on earth was this guy who always acted like he was in a coke advert?

Perhaps he was a mystery shopper, with the power to hire and fire. Or a mad scientist in disguise, working in to the early hours of the morning fuelled by coke.

Perhaps he was an imaginary friend come to life, dishing out gold to the needy. A virtual do gooder, a figment of your mind.

Santa ran slowly back to his flat, his unfit body gasping. Exercise did not form a big part of his eleven month holiday in Heaven.

It was time to concoct a magical new coca cola recipe.

He had devised the plan in Heaven over the last eleven months. It was simple, and only just within the realms of what was permitted on Earth. He was only allowed to hand out gifts. However, there was no law stating that he could not improve his gifts … And that is just what he would do. With the assistance of his angelic magic manifester machine – put one can in, and get enough for the entire planet.

Coca cola would turn in to a rainbow. And a healing rainbow at that, each colour carrying magic energy that acted both as a vaccine and a cure for covid.

It was the perfect gift for Planet Earth.

At his rented flat, Santa inserted the magic ingredients in to a can of coke, then poured it in glee. His glass glowed in the lamplight – full of liquid with seven distinct colours, one on top of each other. Santa laughed. What child could resist this drink? The taste of cola, and the colour of healing magic.

It was time for coca cola to go viral.

It was time for colour healing.

It was time for Christmas.

Santa chuckled as he inserted the secret ingredients in to a second can of coke, and then triumphantly placed it in the angelic magic manifester machine, which would now work tirelessly for the whole of December, producing can after can of modified coke.

Now, it was time for fun! First, a trip to his favourite local McDonalds. He loved the staff there, and he decided that they all needed a Christmas bonus. He lifted a sack of money – again, possible thanks to the manifestation powers of the magic machine.

“Time to eat and be merry!” cried Santa as he entered McDonalds. “Two large fries and your largest burger,” he beamed at his server. “And of course, a large coke. And a very merry Christmas to you all!” He placed his sack on the ground. Money began to be thrown everywhere – at customers and staff alike. A cloud of green and black joy ignited the Christmas spirit, as frowns fizzled out and laughter fizzed in their place.

“And remember!” cried Santa, “if you give any of this money to others or to charities, expect an even bigger present from Father Christmas this year!”

The assembled customers all laughed. Who was this guy with the belly, the deep laugh and the glinting eyes!

The next day, Santa had an idea. Another one, even better than the corona coke cure.

It just might work.

He quickly penned a letter to the President of the US, signing himself as “Your Friend, Father Christmas” and wondering if the signature alone would deem its parachute in to the nearest bin? If you can’t sign a letter from Santa in December, then when can you sign a letter from Santa?

Time travel was only permitted within the month of December – in this year. Santa chuckled. At Christmas, rules were at best flexible, at worst simply made to be broken.

He sped forward two years, and there it was, glowing in the Pacific sea beneath his sleigh. Christmas Island. His idea taken on form.

It was a small island, and now a holiday camp for deserving souls. General community do-gooders were nominated, and a handful selected for this treat: a free holiday on Christmas Island, served and looked after by previously homeless persons, who were now awarded a new career which – like his own – only accounted for one month of the year, with an interminable holiday season inbetween.

Father Christmas lounged on the beach and sighed. He was in full costume, the holiday makers assuming he was part of the deal and making him very welcome. “Let’s grant your Christmas wish!” he cried when anyone approached him.

The previously homeless waiters knew better. He was not on the itinerary. They looked at him in trepidation, awarding him a careful nod.

Then he noticed himself approaching! It was Father Christmas, a future (or past) him.

“Welcome my friend! I remember meeting myself here, so made sure it would happen! Your (my) idea was adopted as you can see. Christmas Island! We did it!”

“Indeed we did my friend. Want to help me with Christmas 2021?”

And so it came to pass that on December 24^th 2021, not one, but two Santas circled Earth, leaving gifts and the glitter of joy in their wake. Of course, they found time to share a McDonald’s together.

In full Christmas costume, complete with two Santa sacks, they dished out gifts to staff and customers alike. It was a Christmas Eve to remember, as the magic of generosity ignited in all Earth souls, and the spirit of Christmas sparked like a heavenly fire that could never be extinguished.

“Happy Christmas my friend!” said one Santa to another, clinking their cans of coke together.

Christmas claimed the land, as tears of sadness turned to tears of joy. It was time to be merry, time to crack open coke Santa style, and time to enjoy the season.

The magic cans of coke arrived on every doorstep, and in every stocking. It was the end of covid, and the beginning of a Christmas wish that just might last forever.

Peace and goodwill to all reading this blog – may your coke bubbles whisper conspiratorially, and grant you all the health and happiness that a heart can hold.