On the night before Christmas at the North Pole an economic recession had taken its toll.

Jobs for the elves went south of the border when Arctic labor was found out of order.

Production of toys was moved overseas where the costs of labor were low as can be. The North Pole suffered and its walls were torn down. Santa himself was forced out of town.

Candidates came and candidates went leaving greasy slime trails and malodorous scents made of empty vows to get things on track while throwing their taxes on citizens’ backs.

The document that framed the grand old North Pole disappeared the same day that the reindeer were sold to pay for the debts the recession did cause and forcing bankruptcy on dear Santa Claus.

Bailouts were futile and unions caused strife and forced labor costs to go out of sight.

Santa was desperate, his elves turned to drugs while the North Pole leaders merely smirked and they shrugged. Much to the country’s frustration and curses, the leaders printed more money to fatten their purses.

The few brave enough to offer solutions were cast off as nuts or just called deluded. The loss of free markets seemed quite accepted and pleas for freedom were only rejected. The loss of quality seemed irritating but not quite enough to cause agitation. It did little to change results at the polls where voters kept choosing the old status quo.

One day a drunken elf started to cry when he read in the paper that Santa Claus died. Father Christmas did not die from natural causes, he simply died from free market losses, a loss in pride of quality from job after job shipped overseas — Lance Martin in honor of those who voted their convictions and not the status quo in the November election.