350(+) — Bonus Story: Competition from the South Pole

Ol' St. Frick, aka Clanta Sars, fretted. The numbers just weren't coming in. She had been at it just as long as Ol' St. Nick, aka Santa Claus, but no children were writing her with Christmas list requests like what Santa got.

"Ma'am," reported the elf, Horton, "that Analytics guy is here."

"From WorkElf?"

"No. They said it'd be a conflict of interest. They've already been signed up with..."

"Let me guess!" she snapped.

"'Fraid so. The bunch at the North Pole."

"Big surprise," she seethed sarcastically. "So, who's this, Horton?" she asked as the man with a laptop satchel entered her ice palace.

"Ms. Sars? I'm from WorkHuman Analytics."

"OK, hot-shot, open your little machine; tell me where I'm going wrong." The man opened his laptop.

"C'mon, I'm paying by the hour."

"More like the eon."

"Whatever." She looked at her watch.

"Well, as you know, our firm assembles unparalleled people dynamics, cultural health, program performance, skills, and more, elevating ROI, productivity, retention, and the role of HR."

"HR?" asked Horton.

"Holiday Resources," he answered.

"Go on," Clanta prodded.

"Your Mission Statement, also as you know, reads,

'It is the mission of the Yule Pool at the South Pole to make the spirit of Christmas go viral, all over the world.'

"Who could disapprove of that? We thought it's a message that reads more like what the kids are into nowadays."

The analyst continued. "Further, your Vision reads,

'To gain the majority of market share in global home-sweet-home chimney delivery of our gifts; to out-deliver the Yule Fools from the North Pole; to disrupt the holiday season by making Boreal boring.'

"All you've done," the analyst continued, is deliver COVID-19 around the world."

"Viral, a-ha! To that, I say, 'Ho-Ho-Ho!'"

"No-No-No, Ms. Sars. That's your answer—gloating? That's the problem. Have you ever thought of disseminating gifts instead of viruses?"

"Like Salmonella?" Horton suggested.

"No! Like dolls and toy trucks. Gaming consoles, WeatherTech floor mats."

"Sir," said Clanta, "we've got an exclusive here." She turned to the elf. "Horton, load up the Petri dishes."

"Sure thing, Ms. Sars."

"What that?" Clanta asked.

"I hear it, too," Horton said.

"I think it's a W.H.O.," the analyst said.

______________

ABOUT THIS STORY

I made this story a bonus instead of one of the official stories-a-day, just because it's not that good. Just sayin'. But it wasn't so bad that I thought it shouldn't be written. I live conflicted. And I'm always a sucker for a cheap pun.