But that wasn't enough. They wanted reassurance, they wanted guarantees. They wanted to know they wound not be forgotten, even after the season was over; to be certain that someone would answer their needs when nobody else cared to listen. When the clock struck nine, and the security guards ushered everyone out to the street, they still held Iggy aloft, pawing at his jolly red suit and barking out their wishes, like Yuletide terrorists caught up in the frenzy of a hijack. For that's what he was, Iggy knew - a hijacked Santa, at the mercy of the people with the lists. It seemed, now, that asking just wasn't enough. They had their Santa and they were going to keep him, much like the people in fairy tales capture leprechauns and hold them until they tell where their pot of gold is hidden.
From "The Santas Of Demotion Street", Beautiful Stories For Ugly Children #16, 1990
Dave Louapre and Dan Sweetman
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