The clock ticked on towards midnight on Christmas Eve and Santa was at the end of his tether. His cheeks, once chubby and red, were drawn and ashen as he paced the floor of his workshop clutching three crumpled letters.
"These people want the impossible!" he cried in frustration. His senior elves cowered behind the half-laden sled. Never before had they seen their boss so angry. "World Peace? Simple! An end to poverty? A piece of cake! But this?"
