Once upon a chilly Christmas Eve, deep in the North Pole, Santa, AKA Kris Kringle, was experiencing an unprecedented crisis. The reindeers, tired of their endless, once-a-year marathon and lack of benefits, decided to go on strike. Led by union leader Rudolph, they were firm in their demands: more carrots, extra cocoa breaks, and a serious commitment to greener sleigh technology. Mrs. Claus, ever supportive, offered to pull the sleigh herself. But Rudolph, wagging his antlers, declared her a “Scab” and everyone knew she couldn’t possibly cross the Union Line.
Without his trusty reindeer, Santa had to find an alternative way to deliver presents to the world’s children. Anxiously sipping his eggnog, he was struck by a brilliant idea. “A bicycle! Why didn’t I think of it before?” he exclaimed. Excitedly, he marched over to Head Mechanic and Top Bicycle Bike Shop Elf, Tinky.
Tinky, eyeing Santa’s robust physique, immediately recommended an electric fat bike, perfect for treading through snowy terrains. But Santa, vanity getting the better of him, insisted on a sleek vintage road bike instead. “It makes me look thinner,” he argued, puffing out his belly and posing dramatically. The elf sighed, knowing this was a wobbly road to tread, but obliged Santa’s request.
With his red suit snug against the cold, Santa set off, pedaling furiously. His troubles began almost immediately. Balancing on the roof of house number one, the slickness of the snow caught his tires, transforming the bike into a rogue toboggan. Santa slid with the grace of a dancing walrus, tumbling off the edge and landing backside-first on a fragrant evergreen tree. “Ho, ho, ohhhh no!” he groaned, untangling festive pine needles from his beard.
As Santa persevered, the flat tires followed him like a persistent paparazzi, rudely popping unannounced. Each attempt to inflate them with holiday cheer proved futile, as no bike shops were open this fateful night, even for the most jolly of men.
The journey seemed hopeless until he arrived in the charming town of Millet, Alberta. Here, the stars aligned at Circuit Cycle & Sports. He stumbled in, covered in tinsel and half-deflated tires. The friendly service staff welcomed him with open arms, impressed by Santa’s sheer determination (and admittedly amusing tale of vehicular incompetence). They quickly fixed his bike, even adding a snazzy new bell with a sound that jingled “Jingle Bells” in three pitches.
Revitalized and a tad more humble, Santa continued his deliveries with newfound confidence, the hilarious melody of the bell echoing through the night. As he pedaled away, the Circuit Cycle staff chuckled, waving as they called out, “Maybe next year, go hybrid, Santa!”
And so, with blistered seat and merry heart, Santa raced towards dawn, rethinking both his mode of transport and perhaps a little bit of reindeer negotiation strategy. And though exhausted, as he arrived back at the North Pole, he rang his new bell one last time, laughing at the wild bicycle adventure he would never forget.