Two Heads Are Better Than One

Two Heads are Better then One
Part 6

"Santa, we need to talk," said Bernard with a serious face. Voltaire helped Santa get up and they made their way to Santa's room, Curtis had disappeared in the process of getting there. While walking Voltaire got the rest of the tinsel out of Bernard's hair and he did the same with her. Santa just watched their actions inconspicuously and then he went and changed his pants. Bernard went and got his jacket while Santa pulled his pants out.

"These fit yesterday," said Santa showing that he had some weight loss.

"Uh oh," commented the two puppets. She then watched as the two puppets then made hand motions. The female pointed to Voltaire and the male pointed to Bernard. Voltaire was confused until suddenly they collided to it look like they were kissing. Voltaire turned away and rolled her eyes. Then Abby walked in.

"Now's not a good time Abby," said Bernard. She was the new assistant to Santa since Judy moved with the guy from wrapping that she was seeing and now worked outside the workshop at a shoe shop. They were planned to be married the coming vacation.

"I sent Ashley down to get some Brazilian cocoa beans," said Abby.

"You did what? You know those are very limited," said Voltaire remembering her last nights stocks add up. Santa walked over to his desk and Bernard stood by Voltaire.

"Uh oh," he whispered in her ear. Voltaire nodded.

"What's the bad news?" asked Santa, catching on as well.

"What do you mean?" asked Abby, lying wasn’t her strong point.

"Whenever you play the designer bean card, generally you have bad news," replied Santa. Abby looked sad and handed him a piece of rolled up paper. "What are you doing with the naughty and nice list?"

"Just don't shoot the messenger," she said, "it's Charlie." Voltaire knew immediately what was wrong and grabbed onto Bernard's sleeve, he put an arm around her shoulder.

"Sheen? I thought he straightened up," said Santa. Voltaire look slightly shocked at what Santa had said.

"Not that Charlie," said Abby now a little uncomfortable.

"My Charlie. My son Charlie? He's on the naughty list?" asked Santa and Abby just nodded. They puppets got in their two cents by screaming and then hiding in their curtains. Bernard just sighed. "There's got to be a mistake," said Santa not believe it yet.

"We don’t make mistakes. I'm sorry Santa, please excuse me," said Abby and she walked away with her head down. That was when Curtis entered with the magnifying glasses.

"How could this happen, is this what you two and Curtis have been trying to tell me?" asked Santa looking at the list and Bernard and Voltaire walked over to Curtis.

"Great you told him!" exclaimed Curtis, "let's get you dressed for that meeting."

"I can't have the meeting here. I really can't. I have to go see Charlie," he said as Bernard tied the sash on the jacket and Voltaire looked accusingly over at Curtis.

"Number two you have to tell him right now," said Bernard.

"Tell me what? Guys come on, come clean," said Santa.

"Santa, there's a clause," said Curtis. Voltaire rolled her eyes at how vague he put it.

"Yea, and that would be me," said Santa confused.

"Now I mean there's another Santa clause," said Curtis.

"Curtis, in case you haven't notice, this time of year, the malls are filled with other 'Santa Claus's'," replied Santa realizing what a waste of time Curtis can really be.

"Yes, but there's another Santa Clause," said Curtis, "there was a first clause but there is also a second clause."

"Get on with it!" shouted the puppets. And Voltaire sighed and dropped her head on top Bernard's shoulder, in similar fashion as one would do while banging their head on a wall at the stupidity of another's actions.

"When the last Santa Claus fell of your roof and you put on his coat you found this," said Curtis and brought out the business card and put it in a slot at the end of the magnifying glasses.

"Right, he who wears the coat takes on the responsibility of Santa Claus, something like that, and the rest would be history right," said Santa and he turned to look at Bernard and Voltaire.

"But it seems, our number two elf, the keeper of the Handbook," he said and they both turned to face Curtis, who shrunk under their gaze, "forgot the single most important detail in the history of Christmas!"

"Wow, one mistake in nine hundred years," replied Curtis. Voltaire rolled her eyes and Bernard huffed and turned to Santa.

"Look," he said and lifted up a glass.

"I can't see that," said Santa.

"Better now?" asked Bernard lifting another.

"Um," was the intelligent reply.

"Or now?"

""Well."

"Better now?"

"It's getting there."

"Or now?"

"I can't see anything," declared Santa. Bernard then lifted the largest glass.

"I see, good, good, good. Okay," said Santa. Curtis came around to one side of Santa and Bernard and Voltaire leaned over on the other to read the writing as well. "The cardholder acknowledges, woman of his choosing, true love, not valid in the state of Utah. Holy…matrimony?! I got to get married!"

"Yes," said Bernard and he looked over at Voltaire, who stared at him back, "it's, the Mrs. Clause." And the puppets kindly supplied the wedding march. Santa just glanced at them and them put on his belt.

"What if I don't want to get married?" asked Santa and he pulled at his belt and soon found that the belt was too big for him.

"Oh dear. The de-Santafication process has begun!" yelled Curtis.

"The de-Santafication?" asked Santa slowly while looking at Curtis and then switched his gaze to Bernard and Voltaire," are you telling me that in that clause, it says that if I don't get married, I don't get to be Santa anymore?" Bernard shifted his feet and Voltaire just looked down. Santa sighed, "w-wha-what about the kids? What- what about that elves?" he asked as he went and sat down. "What about you guys?" he asked looking at them three of them.

"It's not completely hopeless, sir. You still have time to find a wife," said Bernard.

"Well how much time do I have, Curtis?" he asked looking over at the shorter elf.

"Twenty-eight days," said Curtis bluntly.

"Twenty-eight days. So I have to find a wife by Christmas," he said putting a false happy face.

"Actually, Christmas Eve," butted in Curtis. Santa sighed.

"I guess it's over," declared Santa.

"No! You can't think that way! Please don’t give up hope. 'Cause if you do…then we have to," Curtis said. Bernard put an arm around Voltaire's shoulders and they both sighed, along with the puppets. Then they watched in horror as Santa's beard began to shrink right before their eyes. The puppets got over their depression and screamed.

"Whoa," said Curtis.

"Christmas is getting very complicated," said Santa sadly.

"We should give him some time to think before the meeting," said Voltaire. The others nodded and they all left his room. Voltaire put her arm around Bernard's waist and he kept his arm around her shoulders as they silently followed behind Curtis as he pushed the glasses away. Once in the kitchen Voltaire sighed as they sat down at a table.

"Curtis makes me so mad some times. If only he told Santa earlier then he would have had time to find a wife," said Bernard clenching his fist.

"This particular Santa is a hand full isn't he?" said Voltaire. She sighed and went and got both of them a hot chocolate and a piece of cake.

"Another long Christmas," said Bernard before taking a bite of his cake. Voltaire nodded her head in agreement.