Mr. Allen was there with a man in a red suit, bent over a waste paper basket, puking his guts out.“I’m sorry Tim,” the man said after he gasped ... lungful of air. “There’s no way that I can. I’m afraid I’m just too sick.”“Oh god,” the CEO exclaimed. “We have to have a Santa Claus! Can the temp company send one Chris?”“Not at this late juncture, I believe they are booked up ‘til Christmas Eve.” The one called Chris said.Sighing, the CEO threw his arms up, “What am I going to do? We have to have a. Out of ordinary at the best of times for my neighbors to come knocking on my door, but on a Saturday? I opened the door to reveal the postman holding a small white envelope with my name and address on it. He handed me it with a nod and a smile before moving on down the street. Puzzled, I looked at the envelope in my hand. I was small yes, but was crammed full of something soft, but not soft enough to compress to the size of my letterbox. I tore open the envelope and was instantly hit by the. More

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