21 Jump Street (Tom Hanson)

Busting Santa Claus

"What are you going to do?" Tom asked.

"I don't really know... I don't want to arrest Santa Claus in front of a ton of children. That would traumatize them. It would probably traumatize me too. I might have to wait until our shift is over. Might need to call for backup soon though, he just drank a small bottle of rum."

"Is your cover still solid?"

"A Gregg cover comes with a lifetime guarantee," I told him.

"They can't call in a replacement?" Tom asked.

I laughed, "Willie is the replacement." I looked at my watch and did not realize how fast the time went. I said, "the phone is almost out of minutes. I'm going to have to let you go."

"Call me later, okay?"

"Okay," I promised and hung up.

I headed up toward the food court and saw that Willie was eating a salad at a table. His hat and wig and fake beard were off, completely distancing himself from Santa. A mother walked up to him with her young son, and I hoped that he would at least be nice to them. However, that was not the case. As he was chewing, he yelled at them, "I'm on my fucking lunch break, okay?!"

Salad was coming out his mouth as he was fuming with anger. Once the woman and her son walked away, I saw him take another little bottle of liquor from his coat and pour it in his soda. How many of those things did he have? I was flabbergasted that no one had the means to fire this man yet. He was sleazy, disgusting, incredibly rude, and intoxicated.

I headed back to the Gingerbread house and got inside. I wrote all the fireable offenses that Willie committed on a piece of paper and put it along the waistband of my tights so I wouldn't lose it. I waited a couple more minutes for Willie to join me, but he never did.

I eventually got out because it had been more than fifteen minutes and I tried to entertain the line of anxiously impatient children by asking them Christmas-y questions. I usually find it difficult to get along with children easily, but I took on the role of a friendly elf pretty well. The kids seemed to like me and asked me questions about the North Pole, but occasionally they would want to know where Santa was. I told them that he had to go outside to feed the reindeer, and he would be right back.

"There's Santa!" A kid called out and pointed. I followed their direction and saw Willie stumbling up to the station. My jaw dropped when I saw his condition. His belt was off so his cheap coat was opened, he wasn't wearing his hat or the wig, or even his beard. He was so intoxicated, he was mumbling incoherently. Before I could do anything to distract the children from it, Willie stumbled forward and grabbed at a donkey statue we had. He lost his footing and fell into a pile of wrapped boxes in front of all the children.