The Physics of Santa Claus.
I especially enjoy the mental picture of 8 flaming reindeer.
I've had this idea for a short story roaming around my mind for awhile, based on Dickens Christmas Carol. The day before Christmas Eve (Christmas Eve Eve), after gluttonously downing another huge meal prepared for his fat self by the hard working and under appreciated Mrs. Claus, the obese toad falls into a deep sleep. He's visited by his recently deceased buddy, the Easter Bunny. Picture kind of a Stephen King Pet Sematary, decaying corpse Easter Bunny. It is the 21st Century after all. Bottom Line, Fatso is warned by the dead rodent that he's got a nice, warm place waiting for him in Hell if he continues on his path of overeating, exploiting workers for slave wages, taking his wife for granted, abusing animals and encouraging children around the world to ignore the transcendent, spiritual aspect of Christmas and instead focus on their own selfish material needs.
As in the original story, Santa is taken to Christmas past, specifically the first Christmas night. He witnesses how the Savior of the World began his earthly life in humble, poor circumstances. He visits the present and the screeching, grasping, self-absorbed little brats who find happiness only in material gain. Finally, he is taken to the future where, after his death, his godless, materialistic empire is co-opted by the Tooth Fairy who, it turns out, is actually a hell-spawned imp who has been snatching the souls of children past the age of reason on behalf of his Dark Master for centuries.
Upon awakening, Santa repents of his materialism. Instead of toys, he delivers to all the children of the world (good and especially bad) a rosary and a booklet teaching them how to pray it (sans Luminous Mysteries of course. Santa's not a member of the Illuminati after all) along with a brief pamphlet explaining Extra Ecclesiam Nulla Salus, which explicates the necessity of joining the Catholic Church ASAP lest they be damned for all eternity. After obtaining the permission of the Mrs., he distributes all his goods to the poor and joins a monastery, where he gives himself to a life of penance and mortification, living on nothing more than a potato or two each day and sleeping 2 hours or less each night.
Sadly, Doc doesn't have time to write such a story. Feel free to steal it, however. I'll take my 60% cut when it becomes a best seller.