You know it'll end like this.
A scandal. Kringle caught on film with LeAnn Rimes getting his jingle bells polished. Headline news on TMZ. Shamed by the press. Shunned by the church. Christmas... ruined forever!
Ol' St. Nick being served by Gloria Allred, who represents the soon-to-be-MS. Claus.
The North Pole, sold off to WalMart by the victorious Ms. Claus as she moves to Miami and becomes THE hot-shit-rich-as-all-Hell cougar of South Beach.
Santa retires to Calgary and runs a reindeer ranch, a recluse to the world which has betrayed him, secretly plotting his revenge. WalMart teams up with Apple to destroy Microsoft, who in turn flees to Antartica with Monsanto, GE, and Target to form a competing "South Pole". All countries along the equator become battleground wastelands (like any of them gave a shit about Christmas in the first place), littered with broken toys and shattered dreams. Anybody north who owns a PC must ally themselves to Apple, or flee to the south. Anyone in the south who owns an Apple, vice versa.
Soon, all major companies own and alliance to either side. Factories move closer to the polar extremes, deeper into the protected zones to inhibit arial raids. Contaminants from these factories, now closer to the polar ice caps, begin to have an effect on polar temperature fluctuations, melting vast quantities of ice. Soon, oceanic levels rise to the point where NewYork City ceases to exist, New Orleans disappears, all of Florida... gone -- a modern day Atlantis! Arid desert turns to beachfront property (buy your Imperial and Coachella Valley property today!). Heavier rainfall. Stronger hurricanes. Life as we know it -- changed forever.
All because a drunk-as-fuck LeAnn Rimes and a horny old man in a weird red outfit couldn't make heads or tails out of what they were doing.
It could happen.
But it probably won't. Santa doesn't exist. And nobody gives a crap about Rimes.
So we're safe... for now.
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