By Colin Elk
At the winter solstice, on 21st December, Santa said to his reindeer: “Come on, let’s go!”
The Lead Reindeer said, “But you haven’t given us the password!”
“The one Mircosoft gave you.”
“Why do I need a bloody password?”
“Didn’t you hear about the Mogg-Ryan-Goodwin Act, passed back in July? It’s very clear. For security reasons, every leader of a reindeer troupe must supply a password before he and his reindeer can be allowed to fly.”
Santa looked up the reference, and found that it was indeed so. And the evening and the morning were the first day.
He had forgotten the password, so he e-mailed Mircosoft Support requesting a password change. He received an immediate automated response, and set about changing his password. But whatever combination he tried that he might afterwards remember, he got a message: “Your password is not sufficiently strong.”
And the evening and the morning were the second day.
Exasperated, Santa typed a long, random sequence of characters. And, lo and behold, they were accepted! “Now confirm your new password” came the message.
Try as he would, Santa couldn’t reproduce the sequence. So, he sent another e-mail to Mircosoft Support, asking to be allowed to change his password again. He received an immediate automated response, “Mircosoft Support is closed on Sundays. Please try again tomorrow.”
And the evening and the morning were the third day.
It was now Christmas Eve, and Santa was in danger of breaching his contract with the Great Galactic Gopher. For a small consideration, Santa had agreed to provide a diversion for Earthly children from what their elders were doing to them, by flying – in child-visible mode – around planet Earth with his reindeer on one day of the year, December 25th.
Santa considered his options and, having decided, set up a new Mircosoft account. Not having much creativity, he picked a username that was an anagram of his own: “Satan.” Everything went through smoothly, and he was authorized to take his reindeer up on the next day. And did so.
And the evening and the morning were the fourth day.
When the Great Galactic Gopher found out, he laughed uncontrollably for two days straight. He needed a day of rest after that.