“Why don’t you ever wear the green suit anymore?” asked Mrs. Claus, putting her hand on Santa’s chest. “I love the way you look in the green,” she said in a voice that meant she wanted to be on the naughty list.
“It’s a tradition now. Think of the children,” Santa replied, stroking his white beard in a way that he hoped made him look thoughtful.
“It’s all that Coca-Cola’s fault. Ever since they did all that advertising with you in red, that’s all people think about. Red, red, red. What about white? That’s a nice Christmas-y color.”
Santa sighed, “No dear, It has to be red. Someone might stab me or something if they didn’t see the red.”
“But the elves wear the green!” Mrs. Claus pointed out.
“That’s right, elves! Not Santa. People expect it.”
“I just miss it. Couldn’t you put on the green just for me?”
Santa looked her in the eyes. She had a twinkle in her eye that made it hard to ignore her request. But he couldn’t do it.
“I’m sorry, I can’t,” said Santa with a sad voice.
“I just…” Santa hesitated. “I…running this place isn’t cheap, you know. Giving away all these presents? It’s not a good business model, dear. I had to do something or Christmas would have been ruined. It’s Coca-Cola okay? I signed a contract. I have to wear red. It’s part of the deal! And if I drink a Pepsi?!”
Santa made a throat-slitting gesture.