It was late Christmas Eve, and all around the world people were going to bed in hopes of Christmas morning. All, that is, except for one little sandshrew perplexing his owner.
	“Umm… what are you doing?” asked Urthdigger. The mole had come into the living room to find Sandy standing in the fireplace, head tilted back and mouth open.
	“Waiting for Santa Claus!” replied Sandy, before returning to his gluttonous vigil.
	Urthdigger simply shook his head “Santa Claus isn’t real you doofus, now get to bed.”
	Thinking the matter closed, he walked up the stores and went to bed.
	
	Midnight came, and Sandy was still standing in the fireplace. His eyes were closed, the little sandshrew snoring away over the gentle sounds of jingle bells and clopping hooves on the rooftop.
	Jolly old Santa was quite tempted to just pass this house by. One unbeliever, and one sandshrew that lived up to the title of Pocket MONSTER. Still, he had presents to deliver, so in a flash he was off the sleigh and down the chimney with a sack
	Typically, Santa was in and out of the house faster than you could blink. Here, however, Sandy was awoken by something larger cramming itself down his throat with such force that it knocked him out of the fireplace and into the middle of the room. As the sandshrew found his senses, a realization struck him. Only one creature so large could move so fast.
	“Santa!” cried out Sandy, hugging his belly and wagging his tail. “It’s really you, I can’t believe it!”
	
	The Christmas legend in his stomach struggled and fought, making his belly bounce about like a bowl full of jelly as he went outside and climbed onto the roof. True to the legend, there was a bright red sleigh and 10 feral reindeer. Sandy climbed into the seat, belched, and gave the reins a snap. The sleigh took off at a dizzying speed, alighting gently on the next kid’s house.
	The ride was certainly fun, but looking over the animals tied to the sleigh, he felt a certain hunger burning in his belly. He’d eaten one Christmas legend today, why not finish it off with some flying reindeer? He pounced off the seat and wrapped his stretchy muzzle around Dasher, forcing the panicked reindeer down his throat. The others panicked, getting caught up in their reins as they tried to flee from the little monster easily gulping down their friend. One by one, each reindeer slipped their reins only to vanish down the sandshrew’s throat. As the cherry on top, he even swallowed Rudolph, and Olive (the other reindeer). His belly jiggled and wobbled, the struggling prey leaving the ‘shrew barely able to reach the ground with his legs.
	
	With a belly full of Christmas cheer keeping himself warm, he tried to reach down to stroke himself, groaning in frustration as he proved unable to reach the raging erection the feast had given him. Whining with need, he leaned forward and ground his bulging belly against his erection, moaning in pleasure as the prey within unwittingly massaged his cock. “Nommed Dasher, nommed Dancer, nommed Prancer and Vixen! Nommed Comet, nommed Cupid, nommed Donner and Blitzen!” Sandy sang to himself, pre leaking down his shaft and lubricating his paw as he humped his bulging belly. The panicked struggle of all his prey, the legendary reputation of those folks digesting away in his stomach, the thought of everyone who would never see Santa, all pushed him swiftly over the edge. Sandy cried out in ecstasy as he came, adding a splash of white to his belly and the crimson sleigh.
	
	“Ahh… that was my best present ever…” he sighed out in ecstasy, his bowels gurgling from the digested remains pouring through them. His belly shrank as it swiftly processed the fairy tale in a few scant minutes, the unused waste quickly collecting in his bowels. “How about we give your next stop a present too?”
	Sandy sat down on the chimney, tail raised, and relaxed his asshole, the sludge that used to be Santa and his reindeer pouring from his rump.  His bowels groaned as the warm, sticky logs that remained plopped down into the fireplace. He sighed with relief, enjoying the feeling of the bone chips, clumps of fur, and ruined clothing tickling his tailhole as it passed from his colon into the make-shit commode.
	Down below in the house, a naughty kid waiting up for Santa gasped in surprise at the sound, and crept into the living room to catch the jolly fat man. He peered into the dark room and squinted as his eyes tried to adjust to the dark room. As he looked around, he tried to catch sight of the trademark red outfit, finally seeing it in the fireplace. He grinned widely as he stepped in, before he suddenly recoiled from the overpowering stench. He blinked owlishly for a few moments, followed by an “Eww!” as he finally saw the mess spilling out of the fireplace… followed by a terrified shriek as a reindeer’s shattered skull landed on the pile.
	Sandy howled in laughter as the kid screamed, letting out a last rancid fart as Rudolph’s sleigh bells escaped from his bowels. Snickering all the way, he jumped down from the roof and disappeared into the night.
	
	The next morning, Urthdigger yawned as he padded into the room, all but collapsing into his favorite recliner. He groaned a little as Sandy walked in, whistling a cheerful tune.
	“Morning!” said Sandy casually. “Waffles today?”
	“You’re awfully cheerful for being up so late,” Urthdigger grumbled as he took a sip of his tea, the hot liquid waking him up slightly.
	“You might want to turn on the morning news. Waffles?”
	Urthdigger sighed as he did what the sandshrew asked, turning on the tv and flipping to the news. He was greeted to a news reporter standing in front of a house practically covered with police tape, with “BREAKING NEWS: CHRISTMAS RUINED FOREVER?” sprawled across the bottom of the screen.
	“We’re getting analysis now from the forensics lab. We’re still not sure if it’s an imposter or the real Santa Claus, but we can confirm that the digested remains of one adult male and ten reindeer were found in this family’s fireplace shortly after…” The screen went dark as Urthdigger shut off the TV, staring at the mischievous little pokemon in utter shock.
	“You… ate Santa Claus?” the mole asked in bewilderment.
	“And you said he wasn’t real,” snickered Sandy. “So, waffles?”
	“You just… ruined Christmas!” he exclaimed.
	“Especially for that house on the news,” Sandy snickered again.
	Urthdigger facepalmed, shaking his head in admonishment at the unrepentant glutton. “…goddamnit Sandy.”