Did you hear about the man who was attacked by a Wombat?  He had a white beard, round belly and his name was Bruce Kringle. I love animal slapstick, but animal slapstick with Christmas themes is ridiculous. And to top it off, it was true! He was the Santa of the outback, on a mission to bring joy and peace to the wild animals of Australia.

Perhaps he forgot the wombat’s present? Or gave a more impressive one to another animal. Jealousy drives a creature wild. The short hair would be flying, standing up on end. The stumpy legs would be stamping the hard desert dirt in protest. The beady eyes would narrow, staring down the bearded intruder. The wombat would scratch the dirt back like a bull preparing to charge. He would hold his ground until the right moment and then POUNCE! Da doonk, da doonk, da doonk, down the dirt road towards Mr. Kringle.

Mr. Kringle would stand, staring at the small, solid creature careering towards him. Like a scene from The Naked Gun the round man would hold a scream,  his feet bolted to the ground as he watches his life flash before his eyes. The wombat would launch himself at the man, teeth bared, claws ready to tear at the pale North Pole skin.

The man would fall to the ground, shocked at the weight of this hideous, bloodthirsty creature and scream like a girl. His beard would tremble as he attempts to shake his hands  free from the enraged beast. Finally he relents, his hand reaches for his blood red sack. He pulls out another bag of carrots and weakly throws it at the animal.

The beast suddenly retracts his claws and pads off. The man is left bloodied and dusty. He packs his red suit away as he calls for help. The next thing he knows, he is in the hospital, showing off his wounds to a camera crew with his new name, Bruce. You’re fooling no one “Bruce”, we know who you really are.