Santa was very cross. It was Christmas Eve and NOTHING was going right. Mrs Claus had burned all the cookies; the elves were complaining about not being paid overtime for making the toys; the reindeer had been drinking all afternoon and were dead drunk; they had taken the sleigh for a spin earlier and had crashed it into a tree.
Santa was furious. "I can't believe it! I've got to deliver millions of presents all over the world in just a few hours, all my reindeer are drunk, the elves are on strike and I don't even have a Christmas tree! I sent that stupid Little Angel out HOURS ago to find a tree, and he isn't back yet! What am I going to do?"
Just then, the Little Angel opened the front door and stepped in from the snowy night, dragging a Christmas tree. He said, "Yo, fat man! Where do you want me to stick the tree this year?"
And thus the tradition of angels atop the Christmas trees came to pass....
