Santa was a big pluviophile and was enjoying the petrichor. He took his bumbershoot with him. Santa was walking on air. It was a week before he would distribute the gifts for Christmas. His beard had grown very long, all the way to his boots. Santa Claus’ wife, Santy Claus, commanded, ‘Go trim your beard, or I’m cutting it off.’ And she was very bad at it. So here he was, standing at the porch of his favorite barber shop called ‘Big, Bad Barbers’.