Do You Know What I Know: a Holiday Timeline

[spanishspy]

Preface:

This year has been brutal on me. I've been coming to terms with how I have been psychologically abused for most of my life, and my academics have been struggling. Being held up as the straight-A student for over a decade didn't help matters.

But the holidays come every year, which is a time we ought to celebrate. As such, I continue my tradition of holiday timelines with its fifth incarnation, if only to help dull the pain. I've legitimately enjoyed coming up with strange and convoluted things for these timelines, and so I have been ruminating on this one since August or so. Since this semester isn't quite as mentally taxing as this time last year, updates should be a bit more frequent than last year.

Without further ado:

DO YOU KNOW WHAT I KNOW:
A HOLIDAY TIMELINE
BY SPANISHSPY



COMING TO AN ONLINE DISCUSSION FORUM NEAR YOU 12/3/17

Said the Shepard boy to the mighty king
Do you know what I know
In your palace wall mighty king
Do you know what I know
A child, a child
Shivers in the cold
Let us bring him silver and gold
Let us bring him silver and gold


Said the king to the people everywhere
Listen to what I say
Pray for peace people everywhere
Listen to what I say
The child, the child
Sleeping in the night
He will bring us goodness and light
He will bring us goodness and light

[lordroel]

Nov 28, 2017 6:10:13 GMT spanishspy said:

COMING TO AN ONLINE DISCUSSION FORUM NEAR YOU 12/3/17

Nice, it is a long time sins you created a new timeline for use to read.

[spanishspy]

Nov 29, 2017 4:19:12 GMT lordroel said:

Nov 28, 2017 6:10:13 GMT spanishspy said:

COMING TO AN ONLINE DISCUSSION FORUM NEAR YOU 12/3/17

Nice, it is a long time sins you created a new timeline for use to read.

Been rather busy lately. Over break I want to get back to Worthy of Their Mettle too. 

[spanishspy]

North Pole, December 1962

No, the denizens of Santa Claus’ domain was not actively preparing for imminent obliteration, but Napier Wreathlayer could still see the civil air patrol sleighs flying outside the window, and the anti-air gun that the North Pole Armed Forces had set up was still there. Of course, given the circumstances of his place of employment, they probably would have been there anyway.

This was the facility known as the Stocking. Only a precious few elves had known about it, but it held the most of Santa Claus’ secrets, the secrets that allowed him to continue his crusade to spread joy to the world.

Napier was merely a cog in the machine, but machines generally need all their cogs to work. He was the clerk at the entrance, taking in visitors with their special deliveries.

The door opened. Napier presumed the guards had let in this visitor.

“Mr. Wreathlayer!” proclaimed the visitor. “Remember me? Livingston Baubler?”

“Ah, yes, Mr. Baubler! The cardstock?”

“Why, yes! All I need is to talk to Mr. Yuletide at the records department. Some technical stuff you needn’t worry yourself with.” Baubler reached into his coat and produced a flask of some sort of liquid, and presented it to Wreathlayer.

“I know you’re such an aficionado of eggnog and its varieties, so here, have some. Spiked with peppermint.”

Wreathlayer’s face warmed. “Why thank you, Mr. Baubler! How did you know?”

“Tip from a friend of mine in records,” remarked Baubler. “Why don’t you take a sip!”

“With pleasure!”

He took the churchkey he kept at his desk (he’d need a stiff drink now and then just to stave off the monotony) and opened it. He took a swig from the bottle.

It tasted off. He peered at Baubler. “Is this still good?”

“For me it is,” remarked the visitor.

Wreathlayer had collapsed to the floor. To finish the job, Baubler brandished a knife and stabbed Wreathlayer in the neck. He started rummaging through the file cabinets, looking for some pieces of critical information.

“Facility Map” he pulled out of one. “Archives guide” was another. Good.

He took the ring of a great many keys that had hung behind the little wall of the desk and stuffed it in a pocket.

He returned to the exit, and rapped his knuckles on the door. In came his entourage, other elves armed with stolen gear, hung on their belts, from one of the North Pole armories. “Looking over the map, what we want is in holding room H. All of you except group 2, take positions. If there’s security inside, and there is, tell them it’s an emergency. If they’re too difficult, shoot them.”

Into the corridors of the musty facility went Baubler and his entourage, and found holding room H without difficulty. The guard must be elsewhere, perhaps reassigned to defend from bombing raids instead. Baubler took the keys that he had absconded with, and opened the door.

Filing cabinets, as far as the eye could see. The room was dimly lit, but it was indeed lit. They walked into the room, and scampered about it.

“Found them,” pointed Baubler to some cabinets.

They were labeled, “USA - nice,” “USA - naughty,” “USSR - nice, USSR - naughty.”

Baubler nodded. “Now we know what they know.”

[lordroel]

Dec 3, 2017 22:32:29 GMT spanishspy said:

“Found them,” pointed Baubler to some cabinets.

They were labeled, “USA - nice,” “USA - naughty,” “USSR - nice, USSR - naughty.”

Wonder who naughty cabinets are bigger, the USA ore USSR.

[spanishspy]

Dec 4, 2017 3:49:13 GMT lordroel said:

Dec 3, 2017 22:32:29 GMT spanishspy said:

“Found them,” pointed Baubler to some cabinets.

They were labeled, “USA - nice,” “USA - naughty,” “USSR - nice, USSR - naughty.”

Wonder who naughty cabinets are bigger, the USA ore USSR.

That's a good question.

[lordroel]

Dec 4, 2017 5:09:23 GMT spanishspy said:

Dec 4, 2017 3:49:13 GMT lordroel said:

Wonder who naughty cabinets are bigger, the USA ore USSR.

That's a good question.

I asume that those cabinets are magical.

[spanishspy]

Dec 4, 2017 10:46:04 GMT lordroel said:

Dec 4, 2017 5:09:23 GMT spanishspy said:

That's a good question.

I asume that those cabinets are magical.

Not necessarily.

[lordroel]

Dec 4, 2017 23:57:42 GMT spanishspy said:

Dec 4, 2017 10:46:04 GMT lordroel said:

I asume that those cabinets are magical.

Not necessarily.

Because if those cabinets are not magical, then they must be very big as there are a lot of naughty people living in both countries, with one more than the other.

[spanishspy]

Dec 5, 2017 4:07:43 GMT lordroel said:

Dec 4, 2017 23:57:42 GMT spanishspy said:

Not necessarily.

Because if those cabinets are not magical, then they must be very big as there are a lot of naughty people living in both countries, with one more than the other.

My intention was that they were very big, yes. 

[lordroel]

Dec 5, 2017 4:46:08 GMT spanishspy said:

Dec 5, 2017 4:07:43 GMT lordroel said:

Because if those cabinets are not magical, then they must be very big as there are a lot of naughty people living in both countries, with one more than the other.

My intention was that they were very big, yes. 

A oaky.

[spanishspy]

Baubler took the keys and fiddled with them to find one that would open the first of many containers labeled "USSR - nice." He opened up the drawer, expecting meticulously written records.

He found pieces of paper going right down into the depths of the drawer, and there was a whole warehouse room full of drawers. He picked one up. He expected names and addresses.

He got one with several little numbers written on it, with a row of '1' then '2' and so on and so forth for each of the numerals. One digit per column was punctured.

"Do you have the records we wanted?" asked Baubler's second-in-command, Watson Poleman.

Baubler seethed. "I suppose," he said as his voice trailed off.

That's when his compatriots knew that their leader was angry.

"They are records, yes. But they're punch cards."

Silence from his allies. "Does that mean we will need a computer?"

"Yes. We will."

"Is there any that we could use? And if so, would they read the cards?"

"Only one I know of here is in Claus' compound," spat Baubler. He raged at himself. He hadn't thought this through. He hadn't considered this method of recordkeeping. He thought he could just skedaddle off with the records and go about his business.

He looked around. He thought.

"Clearly, I overestimated how much we can take. That being said, we can make our lives easier if we only focus on the Bolsheviks. Take everything you can from the Soviet boxes, and make sure they are divided between naughty and nice. We will have to improvise from here on out."

"But what are we to do?" asked one of his compatriots.

Baubler thought hard. He knew that at this very moment the North Pole security forces were descending upon the Stocking.

He turned to his cohort. "Get the phone in the main office and call our agents in the factories. They know what to do."

...

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

They shook the foundations of Santa Claus' house. The sirens began wailing.

The jolly old man himself was in his office. He could tell his compound had not been hit. The explosions were in the distance, but they could be felt here.

He opened his cabinet and grabbed the loaded rifle he kept there. After his previous encounters with humans he was not willing to risk anything.

He left through the exit at the end of the small hall. His secretary and deputy, Cornelius Candycane, was there to brief him.

"I got a call from the defense forces. General Bellringer has told me that there have been explosions at three different toy factories, and a holdup at the Stocking. Something about entering the records rooms."

Claus had no inkling that that sort of element was here up on the North Pole. "I'll go to the Stocking. Come with me."

"As you wish."

The two of them made their way to the stable. The reindeer had heard the noise and as such were ready to pull the sleigh. And, as was there since the recent state of emergency, the machine gun was mounted near the reins. It was leftover from the big war, yes, but dead elves don't argue with lead.

[lordroel]

Dec 6, 2017 3:02:58 GMT spanishspy said:

Baubler took the keys and fiddled with them to find one that would open the first of many containers labeled "USSR - nice." He opened up the drawer, expecting meticulously written records.

He found pieces of paper going right down into the depths of the drawer, and there was a whole warehouse room full of drawers. He picked one up. He expected names and addresses.

He got one with several little numbers written on it, with a row of '1' then '2' and so on and so forth for each of the numerals. One digit per column was punctured.

"Do you have the records we wanted?" asked Baubler's second-in-command, Watson Poleman.

Baubler seethed. "I suppose," he said as his voice trailed off.

That's when his compatriots knew that their leader was angry.

"They are records, yes. But they're punch cards."

Silence from his allies. "Does that mean we will need a computer?"

"Yes. We will."

"Is there any that we could use? And if so, would they read the cards?"

"Only one I know of here is in Claus' compound," spat Baubler. He raged at himself. He hadn't thought this through. He hadn't considered this method of recordkeeping. He thought he could just skedaddle off with the records and go about his business.

He looked around. He thought.

"Clearly, I overestimated how much we can take. That being said, we can make our lives easier if we only focus on the Bolsheviks. Take everything you can from the Soviet boxes, and make sure they are divided between naughty and nice. We will have to improvise from here on out."

"But what are we to do?" asked one of his compatriots.

Baubler thought hard. He knew that at this very moment the North Pole security forces were descending upon the Stocking.

He turned to his cohort. "Get the phone in the main office and call our agents in the factories. They know what to do."

...

*BANG* *BANG* *BANG*

They shook the foundations of Santa Claus' house. The sirens began wailing.

The jolly old man himself was in his office. He could tell his compound had not been hit. The explosions were in the distance, but they could be felt here.

He opened his cabinet and grabbed the loaded rifle he kept there. After his previous encounters with humans he was not willing to risk anything.

He left through the exit at the end of the small hall. His secretary and deputy, Cornelius Candycane, was there to brief him.

"I got a call from the defense forces. General Bellringer has told me that there have been explosions at three different toy factories, and a holdup at the Stocking. Something about entering the records rooms."

Claus had no inkling that that sort of element was here up on the North Pole. "I'll go to the Stocking. Come with me."

"As you wish."

The two of them made their way to the stable. The reindeer had heard the noise and as such were ready to pull the sleigh. And, as was there since the recent state of emergency, the machine gun was mounted near the reins. It was leftover from the big war, yes, but dead elves don't argue with lead.

Santa with a gun, now that is something i would love to see.

[stevep]

Just to clarify please, is Livingston Baubler an elf, and human or something else? Since it mentions only a few elves knew about the Stocking I was assuming that no non-elves would know but that could be wrong.

[spanishspy]

Dec 6, 2017 12:29:37 GMT stevep said:

Just to clarify please, is Livingston Baubler an elf, and human or something else? Since it mentions only a few elves knew about the Stocking I was assuming that no non-elves would know but that could be wrong.

He is an elf. Elves here have Christmas-themed last names, and 'Bauble' is an older word for a Christmas tree ornament. The first names are either Roman or aristocratic-sounding (to an American) British names.