Somewhere along the line my kids have come up with the idea that Santa Claus, giver of gifts and generally kind person, is also a figure to be feared.
I've always told them Santa is a program, running on a supercomputer buried beneath the north polar ice cap. The computer downloads a limited 'self' into 360 robot simulacra (one for each degree of longitude) (or is it latitude?) (no, I'm pretty sure it's longitude), ok, anyways, 360 robots. And they all run hither and yon. Possibly even helter skelter. Across their slice of the globe delivering pressies to unwitting sleepers.
So how, I ask, do my kids insist Santa eats sleeping children (unless of course their father is waiting, watching, ready to use his Venusian Judo).