dasher and prancer and stitches and trauma

I never did ask about the quantity of cheese our factory produces. Someone was in Richard’s nook before me and accidentally called him Richard Marzipan. Bad scene. You would think the number of sharp implements in a cheese factory would be limited, but Marzipan is the guy who pulls foreign objects out of the vats, so yeah, he had a collection of pointy bits. Mispronouncing guy had to get a bunch of stitches and was sent home early. I just went back to work.

It’s not really very jolly around there. People don’t care about Mild Cheddar in the holiday season so our work goes on rather pointlessly. There’s one person wearing the mandatory elf hat (with bells), but I think it was more a punishment than an eruption of festive spirit. I haven’t asked. Le sigh.

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