A hoof banged on the bar. “Hit me again, Joe.” “Don’t you think you’ve had enough for one night, pal?” the bartender replied coolly. “I can smell the nut meg on your breath from here.” “Hey, my nose always is always red,” Rudolph snorted back. “I can handle my egg nog.” “Something bothering you, Rudy?” The reindeer lowered his dewy eyes to the bar. “Sorry, Joe. It’s the holiday, you know? Sometimes, it just gets me down. All this rampant commercialism, the runaway materialism. I mean, where’s it going to end?" “Isn’t your attitude a little hypocritical, Rudolph? You know, given where you came from.” “What are you talking about?” the reindeer snorted. His nose momentarily flared bright red in the smoky dimness of the bar, as if inflamed by his annoyance. The bartender considered his next words carefully. “You know about Montgomery Wards, right? The department store? Some copywriter there made you up for a giveaway booklet back in ‘39.” “What is this? Some kind of
