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Uncle Christmas is based on a character invented by Wicked Uncle, home of brilliant presents.

The Great Christmas Delivery
The 5th Uncle Christmas story. Read by me, Richard, for Storynory.

Story by Bertie.
Read by Richard.
Proofread and audio edited by Jana Elizabeth.
Uncle Christmas Story by Wicked Uncle - backdrop of houses by Shutterstock.

Now I don’t want to give away too many secrets about Father Christmas, because that might destroy some of his magical mystery, but in order to tell the story, I do have to explain a few things.

Even though Father Christmas travels incredibly fast in his sleigh, he can’t deliver the entire world’s presents anymore. He used to, in days gone by, but now we are getting on for 8 billion people in the world, it’s just impossible to do it all on his own. Stubborn though he is, he has had to recruit elves to help him in his vast task. It’s also true that many modern houses lack chimneys, and even in the old ones, many of the chimneys have been blocked up. Father Christmas and his elves resort to coming in through the window, and if the window is locked, they have to use a jemmy to break it open. Of course a little magic fixes any damage after they have left, but technically, they are breaking the law, and sometimes unplanned things happen; like burglar alarms go off or dogs awake from their Christmas slumbers and go crazy. The whole business is a lot more risky than it used to be.

Which is why Uncle Christmas suggested some novel ideas to the head steward.

“Listen Dusty,” he said. “Why don’t we start the deliveries early this year? And what about this for a revolutionary, game changing plan? How about we ring the doorbell and deliver the presents like the civilised, law-abiding Vikings we are?”

“Because,” said Dusty, “the kids will see us, and they will open the presents early, and that will spoil the excitement of Christmas.”

“Not if we come when they are out,” said Uncle Christmas. “And not if we make the presents invisible until Christmas morning.”

“Well that won’t work,” protested Dusty.

“Why not?” asked Uncle Christmas. “Go on, lay it on me, where’s the fault in my logic this time?”

“The problem is,” said Dusty, “that it won’t work.” But he couldn’t think of a reason why it wouldn’t work. So Uncle Christmas’s plan won the day.

Half way through December, the elves set out from the desert in their new, souped-up sleighs. Most of them had magic motors fitted, and were even more up-to-date, pollution free, and speedy than Uncle Christmas’s own three-wheeled vehicle. A few had to make do with magic camel power, which was only a tad slower, but considerably more smelly.

They succeeded in delivering 75% of the presents before school broke up for the Christmas holidays. This was crucial to their plans because most of the kids were out at their lessons, and did not see the gifts arrive. For the smaller children, who weren’t yet at school, and might see them arrive, they hid the presents in a place behind a bush or a dustbin, and left a note for the parents. The presents vanished by magic as soon as they were put in a better hiding place like under the stairs or on top of Mum’s cupboard.

It was a good thing that they started early, because the whole business of ringing the doorbell proved to be much slower than sneaking in and out through the window.

Uncle Christmas also started to appreciate how complicated the whole business was. You had to deliver the presents in the right order, to avoid coming to a certain street in a certain city one day, and then returning a week later. And it was far more efficient if you could blitz an entire area in one go, but then you would get some late orders in and you’d have to return. And as they were coming along at street level, they had to put up with modern irritations like traffic jams, congestion charges, one way streets, parking restrictions, and weirdly numbered houses.

The worst thing that would happen is that they would deliver the wrong present to the wrong house and then have to come back again and exchange it for the right one.

Well that was the worst thing - until, on the 24th of December, Uncle Christmas met with an even bigger disaster. He was flying over Chukotka, which is in the north of Russia and not far from Alaska, when his motor trike broke down. He managed to land on the ice, but there was no way he could start it again. Even his magic spanner was no use because he had blown a gasket and all the magic mead that powered his engine had leaked out.

It was no use. He had to call the elf garage and ask them to send out a spare part. It was an annoyingly long wait - almost 7 minutes - before he heard the approaching rescue vehicle announce itself with tinkling sleigh bells.

“Humph,” he said to himself, “still stuck in the past aren’t we?”

But he was of course glad to know that he would soon be on his way. However, he was less pleased when he saw the face of his rescuer and the white beard and ruddy cheeks of his brother.

“Ho, ho, ho,” boomed Father Christmas. “Your magic trike has broken down has it? None of my reindeer have broken down. Not once. Not in two whole millennia.”

“Just give me the gasket and the fuel and let me get on my way,” said Uncle Christmas. “I’ve got a job to do, and I haven’t got time for all this smart talk.”

“Here you are!” said Father Christmas, “an early present!” And handed over the spare part wrapped in paper with a pink bow.

“Cheers bro,” said Uncle Christmas, and without further ado he fixed up the part, filled up the tank and went on his way.

It was 6 in the morning when he delivered the final present to an address in Paddington, Sydney. Under the old system, when everything was delivered just in time, Father Christmas started in Australia and worked his way North but following Uncle Christmas’s plan of beginning early, there was always the chance of a last minute order taking him on a final dash back down south, and that is exactly what happened.

By the time he got back home to his base in the Sahara, he found that the Ice Palace had melted in the desert sun. All the elves were fed up, and demanding a blast of freezing cold air.

“All right,” said Uncle Christmas. “You’ve all done magnificently, so your wish is granted. Me personally, would love to head for the beach, but you elves can have your way. We’ll celebrate Christmas Day in Siberia.”

And that’s what they did. But before they finally tucked into their Christmas lunch, Uncle Christmas had to find just one more present. It had to be an extra special present for an extra special person. Even a super-duper styrofoam gun or a collapsing pocket football would not do.It had to be something that was quite out of this world. Which is why he took the trike to a shop on the other side of the cosmos called ‘Wicked Alien’ where they sell radars that can pick up passenger jets and flying saucers and warn of a collision in time to take evasive action. He bought two, one for himself, and one for his brother, Father Christmas. So that even if he insisted on driving a two thousand year old sleigh, he wouldn’t risk a mid-air collision with a modern aircraft.

Father Christmas accepted the present with thanks and good grace, and in return gave his brother a giant hug and a bottle of Mead from Odin’s own cellar. And they both celebrated the best family Christmas they had enjoyed in centuries.
And that was ‘The Great Christmas Delivery’, the 5th Uncle Christmas story. Written by Bertie and read by me, Richard Scott for Storynory.com. And I'd just like to wish you all a very Merry Christmas!
See you next year!