One Sick Christmas "Hustle just a bit Joe! It's 10:15, your fifteen minutes late!" Claire shouted from outside the changing area with a clue of a New York Accent. Claire was Santa's assistant at the shopping center. "I'm impending!" Joe shouted back. "Doltish children, I loathe kids." Joe murmured to himself while getting himself dressed. Joe was the Santa at the neighborhood shopping center. Since Joe had recently been discharged from the mental establishment for madness, the expense of the organization wiped him out of cash so he required the occupation seriously. At the point when the employment was offered to him he needed to take it. Joe was a lean man. Not your typical Santa Clause. He had no ruddy cheeks or round tummy, he didn't have the generous giggle nor genuine white hair. His ribsjabbed out of his skin and his stomach resembled an unfilled cavern. His eyes were pushed into hishead way more than a great many people, the dull rings orbiting his made his eyes seem asthough they were going to pop out any second. The bones of his cheeks demonstrated through his dry, pale skin making him resemble a zombie.