by G. ROBERT FRAZIER
FADE IN:
INT. HOUSE – NIGHT
Christmas Eve. Dark and quiet. Everyone’s asleep.
INT. MASTER BEDROOM – NIGHT
MAMA in her kerchief and PA in his cap had just settled down for a long winter’s nap.

INT. BEDROOM – NIGHT
A five-year-old girl, VIRGINIA, nestled all snug in her bed.
Visions of sugarplums dance in her head…
She smiles in her sleep…
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter…
Virginia bolts upright in bed to see what was the matter.
VIRGINIA: “Daddy?”
Silence.
No, wait. There it is again.
Something on the roof?
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof…
Virginia’s eyes widen.
VIRGINIA: “Santa!”
Virginia throws back her bed sheets and blankets, jumps into her fuzzy slippers, struggles to pull on her robe. Slowly opens the door…just a crack. Peers through.
Nothing.
She draws in a breath, slips into the darkened
HALLWAY
Ahead, a dim glow from the living room…
Virginia edges closer.
Pauses at her parents’ door.
Still asleep. Should she wake them?
She shakes her head. Purses her lips. Pushes on down the hallway into
THE LIVING ROOM
Virginia gasps.
Dozens of colorfully wrapped presents lie beneath the twinkling Christmas tree.
She tip-toes forward, kneels. Begins looking at labels for gifts with her name. Finds one. Gently shakes it.
And hears something behind her! Coming from the fireplace?
Virginia sets the gift aside, crawls over to the fireplace.
Dust and grime fall from the chute above.
Virginia blinks, stifles a sneeze. Stares more intently…and sees a black rubber boot sitting atop the ashes from last night’s fire!
She moves closer, tentatively reaches for the boot…and jumps back in shock!
A man’s voice echoes down to her from within the chimney.
VOICE: “Don’t go anywhere with that. I’ll need it.”
Virginia smiles excitedly.
Virginia slides closer, leans her head into the fireplace, twists her neck, stares up into the flue.
It’s dark, she can’t see anything…not even the night sky above.
Wait. What’s that? A shadow. A shape.
She knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
VIRGINIA: “Are you…stuck?”
THE MAN in the chimney laughs.
MAN: “Preposturous! Of course not, I’m — “
VIRGINIA: “You’re stuck! Oh my God! Santa’s in my chimney and he’s stuck! Oh my God! Mom! Dad! Santa’s in the chimney!”
MAN: “No, wait! Don’t — “
Virginia jumps to her feet, darts from the room.
VIRGINIA: “Mom! Dad! It’s Santa! He’s so fat he got stuck in the chimney!”
EXT. VIRGINIA’S HOUSE – A SHORT TIME LATER
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow gives the lustre of mid-day to objects below.
A fire truck, lights flashing, stops in front of Virginia’s two-story house. A dozen police cars and other fire trucks already line the small street.
A crowd — including Ma and Pa and Virginia, all bundled up from the cold — gazes at the
ROOF
— at a miniature sleigh and eight tiny reindeer.
— at several firefighters chipping away at the chimney’s with crowbars and hammers.
— at the chimney coming apart, brick by brick.
— at Santa, chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf, looking on in spite of himself.
FIREFIGHTER: “Almost there. We’ll have him out in a jiff.”
Santa sighs, clearly relieved.
His eyes — how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
FIREFIGHTER: “iif you don’t mind me asking…If you’re here, who’s in the chimney?”
Santa’s cheeks flush red like roses, his nose like a cherry.
SANTA (in a hoarse whisper): “My, uh, protege.”
FIREFIGHTER: “Your what?”
SANTA (louder): “My protege.”
The firefighter leans in to take a peek. Sees a man in a blue Santa suit staring up at them.The Blue Santa waves meekly.
Firefighter turns back to the real Santa, confused.
Santa shrugs.
SANTA: “Hard to find good help these days.”
BLUE SANTA’S POV
Stars twinkle in the night sky through the hole in the chimney. Santa’s cheery countenance leans in.
SANTA: “I told you, son, to put your finger aside your nose — not in it — and up the chimney you’ll go.”
Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!
FADE OUT