Customer Service Hotline

Chad absentmindedly tapped his fingers on the mousepad, while listening to a horrible rendition of O, Holy Night by who he could only assume were Alvin and The Chipmunks when the impish voice came back on the phone. "Thank you for holding, Mr. Brooks. I've double checked our database, and there's no mistaking it. You received what you'd asked for."

Chad tried to stay calm. "I couldn't have been more clear when I asked the fat man for a bazillion dollars."

"Mr. Brooks, 'bazillion' is not a word," said the customer service representative with a slight irritation in her voice. "That would probably explain why he may have misunderstood your request."

"It's an expression for a lot of money!" Chad yelled, gripping his cellular phone a little more tightly than necessary. "Wait, why am I dealing with you? I demand to speak with Santa right now!"

"Listen, pal," the lady began, "Firstly, he's sleeping right now, and will probably be asleep for a couple of weeks as he's had a pretty busy month. Secondly, you got yourself a free gift, so get over it. And, lastly, I don't care who you are but no one talks to me that way. Good day!"

Chad heard the unmistakable click that ended the call, snapped his phone shut, and sighed. A tap on his left shoulder made him look in that direction, and was met by the inquiring gaze from the man who introduced himself as Professor Jose Eduardo Tavares Silva promptly after stepping out of the large crate that was delivered to Chad's door that morning. He simply shook his head, pined gloomily for the bazillion dollars he was hoping to receive, and wondered what in the world he would do with a Brazilian scholar.


First Place in 12/16/07 Daily Flash Fiction Contest
Prompt: The prompt is: Santa got it wrong, I asked for a [fill in the blank] for Christmas, not a [fill in the blank]. Fill in the these blanks with what words Santa got confused.
Word Count: 294