Martin flopped into bed. The sheets engulfing him and dispelling whirling thoughts of litigations.
"Did you put the milk and cookies out?" Sarah asked "Timmy will be devastated if you haven't.
"All sorted" Martin lied.
An empty glass and a few sprinkled crumbs and Timmy wouldn't know the difference.
Santa was furious. Somehow these short-lived mortals kept the memory of their deal alive, binding him with libations through guest rights that no Fae could break. Although perhaps not here. Santa smirked as he spotted the bare kitchen counter. He stalked towards the child's bedroom, licking his lips all the way.