People wonder where you are every hour every

then you wake up. Ha ha ha! Being able to control dreams is fun. "Uuughhh" you say. Yep. Back to your ordinarily insignificant little life. Rise and go back to your routine of

bagger at Safeway. But then you realize you are a fictional character, subject to the whims of omnipitent writer. You take off your name tag, grab two bottles of beer and jump!

& fall into a gaping hole in the plot! You should have read more carefully! The writer is omniPITENT which means he gets paid a pittance to write shody typo-ridden safeway jingles

-anta Claus would give him a lump of coal for. Yes Santa was a Literature Snob. Since the poem about him, he considered himself a true

god that should be worshiped by everyone leaving out cookies and milk, not just on Christmas Eve, but on every night of the year. That way he could get SUPER FAT. "HO HO HO!"

This was the easiest religion since buddha. Buddha had required sitting under a tree all day, which could get uncomfortable after a few hours. Leaving out cookies and milk was no

problem for the old man to do, as he had plenty of time on his hands. However, he did prefer to practise his jam-making techniques if he did have spare time. His Grand-daughter

begged him to take her with him when he went "berry picking". He always came back with very dirty hands and scratches on his face. Grandpa wasn't talking. His jam was different,

meaner, uglier. Grampa's jam had a life of its own. And she realized to her horror where her grandmother had gone off to all this time. Math didn't add up. That was only the start.