Young Roodolf Iced in a Christmas Drive-by

In the Christmas season of 2004 Santa made his usual worldwide journey, distributing toys and lumps of coal, to those who had been naughty, nice, or affected by the fiscal austerity measures in his budget allocation.

On a pit-stop through Canberra, the reindeer found themselves drawn to a venue which, from the exterior, appeared  for all intents and purposes to cater for species similar to themselves (physically speaking; not phylogenetically): Mooseheads.

Several reindeer embibed liquid refreshments with labels which again were somewhat deceptive, such as “Little Creatures”, and subsequently felt themselves inspired to join in with the animal-themed song “Eagle rock” to which the local patrons demonstrated that the accepted dance move was to remove clothing garments below the waist.

Prancer busted out some fully sick dance moves and drew much applause (or as much as you could manage with cloven hooves), and Blitzen found himself eyeing off an intriguing young lass in the corner who stood on two legs. When he sidled over she introduced herself as Skippy, and he winked “Want to shout out with glee?”, and they soon adjourned to the sleigh parked out back, until Santa busted in, with accusations of “Ho! Ho! Ho!”.

The rest of the eve was a blur, with a somewhat haphazard route around the world crashing at one point near Bandah Aceh (which some news media have attributed to the earthquake, tsunami and mass devastation- a claim Mr Claus’ lawyers are calling slanderous and speculative; and will soon be lodging a counter-suit for defamation for photo-shopping Mr Claus’ head on a picture of a politician’s, albeit Christmassy coloured, solely speedo-clad physique).

Fast forward to November 2013; in fair Pialligo, where we lay our scene: from ancient grudge break to new mutiny; a pair of star-crossed lovers had once created a new life- for Skippy had found such a surprise some weeks later in her pouch, and named the child after both their houses: Roo-dolf.

Born not with the great power or knowledge of others of the house Baratheon, just the obvious physical traits of the crest of their house, poor Roodolf was vulnerable… and, tragically, assassinated.

….And so we investigate this calamity….

Was it the result of Satan Santa’s attempts to thwart all those who would defame his reputation?

 Was it the Lannister’s trying to eliminate all traces of any potential Baratheon heir to the Iron throne?

Or are the elves at the North-pole (or really Pyong-Yang?) master-minds running a sinister eugenics campaign… those without the powers of Wolverine only too obvious a target?