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     Smitty was shaking the next present trying to determine it's contents when the light came on.  He glanced up from where he was kneeling and saw a lovely blonde woman at the foot of the stairs. Startled, he nearly toppled over, grabbing a nearby tree branch for support.  The spruce tree wobbled greatly, and several ornaments fell to the floor.  As a final indignity, as he stood, a ceramic angel tree topper fell down and shattered at his feet.
     The woman gasped.
     "Oh, shit," Smitty muttered, grabbing his pack and glancing around for a quick exit.  Originally he would have gone back up the chimney, but he needed to get out of here now.  Spotting a window, he moved for it.  Well, he tried.
     Smitty's legs seemed petrified, and as he tried to move, he realized his whole body was as well.  Looking back at the woman, she had her hand extended toward him and a look of fury in her eyes.
     "That tree topper has been in my family for generations.  I could almost forgive you for trying to steal our presents, but such blatant disregard for property cannot go unpunished," she said, making grandiose gestures as she moved toward him across the living room.
     He tried to protest, but nearly every muscle in his body was frozen, save for his eyes it seemed.
     She stepped up in front of him and regarded his appearance.
     "Santa Claus, really?  And I guess you came down the ..." she started, glancing at the fireplace and noticing the soot spread everywhere.  Her features only hardened.
     With a snap of her fingers, his body popped to attention, dropping the bag by his side.  She started making more sweeping gestures with her hands and seemed to be whispering something.  His body got all tingly and he could feel his flesh crawling.
     The fake beard and wig seemed to evaporate into nothing while the red suit turned white.  The uncomfortable black boots vanished, seemingly replaced with flip flops.  He felt a tickle on the back of his neck and blonde hair dropped in front of his face.
     The woman snapped her fingers again and Smitty was suddenly able to move again.  Staggering, he pulled the long hair out of his eyes and looked down as the dirty Santa suit melted away into a long robe, and the black belt was replaced with a golden rope.
     Pain suddenly shot through his back as he watched a pair of magnificent white wings grow up from his shoulder blades, folding just before touching the ceiling.  He could feel them, and flexed them slightly, bumping the tree again.
     "Angel?" he said, his scruffy voice replaces with a soft tenor.
     "Yup," the woman said, lifting her fingers at him.  His arms splayed out to his sides, palms up and his head was stuck so he had to look down his nose at her.
     "What are you ... Doing?" Smitty struggled to say, his body not responding to his commands again.
     She giggled. "Isn't it obvious?  You're going to replace what you have broken," she said.
     Then the room slowly seemed to get bigger, and the woman started to get taller.  Soon Smitty wasn't looking down at her at all, but up as she seemed to become 30 feet tall.  Then his skin became hard and cold, and his legs formed into a plastic cone that came down from his waist.
     She stepped closer and reached down, picking him up in her massive hand.  He felt like he was flying as she lifted him up and placed him gently on top of the tree.  She fiddled with something he couldn't see, and suddenly a light glowed above his head.  It was a halo that blinked on and off.
     "There, now you can think about what you've done and watch the happy family who's Christmas you almost ruined," she said as she floated back down to the floor.
     Smitty watched, unmoving as she waved her arms, causing the bag and the soot to disappear before replacing the presents under the tree.