Written in today’s session (alongside a chunk of my dissertation #lastminute)
It wasn’t every day that a monk wanders down the hill screaming about escaped reindeer. The monks were meant to be hidden away, safe in their isolation, but apparently losing Rudolph was enough to change all that.
“He’s not just a reindeer, he’s our mascot,” the monk explained, panting heavily as he leaned forward and tried to catch his breath.
“Get a new mascot? It’s not as if there aren’t plenty of reindeer in the forests around here. Might even be a few mongoose if you look around.”
“It’s not a reindeer we need, it’s that reindeer.”
“Has it got a red nose?”
“This isn’t a Christmas carol, it’s bloody serious,” the monk said, straightening up and staring at the man in front of him. A short, stout man who looked like he’d had far too much to drink and couldn’t possibly understand the significance of the reindeer.
“You don’t sound like a monk,” the man replied, jabbing a finger in the monk’s direction.