“You want another loan increase?” the bewildered banker exclaimed. “Mr. Claus, even if we ignore the fact that you built your bloated factory on the Arctic Ocean—”
“No taxes there,” Santa explained.
“You give your merchandise away for free! I don’t know how you keep getting approved for credit, but no more. And unless you start making some payments, your assets will be seized and sold to the public.”
“You mean assets like—my naughty list?” Santa jiggled with a soft chuckle.
“Just remembering what I read about you on there.”
The rubber stamp came down. “Loan approved!”