1 Santa is always portrayed as a big man in the midwest, and the beard must be real.  At the age of 7, the Santa On The Square was suitably impressive yet scary; I found out years later he widely considered the town drunk.  But it was that year that my fear of Christmas began, which would only be cured after years of soft therapy by my wife.

As the assisted (aiding and abetting?) Elf lifted me onto Santa's lap, the giant "ho, ho, ho'd" to the assembled crowd, then dipped his head close to my ear and whispered, "There will be no survivors.  Tell no one."

My eyes went wide, my mouth opened wider, and the tears slowly began to fall.  It was a poorly conceived practical joke to play on a child; when I was finally able to shared the story much later in life, it inevitably brings uproarious laughter.  But to my seven-year-old self, this was the most horrifying thing that had ever happened to me.

Santa wisely slid me off his lap, handed me a candy cane, and wished me a Merry Christmas.  Late on December 24th, wild with paranoia, my mother told me St. Nick wouldn't come if I stayed awake.  God, did I try.  When I awoke at 5:30 AM, I ran screaming through to house to make sure my sister and parents were still alive.  Running through the living room, I was instantly relieved to see no additional presents placed since the previous evening.  (Santa-given gifts were rare and expensive, I figured out why a few months later.)

My parents completely misunderstood my behavior.  But the incident prompted deep, desperate thought within me; leading to the loss of my innocence.  In more ways than one.

2 It's a YULE TIDE!

3 Hmmm...No Santas, but in the first Age of Wonders game, you could have battles between dire penguins and elves...