"HOLY CRAP IS THAT SANTA?!" Pinkie screamed as a jolly ol' fella slipped down the chimney.
"Ho ho ho,"
Anon Skinny Green Not-Old-At-All Santa deadpanned, "Merry Christmas."
Pinkie paused, reading over the above line in this chapter. "Wait a minute..." she began, "Isn't that the description of the Grinch?"
"Eh, who cares?!" Pinkie squealed, pulling Santanon in for a hug, "Ooh, can I deliver presents with you?!"
Pinkie's eyes widened.
"Can I be the presents???"
"UHHHHHHHHHHHMMM..." Anon mumbled, fumbling for his list (written by Twilight, of course) on what was allowed and what wasn't during his time as Santa.
Pinkie snatched the list, speed-reading through the entire thing at a pace that would've left Twilight in the dust.
"Ooh, it doesn't say that I can't..." she smirked slyly, creeping towards the fireplace. "Let's have some fun, shall we?"
And that was how reality broke. Again.