I've spent a lot of time over the years waiting for trains. Occasionally, when I glance at a station clock, the first second of that glance seems to take ages. When the clock ticks to the next second, time seems to catch up with itself and the seconds tick by normally.
Maybe this is just me being cynical - after all, the train companies are known for delays! - but it got me thinking. What might happen in that long second? So here's an idea with a slight Christmas feel ...
Search for "The Physics of Santa Claus" for some interesting information.
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A corporate board room ...
The representatives of the top five toy, game and leisure companies gathered around a long, glossily polished conference table. These were powerful individuals, who controlled the hopes and dreams of every child on the planet. They did not like to be kept waiting and Mr Smith had kept them waiting for over half an hour.
"This is ridiculous," growled the chairman of Mattel, Inc. He made to leave but, at that very second, the double doors at the far end of the boardroom opened.
Standing there was a small, young-looking man, wearing a dark green suit, red shirt and green tie. His blond hair was cut short and his ears were quite definitely pointed. Smith smiled politely. "Ladies and gentlemen, I apologise for keeping you waiting. It's the Devil's own business getting the sleigh parked around here!"
Smith waited for the laughs but they didn't come. Oh well. To business, he thought.
"As you are all aware, we are in the run-up to the most joyous time of year. Children the world over are being as good as they possibly can be, writing their lists and posting them to the North Pole. Some even write several lists - I know because my team double checks each one - to try and sneak extra presents past their parents. These children, of course, end up on the Naughty List." Again, no laughs from the assembled CEOs. Damn they're a tough audience, Smith thought.
"Naughty or Nice doesn't really matter at this time. We all know our good and bad points. What we're here to talk about," the elf went on, "is delivery."
"Hogwash," blurted Mattel. "We all know it's the parents who do all the buying, wrapping and delivery. Your boss is merely a front-man. A figurehead. Has been for over 2000 years. We rule Christmas." He looked around the table for support and saw nods from Hasbro, Parker Brothers and even Sony.
"Not for much longer. You see, Mr Claus has decided to re-assert his authority and legal rights on the issue. This," Smith produced a roll of parchment from thin air, "is the original agreement." He unrolled the scroll and slid it onto the conference table. "As you can see, it was signed in Bethlehem by the Three Wise Men - the original gift bringers - and Mr Claus. He has inalienable rights to the delivery process."
Sony spoke up next. "That document is out-of-date rubbish. Our legal teams will tear it to shreds and Mr Claus won't have a leg to stand on."
Smith ignored the outburst. He had expected this from the company whose last original idea had been over ten years ago. He continued smoothly, gazing at the placid, and rather attractive, face of the Parker Brothers representative. She looked almost as perfect as one of their products. "Delivery is rather a two way process, don't you think? Goods get sent from one place and arrive at their destination. Of course, there are some time delays between despatch and receipt, but they are built in to the process. Have been for millennia."
"It doesn't take magic to move all that product," Mattel sneered. "It takes bloody hard work and a logistics chain that spans the world. One fat guy in a sleigh can't compete with our resources."
"Oh, but magic can compete," Smith replied. "Compete and grind your logistics and supply chains into the slush."
"We've all seen the physics, Mr Smith." When Parker Brothers spoke, her voice was almost musical, as perfect as the voice recordings her products used. "The speed required to deliver all in one night is impossible to achieve. The friction alone would be enough to turn the reindeer into Blitzen-burgers," the other directors sniggered at that.
Smith fumed inwardly. How could she raise a laugh when his best lines had failed miserably? He rallied well, however. "You haven't seen all the physics, Ms Parker. In fact, there exists a branch of physics even Professor Hawking would have difficulty understanding."
"Here we go," muttered Mattel, "bluff and swagger will not get us to surrender our market dominance."
The boardroom clocks, which showed the time in seven different cities world wide, clicked to thirty-six seconds.
Smith examined his fingernails for a moment. "Have you ever noticed," he said to no-one in particular, "how when you glance at a clock, that first second seems to take longer than the rest? How that second seems to stretch before the rest of time runs to catch up? No?" He looked up at the assembled directors who stared blankly back. "Imagine, if you can, how much could be accomplished in Just One Second."
The boardroom clocks clicked to thirty-seven seconds. As the clocks ticked to thirty-eight seconds, every mobile phone in the room started ringing. Warehouses in seven different timezones had been emptied in a split second.
"Delivery, as I said, is a two way process. Goods are received at their destinations but their sources are left empty. All in Just One Second."
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