Jeb was sick of it all, the music, the festivities, the bullshit.
“Well I guess it’s not bullshit, not in that way.” Jeb said quietly to himself. Jeb was 243 years old, and ended up as an immortal thanks to what the modern world called dyslexia.

When he was 15, right on the cusp of disbelief when it came to things like Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, but he still wrote a letter with his little sister…

[Year 1794, the new nation of America]

“Jebbadiah, come write with me!” Sarah called out excitedly.

“I’m too old for that.” Jebbadiah said, smiling at his younger sister.

“Oh please!” Sarah said, looking up at him from where she lay on the floor next to the mantle in the shadows of twilight. “Please write with me Jebbadiah.”

From the other room where the glow of a candle indicated someone’s presence, the sound of their mother’s voice called out. “Oh, just write with her Jebbadiah. Both of you are going to bed here soon anyway, otherwise Santa won’t come.”

Jebbadiah rolled his eyes and plopped down onto the floor next to Sarah who yelled excitedly. “Yay! Now let’s write our letters.”
For the next twenty minutes, they both wrote their letters, each asking for different things. Sarah asked for their father to be healed from a cough which had been plaguing him recently, and for a new dress for church days. Jebbadiah asked for his very own musket so he could help provide for his mother and sister, and he also asked for his mother and sister to never worry about him.

They both finished and put their letters into envelopes as their mother came in to usher them to bed. “Be sure to address them!” She said and both children hastily scrawled ‘Santa’ on the envelopes before noddingto each other and tossing the letters into the fire so they would be delivered to Old Saint Nick.

[Later that night]
A swirl of silver light rushed out of the hearth and spun itself into a portly man wearing furs dyed white and red. “Ho, Ho, Ho, what do we have here.”

The man waved his hand over the cooling ashes of the fire and two letters seemed to unburn themselves and fly up to his waiting hand. “Ah! Sarah and Jebbadiah, they both wrote me a letter…” His voice trailed off.

On the letter bearing the more effeminate script was a hastily written name. His name, Santa. But on the letter scribed in the more practiced yet crude letters was a name that was so very close to Santa. Jebbadiah had swapped a few letters, an innocent enough mistake when you were not dealing with the divine.

Without missing a beat, Santalooked over Sarah’s letter and reached to his side, his hand seeming to vanish from reality and when he pulled it back there was a pretty blue dress which he left hanging from the hearth. Then he pocketed Jebbadiah’s letter, and went on about his night, fading away once more to a stream of silver light.
The entire interaction had taken roughly a thousandth of a second. And in the next thousandth, Santa was materializing in the next house. Several hours later, still deep in the dead of night, Santa had finished his year’s work and materialized somewhere that his red furs were incredibly out of place.

The demons of hell were unaccustomed to other divines coming to visit, but they knew enough of the strange divine known as Santa that they stayed out of his way. As Santa strolled through the depths of hell, catching glimpses of souls in the midst of their eternal torment, he shook his head at the various things he saw and walked through the brimstone gilded doors of the only office in all of Hell.

“Hello, Lucifer.” Santa said with a smile.

“Ah, Saint Nick. Here to torment me more for doing what my father told me?” Lucifer said somewhat angrily.

“You know I am not affiliated with your father, the saint thing is, a by-product.” Santa paused. “Regardless, I am simply here to deliver a letter as per the rules of offerings to the divines.”

As he said this, Santa reached into his pocket and pulled the letter out. On the front in those mixed up letters, was the name ‘Satan’ and the letter had been properly offered and burned.

Lucifer looked to the letter, confused, then to Santa. “Is this a trick?”

“No, simply a delivery.” Santa said reassuringly handing Lucifer the letter. “Well there you go, lots to do for next year, have a very merry Christmas!” Santa proceeded to vanish from Hell.

The Devil, once favored son of God, and ruler of the divine plane referred to as Hell, conjured a chair and sat to read the letter. After a moment he chuckled. “Oh, Jebbadiah, your wish is my command.”

Lucifer stood and snapped his fingers, finding himself in a small room with a cot-like bed and a young boy sleeping on it. After a moment the boy awakened, the temperature in the room rising as heat rolled off the Devil in waves.

“Hey, what's goin’ on? That you Sarah?” Jebbadiah said, and then his eyes fell upon the visage of evil standing beside his bed. Jebbadiah’s eyes widened as he shot to his feet and moved as if he was going to jump out the window.

The Devil smiled, and snapped his fingers and suddenly both he and the boy were in chairs which had sprung from the floor, and struggle as he might, Jebbadiah could not rise. When he finally relaxed, the Devil spoke. “You have written me a letter asking for two things. But it does not feel right to simply grant you a wish and be done. So instead, I will make you a deal. Starting this Christmas and going forward, you and I will meet, and we will have a fine meal. And in return for your time and energy you will receive three things. First, once you reach the age of 25, you will no longer age. Second, you will never die. And third, I will provide you with one thing of your asking at the end of the meal on Christmas. Do you accept my deal?”

The Devil proffered his hand and Jebbadiah was shocked. He had heard the tales and warnings in the bible denouncing the deals of the Devil. And here he was receiving an offer from the Devil himself, all while waving about the letter Jebbadiah had penned to Santa earlier that night. The Devil caught the look of confusion and went on to explain how The Divine Realms were incredibly strict when it came to names and the such.
“So let me get this straight, I misspelled Santa, and now Satan is sitting in my room?” Jebbadiah asked, his brain failing to understand everything. “Why would you show up for that!?”

“Yep pretty much.” Satan said, looking around the room. “And as far as why I am here, do you know how many times people attempt to summon me to do terrible things to other people?” A LOT! So the fact that a 15-year-old kid wants me to fulfill his Christmas wish is a big deal to me. Especially since you are the only one who has managed to summon me properly. “

Satan could see the hesitation on Jebbadiah’s face. “Look, say yes or no, doesn’t really bother me either way, I will give you a weapon as you asked, even if you decline my deal. Just, you know, make up your mind. I have a lot to do if we are not doing this deal.”

Jebbadiah thought about it and then agreed. “I will take your deal.”

“Good!” The Devil said, smiling wickedly, and shaking hands with Jebbadiah before snapping his fingers. A table laden with a feast fit for kings and gods appeared between them. They ate and talked, each topic more normal than what Jebbadiah would have expected, but when it was concluded, the Devil snapped and the table and chairs vanished, and in their place was a long musket shaped parcel. The Devil looked sad as he spoke before vanishing. “Merry Christmas Jebbadiah, I will see you next year.”

“To you too!” Jebbadiah said, crawling back into bed and falling asleep.

[Present day]

That is how it went for nearly two centuries. Christmas would come, Jebbadiah would eat and talk with Satan and then he would receive a gift. On the year that Jebbadiah, shortened to Jeb once the name fell out of favor, turned 200 he learned something from the Devil and had decided to act on it. So for the last forty-three years, Jeb had used his annual gift to work on his end goal. And this year was to be the year of fruition.

“It’s not bullshit in any way really.” Jeb said to himself and turned around, just in time to see Satan rise from the floor. “Hey Lucifer, how is it going?”

“Oh, fine, just more of the same. Things don’t really change in Hell.” Lucifer said.

“That makes an odd sort of sense.” Jeb said, thinking for a moment about all he had learned of Hell. “Tell you what, why don’t I give you my gift first?”

“Oh, this is new, you getting me a gift?” Lucifer said. “It won’t change the terms of our bargain.”

“ I know.” Jeb said and walked over to the door and opened it, revealing a glowing being. “Please come in.”

Into the home that Jeb owned, strolled God, father of Lucifer and current ruler of reality. “Hello, Lucifer.”

Lucifer seemed to be choking on air. “Hi, Dad.”

Jeb turned to Lucifer. “The gift that I ask from you tonight is that you enjoy a meal with your father. I'll be back in a few hours.” Jeb walked out and made his way to a local twenty-four hour cafe and got a bite to eat before walking the city streets with their bright lights and subtle noises.

After a few hours, Jeb found himself back at his door. He knocked gently just to give some warning and then opened the door to find Lucifer sitting in a contemplative posture at the table. “So, how did it go?” Jeb asked hesitantly.

“Oh, we yelled at each other for an hour then ate in silence and he left without saying anything.” Lucifer said, his tone neutral.

Jeb flinched. “I’m Sorry.”

“Well whatever. We are good right?” Lucifer asked, and Jeb nodded, watching Lucifer melt into the floor.

“Shit, I think I fucked up.” Jeb said out loud to the room.

“No, I don’t think you did.” A jolly voice said from behind him.

Jeb whirled to find Santa sitting in a chair beside the fireplace as it crackled happily. “Well, well, haven’t seen you in a while. What do you mean I didn’t fuck up?”

“I mean,” Santa said looking Jeb in the eyes, “that those two had more positive conversation than Lucifer let on, and more conversation in general than they have had in the last thousand millennia. What you did was deeply appreciated by both of them. Not that either of them will ever admit it.”

Jeb chuckled. “I suppose you are right.” Jeb shrugged and looked down at the table of untouched food that Lucifer had left behind. “Do you care to join me Santa?”

“Of course, I would love to!” Santa said with a jolly smile taking the seat that Lucifer usually sat in. They ate and talked for several hours, before Santa stood and spoke once more. “I thank you for the dinner, Jeb.”

“You are welcome. I thank you for eating with me.” Jeb said, “Merry Christmas Santa.”

“Merry Christmas to you too, Jeb.” Santa said before disappearing into the air, off to spread joy and cheer to everyone.