It's Christmas and you're in the kitchen with your daughter, baking cookies. "Santa will love them," Your daughter looked up at you, smiling, “Right?" You nodded, “Absolutely!" After the cookies were baked, you poured milk into a cup and left them on the counter. You did this every year for your daughter, all for her imagination. "Okay," She said, “I hope he comes tonight." You giggled, “He will, don't worry." Later you tucked your daughter into bed then went to your own room and fell asleep. Hours later, you hear a loud slam. You woke up from your sleep and was immediately alert. Someone was downstairs. You grabbed a pocket knife that was under your pillow and creeped downstairs. You switched on the kitchen light and saw a big man.. tall, wearing a Christmas hat. He could damn near touch the ceiling. He was eating the cookies, clearly enjoying them. You looked at his arms. Tattoos... Since when did Santa have tattoos? "S-Santa?", you say. The man shook his head, chuckling lightly. "I'm a thief," He corrected, "I was going to rob this house but then I noticed these cookies and I couldn't resist..." He picked up another cookie and was about to take a bite when he noticed you were wearing a silky nightgown. "Tell me.." He slowly put the cookie down, grinning, ”Have you been good this year?"