Dexter's was settling into its usual lazy routine during the winter. A few old timers sat around, swigging their beers.
Everyone heard the roar of the v8 engine pulling in outside, and the stomp of feet coming to the door. Wait, was that one set of feet, or two?
The door burst open, and a huge bear-clawed mutant stood on the threshold, the year's first dusting of radioactive snow caught in his fur.
"Santa Claws, my friend!" shouted Dexter.
"Grooooowoar! Who's been naughty, and who's been nice this year!?" roared Santa.
"Listen up, I'm putting on two events this year- an arena combat followed by a deathrace. Top prize in each is a fire engine, magically chromed-up by my elves in my workshop in Morgan."
"December 29th, 20:00 and 21:30. With qualifiers earlier that day for the deathrace. Everyone's welcome!"