A bewildered Santa Claus stared at the static computer screen.
He clicked the mouse. He mashed keys. He took a nearby workshop hammer and raised it over the CPU when he heard a reassuring ticking.
The file saving that Santa had started three minutes ago was finally completing.
Santa let out a thankful sigh.
The computer reciprocated by filling the screen with naked, moaning women.
"Honey, what's that noise?" Mrs. Claus' voice drifted into the room from elsewhere in the house.
Santa frantically tried to close the windows, but with every X he clicked, another three women would appear with backdoor requests.
"Just an email from my brother, dear," Santa shouted back. "You know how he is."
He yanked the computer's plug from the wall and the women were silenced.
***
The next day, Santa was working on the computer while Mrs. Claus was dusting around the office.
"What's that?" Mrs. Claus pointed to a small picture on the screen of a beaver and a clam hand-in-hand.
"I'm not sure. It was just there when I turned on the computer."
Mrs. Clause took the computer mouse and clicked on the odd icon.
The computer screen went black. Then ...
... "Oh, my word. CHRIS!" Mrs. Clause shouted. "You work with children! How could you ... What are you ... Is that a ..."
"Ho ho hoes?" Santa replied.
"I've been a very bad girl this year." "You need to be punished." "Fill my stocking."
Seeing Mrs. Claus glare made Santa realize he needed to say something. Anything. "I don't know how they got there. I've never seen any of this ..."
"All this time I thought you were working and you've been looking up pictures of ... Frosty the Blowman!"
Santa tried to explain to his wife about spyware and adware and the never-ending battle with unwarranted downloads.
Santa slept on the couch for a week. He decided it was time to invest in some spyware filters.
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