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Santa Chimps settled into the big armchair with a contented sigh. Outside, the snow fell softly, dusting the eaves of the cabin. He stroked his magnificent white beard—an obvious fake, but effective—and carefully pulled a brightly wrapped box from his overflowing sack. "Another successful year," he grumbled happily to the flickering fireplace, his voice a low, rumbling chuckle. He hadn't delivered toys by sleigh, but by swinging vine and stealthy rooftop hops across the jungle canopy. The presents weren't exactly conventional—the finest ripe mangoes, shiny stolen car keys for the magpies, and a surprisingly elegant banana slicer for a very particular baboon—but the spirit of giving was there. As he unwrapped his own gift, a huge, perfectly ripe durian fruit, a wide, genuine grin spread across his face. Christmas was the best.