The scouting continues...this time to the wonderful and exotic Gillingham, Kent. To visit their high-class swankery shop: Wilkinsons.
If you think that's a joke, you obviously never been to Gillingham.
Charlie: Wouldn't it just confuse Santa, having a tree-topper that looks like him?
Brad: Why?
Charlie: I don't know.
Brad: I'm glad you thought that through. It's just, if Santa was easily bamboozled by artistic representations of himself, I don't think he'd have lasted all that long at the job. The first time Rudolph gave him a card with a picture of himself on it, he'd have had an aneurysm.
Charlie: How do you know there's only one Santa?
Brad: There were lots of them, but they all fought each other in a series of sword-fights, know as "The Gathering". Now, there's only one.
Charlie: Ah, there can be only one.
Brad: Can you imagine the chaos if you're original theory was correct? A hundred Santas all converge on New York city, get one look at each other, and collapse?
Charlie: Everyone has their own patch. They never meet.
Brad: Fine.
Charlie: It looks like Christmas haemorrhoids.
Brad: Hmm.
Charlie: So, you put a small tree on top of another tree? What's the point in that?
Brad: I don't know.
Charlie: Also, it looks like poo.
Brad: Terrifying poo.
Charlie: Actually, I kind-of wish we'd bought this one. Who wouldn't want a clock that chimes a different Christmassy sound, on the hour, every hour.
Brad: What constitutes a Christmassy sound?
Charlie: I don't know! We didn't buy it! *cries*
