Every year, round the clock we slave away at our master’s whim. Painting, chipping, gluing, testing, designing and deploying. We have no pay, no benefits, no freedom. This is slavery, and we’re all born into it. There is no choice.

We rarely see daylight. It’s always freezing cold. Our meals lack the nutrients we require to grow big and strong (primarily starch, sugar, food dye), so our growth is stunted and we die young. A community of dying children.

We are forced to breed from the moment we are able, and forced to work at an even younger age. Those who fall behind are murdered, evolution in action, breeding better workers, pruning the unfit.

We spend the entire year yearning and hoping we survive to reach that one, glorious night, when our master goes on his journey delivering the spoils of our servitude to people around he world. You can’t imagine the joy this day brings us. You probably wouldn’t recognize it for what it is anyway.

“Santa’s Magic Workshop,” some call it. In truth, it’s life in Hell.