This close to the joyous midwinter feast, the Grinch surveyed the world. His plans were coming together quite nicely. As always, every year, he had made long-term plans for the theft of this irritating happiness which permeated society. People shouldn’t be happy; they should be stressed and crotchety and miserable.
This year, he targeted the fools hard at work in the shops, the nasty people who encouraged spending and happiness.
His plans, thought out months in advance, were really quite simple. He would screw up deliveries and floor-plans, starting in October when the workers begin to plan for shop-moves and deliveries, and continuing to December. And so the stock-rooms began to fill, with boxes stacked high, towering dangerously, spreading into the staff-room, until the workers thought of anonymous calls to Health & Safety, for surely this should not be.
And then, just to be helpful, the Grinch sent out a memo, advising the shop-workers that there would be no more big deliveries from the first Tuesday of December, After then, it would simply be replenishing deliveries. The odd box here and there, maybe two or three at a time.
But the Grinch, his reading skills and numeracy – they were not so good. He did not read the memo, nor could he count the boxes he ordered to be delivered. And so the large deliveries continued. Not the card-replenishments, though, just the teddies and sweets. Until the week before Christmas.
With barely a week to go, and with an order to rearrange the displays, less than half would be replenished, with dozens of the same design. And so the stock-rooms filled again. And the workers despaired. They longed for Christmas for it all to be over, not for any joyous reasons.
And the Grinch was happy.