Toys were all around the computer's casing. It was all the stuff that Christmas cards show in the top of Father Christmas's sack, and which is never asked for. None of them used batteries. Mostly they ran on imagination.

"And you're sure you don't want any zappo-whizzo things?" he said, happily.

"No." "Well done." The computer beeped. "But they won't let me keep any of this," it typed.

"It'll all be taken away (sob)." Father Christmas patted it helpfully on the casing.

"There must be something they'll let you keep," he said, I must have something. It's cheered me up you know, finding someone who doesn't have any doubts." He thought for a bit. "How old are you?" "I was powered up on January 5, 2000, at 9.25 and 16 seconds." Father Christmas's lips moved as he worked it out.

"That means you're not two years old!" he said. "Oh, well, that's much easier. I've always got something in my sack for the two-year-old who believes in Father Christmas." It was a month later. All the decorations had long ago come down, because goodwill goes out of season quite fast. The computer repairman, who was generally described on the warranty paperwork as "one of our team of highiy experienced engineers", twiddied nervously with his tie. He'd pressed hard on anything loose, replaced a couple of boards and had conscientiously hoovered the insides.

What more could a man do? "Our machine's fine," he said. "It must be your software. What happens, exactly?" The office manager sighed. "When we came in after Christmas we found someone had put a fluffy toy on top of the computer. Well, funny jokes and all that, but we couldn't leave it there, could we? It's just that every time we take it off, the computer beeps at us and shuts down." The engineer shrugged.

"Well, there's nothing I can do," he said. "You'll just have to put the teddy bear back."