“Oh deer, oh deer! Wake up, wake up!” Prancer barged into the bedroom jumping around trying to get everyone up. Comet opened an eye, but thought he was still in a trance so fell back asleep. Blitzen jolted up and nearly fell off the bed. “What’s all the racket about?” asked Donner still half-asleep. “I got in! I got in! They want me!!” yelled Prancer, barely managing to breathe. “Vogue wants me!!! I’m going to be the Reindeer of the Year in the Annual Deer Awards!!!” Prancer was ecstatic! The others, not so much. They were still REM-ing they couldn’t quite figure out what was going on. All they could see, at least dimly with their eyes half-shut, was this proud reindeer prancing around in the bedroom waving a letter it was clutching in its front hoof. There was one question in everyone’s head regarding all of this: why on earth did the postman come so early today?
Prancer was skipping and hopping and dancing and singing. It was her dream after all to be acknowledged as the fashionista she was by an internationally renowned magazine. And which better than Vogue? All the famous reindeer models and designers were featured in Vogue.
Prancer was an expert in fashion and style. She was the one who chose all the outfits for the reindeer, the elves, the maids; even Mrs Clause valued her opinion. And now she was to be famous! Bring on the cheer!