By the time Banta pulled into a little town, every hotel room was taken. "You've got to have a room somewhere," he pleaded. "Or just a bed, I don't care where."
"Well, I do have a double room with one occupant," admitted the manager, "and he might be glad to split the cost. But to tell you the truth, this man by the name of Santa, snores so loudly that people in adjoining rooms have complained. I'm not sure it'd be worth it to you."
"No problem," tired Banta assured him. "I'll take it."
The next morning Banta came down to breakfast bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. "How'd you sleep?" asked the manager.
"Never better."
The manager was impressed. "No problem with snoring Santa?"
"Nope, I shut him up in no time," said Banta.
"How'd you manage that?" asked the manager.
"Santa was already in bed, snoring away, when I entered in the room," Banta explained. "I went over, gave him a kiss on the cheek, said, 'Goodnight, beautiful,' and he sat up all night watching me."

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