THUNDER THE REINDEER

Excellent question.

I don't know.

I may have been born.

I may have been created.

I may have evolved.

There is currently insufficient evidence to reach a scientifically defensible conclusion.

What we do know is that I first appeared high in the Arctic during an enormous storm.

Ice crystals collided inside the clouds.

Electrical charges separated.

Lightning flashed.

BOOM.

There I was.

Coincidence? Possibly.

Cause and effect? Possibly.

Christmas magic? Santa's theory.

I require additional data.

Lightning claims he created me.

There is absolutely no evidence supporting this hypothesis.

I continue to investigate my origins.

Although I can confirm one fact with complete scientific certainty:

I was born at a very early age.

Assuming I was born.

Perhaps not knowing where I came from explains why I've always needed to know how things work.

Why does lightning flash before thunder arrives?

Why does thunder sometimes BOOM, sometimes KA-BOOM, and sometimes just... rumble?

Actually, rumble might just be my stomach.

Why does static electricity make reindeer fur stand up?

Why can you sometimes hear a storm from kilometres away?

And why does Santa insist his sleigh can do things that appear to violate several fundamental laws of physics?

Research continues.

I started observing clouds, measuring storms and recording everything I discovered.

Eventually I developed what I call:

A storm isn't chaos when you understand what's happening.

It's physics.

Very, very loud physics.

Jack says that's basically the Big Bang Theory.

No.

Thunder's Theory.

Lightning and I approach science differently.

I calculate.

He accelerates.

I observe atmospheric conditions.

He asks: “How fast do you think we can go?”

I believe every experiment should begin with a hypothesis.

Lightning believes every experiment should begin with: “Ready... set... GO!”

Somehow, it works.

When Lightning flashes across the Arctic sky, I follow with the boom.

Lightning is the pulse.

I am the heartbeat.

Together, we're Thunder & Lightning.

Santa didn't exactly find us.

It's more accurate to say he heard us coming.

Lightning tore across the sky.

FLASH!

I followed.

BOOM!

Santa looked up.

The elves looked up.

Several snowmen fell over.

Holly Wood called it “thunderous applause.”

I'd say thunderous.

Santa laughed and said he needed two reindeer capable of handling “unusual atmospheric conditions.”

I requested a more precise job description.

Santa handed me a harness.

Apparently that was the job description.

We've been helping pull the sleigh ever since.

There are certain things at the North Pole I have not yet been able to explain.

Flying reindeer.

A sleigh carrying an improbable quantity of presents.

Travelling around the world in one night.

Santa fitting down chimneys that are demonstrably smaller than Santa.

Santa calls all of this: “Christmas magic.”

I call it: “An unresolved collection of extremely interesting phenomena.”

Santa says we're saying the same thing.

We are not.

But I haven't ruled out his hypothesis.

That's science.

Here's something you can investigate too.

When you see lightning, count the seconds until you hear thunder.

Light reaches you much faster than sound.

That delay can help estimate how far away a storm is.

Lightning calls this: “How far away am I?”

I call it: “Estimating distance using the propagation velocity of sound through Earth's atmosphere.”

Santa calls it: “Thunder, the kids stopped listening ten words ago.”

We're still working on the name.

Some elves call me the Voice of Chaos.

Others call me the Guardian of Storms.

I prefer: Atmospheric Research Reindeer.

Apparently that doesn't fit very well on a T-shirt.

Whatever you call me, if the clouds begin to charge and the Arctic sky suddenly flashes... start counting.

Lightning won't be far away.

And neither will I.

Because sooner or later—

BOOM.

You've been Thunderstruck.

I'm Thunder.

Scientifically speaking.