My holiday assignment gets tougher each year, but I never back away from a challenge. I have to live up to my name, after all.

Scoop here, on location at the North Pole, joined by Santa’s eight reindeer not named Rudolph. We’re seated — well, standing actually — by a roundtable for this interview. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen a reindeer sit.

Anyway, I’m here with Dasher, Dancer, Prancer and Vixen, Comet, Cupid and Donner and Blitzen … but can you recall …

Dasher: Don’t say it!

Cupid: Don’t even think it!

Scoop: Say what? What is the problem here? And where is Rudolph, anyway?

Comet: He said it.

Donner: Rudolph’s not here … probably has the sniffles again.

Scoop: The sniffles?

Donner: Have you ever seen his nose? He has the cold that never quits.

Scoop: You mean …

Vixen: Yep. Rudolph sneezed his way to stardom.

Scoop: OK, let’s get back on track here. What do all of your names mean?

Dasher: The Speed Demon.

Dancer: The Salsa Phenom.

Prancer: Fairest of Them All.

Vixen: Most Enchanting Reindeer.

Comet: An All-Around Wonderful Reindeer.

Cupid: Loves Sharing Love.

Donner: Always A Party.

Blitzen: Fast As Lightning.

Scoop: Interesting. And you are all females?

Prancer: Girls rule!

Comet: Allow me to explain. The guys shed their antlers during the winter. They lose strength and vitality during those months, too.

Blitzen: In other words, it’s us or nobody!

Scoop: You seem quite proud and rightfully so. I know how I fly, of course. How do you ladies soar through the sky?

Dancer: Magical reindeer food. The big guy feeds it to us year-round, and it gets us off our hoofs — literally. That stuff keeps us young, too. We’ve been doing this for decades, and we never get old.

Scoop: I was wondering about that …

Vixen: If you’re thinking about asking our age, well, it’s impolite to ask a lady her age. So keep the beak shut.

Scoop: That’s not very enchanting talk.

Cupid: The meaning of our names only goes so far. Sometimes I feel out of place. I should play a role on Valentine’s Day.

Donner: The outfit wouldn’t look very flattering on you … Party on!

Scoop: Do I detect a little drama here?

Dasher: Can’t put anything past that bird.

Olive: I wish Cupid would be shifted to Valentine’s Day. Then I would finally have a spot in the lineup.

Scoop: Who are you? Where did you come from?

Olive: My name’s Olive and I’m the ninth reindeer, not counting Rudolph, naturally. If one of the others bows out, gets hurt, gets tired, whatever … I’m next reindeer up. But it never happens. I’m not part of the song. I’m not part of anything. Nobody even knows who I am … excuse me for a moment.

Scoop: I’ve never seen a reindeer cry before.

Dancer: We tend to get emotional at times. But, hey, then we dance the night away.

Scoop: Getting back to that magical reindeer food — what’s in it?

Blitzen: Santa never tells us, but it has the flavor of cinnamon and red apples. Quite tasty, actually.

Scoop: Santa’s sleigh is only so big. Does he come back here for refills?

Prancer: He’s got distribution points located all over the globe. We just stop while he reloads.

Scoop: Does he ever share the cookies people leave out for him?

Dasher: Are you kidding? He has to keep his weight up, and we have to watch our figures.

Scoop: I must say, this conversation has been very enlightening.

Comet: Speaking of enlightening, has anyone seen Rudolph?

Vixen: Yep … he just asked me for a tissue.

All: Merry Christmas!