Children stand in line holding paperwork in their hands waiting to speak to Santa Clause. Santa’s little helpers require from each child one of three forms of ID: enrollment paperwork, a private school voucher, or a super private school wrist-embedded microchip.

“Santa is non-denominational,” said Summit spokesperson Pierre Haughte. “Any child from any private school is welcome. Catholic, Christian, however, children from a Montessori program will get first priority.”

Most of the children who visit Santa at the Summit want Bitcoin. Mr. Kringle says he really appreciates kids that practice pragmatic investments. “I made my fortune investing in the coal industry myself.”

Each morning, Santa strolls into the Summit wearing a crushed velvet Santa suit emblazoned with the Brooks Brothers logo and a pair of $35 Christmas horse socks from Kentucky for Kentucky. His signature wire-rimmed bifocals have been replaced by modern Warby Parker frames. He takes his seat at an authentic reindeer hide throne. He carries a cane with a golden reindeer bone handle and a red ruby jewel for its nose.

Yesterday, a child was removed from Santa’s lap and escorted off the premises by an elf after asking for something from Old Navy. “Look,” said Santa, “Vineyard Vines is the bottom of what we will accept here in terms of clothes requests.” After the boy was removed, Santa took a brief break to change into a spare suit.

One overly hopeful child hoped to improve his chances of getting what he wanted by promising Santa he would leave gluten free cookies and soy milk for him. “Add the three most recent issues of The New Yorker,” replied Santa, “and we’ll see.”

Afterwards, a girl in a Big Blue UK sweatsuit got in line, which has complimentary mocha latte’s and Wall Street Journals. An elf equipped with a Bluetooth earpiece blocked her. “Excuse me,” the elf said in a fake English accent, “you are Fayette Mall material.”