Math Problem Twenty-Eight: Christmas Special!
A morbidly obese male ghost appears before Jack, dressed in what would appear to be a dirty hospital gown. “I am the ghost of Christmas future. Grasp the side of my gown, and you shall see the shape of things to come if your quest is unsuccessful.”
Jack thinks about it for a second. “Fine, I’d like to get out of Heck for a while. It can’t be worse than this.” So, he obeys the ghost, and his surroundings disappear in a rushing wind. His eyes open to a terrifying scene.
He stands before an open - air stage in Geneva. The sky above the city is the color of a television tuned to a dead channel. The masses around him have been successfully culled – soy products, vaccines, and Elon Musk’s neuralink implants have deprived them of all independent thinking. If their dead, empty eyes are any guide, none of these people can even conceive of sticking their genitalia into KFC deep fryers. Freedom is dead.
Up onto the stage steps Klaus Schwab - the slanderer, the strongman, the god of this world! In his right hand he holds a pitchfork, in his left a Dungeons and Dragons rulebook. He is arrayed all in black, and his horns can clearly be seen protruding from his head.
He begins to speak. “Hello my vondrous underlings, I have an announcement to make to you. Zis night, Santa Klaus - ze inferior Klaus - shall attempt to bring candy canes to ze children. Zis is foolish and unnecessary. Children have no need of candy canes, zey have all ze bugs zey could possibly vant to eat back home in zeir pods.”
At this, the crowd goes wild, for eating bugs is the only thing they still have any enthusiasm for, after all these years of being fed their high - fructose corn syrup and denied their horse dewormer. But, the archon raises his hand, and they fall silent.
“But afzer tonight, ze inferior Klaus shall bozer us no more. Indeed, I zink I see him coming right over ze city now.”
And, the Dark Lord speaks truth. As Jack looks on, a flying red sleigh exits hyperspace 704 feet above the ground. Elon Musk, who has long since forsaken the weakness of his flesh for the cold certainty of steel, is standing 1253 feet due south from Santa. Musk raises his right robotic arm and lets a high intensity laser beam fly at his the jolly old elf. Less than a second later, the sleigh becomes a fireball, and its entourage begin plummeting toward the ground at breakneck speeds. Cries of “HO! HO! HO!” and “WWWWEEEEHHHH!” echo throughout Geneva.
Assuming that Santa was unable to move any since his exit of hyperspace, and that the intersection of his height and distance from Elon form a right triangle, how much distance did Elon’s laser beam have to travel?