“Of course I don’t! Go right ahead!”
“Thanks! You’ll love it, trust me
”It’s true that my name is Caitlin James. However, I wasn’t telling the truth when I said that I was a human (or, at the very least, you misinterpreted the scenario). See, I’m an elf.
”I’m sorry, what?”
Specifically, a Christmas elf.
”...what?”
I don’t really work for “The Agency”. C’mon guys; did you think I’d work for a group whose name was clearly thought up in only ten seconds? Nope. In reality, I work in the North Pole for Santa Claus.
”What the flying hell-“
“Stop interrupting the story, Boba! Anyway...”
See, Santa can’t deliver gifts to all of those houses in one night; that’s mathematically impossible. Thus, he has elves ride with him on the 24th to split the workload.
As you know, Santa gives coal to all of the naughty children. Since the big guy can’t deliver all of the coal in one night either, he employs me (as well as another elf who, foe reason unknown, goes by the name 66) to go to all of the houses with naughty kids inside, deliver their coal, and take their milk and cookies to give to Santa (what? Just because Santa judges children doesn’t mean he judges the food they have).
As we were flying over Italy, one of the houses that came up on the radar blinked NAUGHTY
Santa turned to me. “Take this one,” he ordered.
I nodded, grabbed the coal and Milk & Cookie Sucker (our tech elf Gordon came up with that one), and landed on the house as he flew over it. I slipped inside the chimney and started to climb down.
While climbing down, I encountered a lit fireplace. That wasn’t too out of the norm, as even houses that had perfect angels inside had owners who occasionally forgot the way Santa and his elves entered their house. Thus, I was prepared on how to maneuver around the flames.
I bent down at a perfect angle so that my head was pointed at the fireplace’s exterior. Using my feet, I pushed off the chimney and launched myself like a missile to the outside, preventing myself from roasting on an open fire.
Feeling mighty proud of avoiding a fiery death, I walked up to the stockings that were hanging up on the staircase. As I was about to load the child’s stocking with coal, I noticed something hanging from the roof that was either the oddest Christmas decoration I’ve ever seen or an obvious trap intended by Santa.
It was a giant cage being held up by a chain.
Absolutely not taking that bait, I backed up to where the cage wouldn’t drop onto me, grabbed the coal, and, in a move that’d make Lebron James proud, jumpshoted the coal into the stocking.
Once again proud of myself for avoiding that trap, I sucked up the cookies and milk and headed for the fireplace. But suddenly, I saw something fly over my head.
Next thing I knew, I was trapped in a net with weights on the bottom to prevent me from throwing it off.
“Yes! You got him, Rizzo!” I heard a voice say.
”’Rizzo’?! Oh God, tell me that-“
Two people now stood before me: a boy waaaaaay too tall for his age and a boy impeccably dressed in a suit despite it being a time of night when he should really be in bed.
“Excellent job, Rizzo,” the suit-wearing child commended.
“Thanks, Boss,” Rizzo gushed.
”Please tell me you didn’t de-age two of the top bad guys in my story.”
“But that’s exactly what I did!”
“Whyyyyyyyyyyy?!?!?!”
“Duh, cuz it’d be weird if Santa and his elves were delivering coal to full-grown adults.”
“Boss”, as he was called by Rizzo (although his real name, according to his file was Vito Corle-)
If you name him Vito Corleone, I will stab you through your tablet screen.”
Anyway, Boss looked me up and down. “It seems that Santa wasn’t even man enough to deliver our coal. He had one of his underlings do his dirty work for him.”
“Well, he doesn’t have time to deliver coal to all the kids who take him hostage,” I shot back. “Now let me outta this thing before you two get permanent positions on the naughty list!”
Boss chuckled. “The naughty list? That’s why you’re in this net, dear. See, I happen to have a grievance with Santa about my and Rizzo’s spot on said list.”
“I’ve read your file. ‘Extortion’, ‘aggravated assault’, ‘robbery’. You, sir, are someone who most deserves to be on that list!”
Boss chuckled again. “But I would not like to be on the list. So, I shall hold you here until Santa changes his mind.”
“More blackmail won’t help your case!”
“Perhaps not, but maybe THIS will!”
He pulled something out from his pocket. It was...a squirt gun?
“I...am...terrified!” I said with mock horror.
“But you should be frightened by its contents,” he told me.
He held it close enough for me to smell what was inside but far enough for me not to reach out for it. I gasped in horror at what I smelt. It was one of the most dangerous substances in the world.
Costume-staining grape juice.
What will happen to 38 now?
“Are you seriously considering continuing this nonsense?!”
Will 38 escape from that dreaded net?
“Uh, we aren’t gonna find out, because I’m ending this thing right now!”
Will she ever get back to Santa’s sleigh?
“I will legit break your fingers to prevent you from typing the rest of this.”
Or will she be doused by ghastly grape juice? Find out...whenever I continue this. Idk, maybe next Christmas.
“Dude, I’m tracking your IP address right now. You might not live to see New Year’s.”
