THE REAL FATHER CHRISTMAS AND HIS ELVES
The New Wardrobe (3)
The pile of unwrapped costumes was gradually diminishing as was the level in the sloe gin bottle. The pile of wreckage in the middle of the dressing room floor was not.
The British costume nearly made it. The riding hood with its long cloak was certainly slimming and the hood would certainly be warm. Elf Yewtree took another fill. Things were looking up as Old Father Christmas pulled on his wellies. Then he spotted the snag. Once he’d put the holly wreath round the hood, he looked like something on a Roman wall.
Apparently, the wreath was non-negotiable. Elf Yewtree sent for another bottle of sloe gin; this could take some time yet.
Eventually, Old Father Christmas had rejected costumes from just about every possible country. So, there was only one thing for it, why hadn’t they thought of it before? Father Christmas picked up his original garb and, as he put it on this time, it fitted perfectly. Of course it did; it was magic. Father Christmas tried his catch phrase, “Ho, ho ho! Merry Christmas!” That felt good!
On his way out of his quarters, the Old Man jammed the holly wreath down on his head. “Bloody thing, far too prickly.” All was right with the world at least as far as HQ(NP) was concerned. The two old friends picked up their glasses and put their arms around each other. They staggered unsteadily back to the Throne Room.
A Few Things Explained
Old Father Christmas seated himself comfortably and made himself ready to receive visitors. “Me-me-me. Ho, ho, (cough, hawk, splutter).” A nine-month lay-off had played havoc with his voice. “Me-me-me, thank you Elf Yewtree. (A brief pause for a little slurp.) mee-meE-MEE! Ah, that’s better. Ho, ho, ho! Meeery Christmas.” Everyone present ignored the undignified burp. “Ah, my good Elves, who is this you’ve brought to meet me?”
Two very reluctant youths were led into the presence and forced to their knees. “What, no present sacks, my fine Elves?”
“Well, you know, Santa, it is only September and we won’t need to deliver them until Christmas Eve.” The full horror of their situation was only just starting to dawn on the yobbos.
“Quite right, Elf Bindweed, but please don’t call me Santa.”
“Awrigh’, Boss”. Old Father Christmas sighed. How many centuries had it been? Perhaps he should have been stricter with his Elves. They really should be more formal in the way they addressed him in company. But they were so good at their jobs that it wasn’t worth bothering about.
“These scumbags are bullies and they treat rough sleepers like s***.”
“Language, young Elf.”
“Sorry, Chief, should of said, ‘crap’.” Old Father Christmas sighed.
“Right then, let’s see what they have to say for themselves. Let’s start with the little one.” Calling Tony ‘the little one’ wasn’t really fair; it’s just that he was smaller than Andrew and slighter. However, his physique, that was only too clearly on display, was trim rather than skinny. Some of the Fairies even described him as cute. Tony was not much comforted by that as they giggled.
Elf Cobweb produced that knife again. Tony froze. The knife was being wielded by an expert and there was (hardly) any injury as the tape was slit. That was bad enough but the squeal as it was pulled free from his hair was mercifully muffled. But there was much flashing between his teeth.
“Well, my dear boy, take a look at these.” Father Christmas’s TechElf started showing Tony some slides. Well, you know and I know that they weren’t really slides. They were images summoned from the poor kid’s subconscious. He saw a procession of normal looking kids who had only one thing in common. They weren’t that robust looking. Elf Cobweb forced the flashing ball from Tony’s mouth.
“L-look, we never done nuffink to them lyin’ wimps, honest, Santa.” Elf Cobweb put his hand over Tony’s mouth before he could dig himself in any deeper.
“Firstly, young man, I am Old Father Christmas and secondly, I know who’s been naughty and bad.” Tony’s eyes grew wider as the magical video show continued. “Now, would you like to explain what you have just seen?” Let’s face it: he couldn’t – well, not without condemning himself irrevocably.
“Very well, just stay silent while I have a little word with your colleague here.” Tony sagged. Andrew wasn’t keen on seeing that knife approaching his face.
“Well, young man, what do you have to say?” Andrew was obviously not too stupid to deny what he had done to several of his victims. Tony felt himself disappearing further down a deep well with every one of his mate’s confessions.
“Ho, ho, ho! That seems to be fairly conclusive. Better get them down to work until Christmas Eve.”
“Look, you old ****, you can’t keep us ‘ere.” Andrew seemed to have gathered new courage.
“Nuh, our folks is gunna miss us.” Even Tony revived under the new threat. There was much ribaldry among the assembled company. These thickos simply did not understand.
Old Father Christmas waved his hand. The boys became silent. “My good Elves, will you please take these two young men home? No sacks, though.” The Elves grinned.
Putting Things Into Context
“Yeah, that’s it; take us ‘ome.”
“Oh, and if you would be kind enough to ensure that they can’t get themselves into any more trouble.” The Elves swung into action with the festively flashing balls.
“No, no, my dear Elves, please don’t be so brutal. Surely you have something more appropriate than those flashing balls. After all, they are rather large for the poor young people’s mouths.”
“But they look so jolly, Father Christmas.”
“Yes, my good Elf, but you know what a softie I am; they are very demanding on the jaws.”
Never let it be said that the fairies left all the tormenting to the Elves: Fairy Flutterby had an idea. She twitched her right shoulder, winked her left eye and disappeared. She returned almost instantaneously. (Please see previous explanations). She was greeted with adulatory applause. Yes! What a good idea. She curtseyed displaying a trophy in each hand, “Ta-da!” - How unladylike.
The ’guests’ were gobsmacked. Fairy Flutterby had collected a pair of those items that the workshop makes for certain types of ‘party’. The yobbos didn’t recognise them. They were the only ones who didn’t (Just saying).
“Wonderful, young lady, what a splendid suggestion, so fitting with the young men’s costumes.” The ‘hard men’ slowly came to recognise what Fairy Flutterby was presenting to the Elves. They were not happy.
“OK then, open wide.” Neither lad seemed to want to oblige Elf Bindweed; the Elves’ eyes lit up. They would be only too delighted to persuade them to cooperate. However, it was goodwill and Fairy-dust time. Fairy Firefly just touched each of them on one shoulder with her wand. That caused a strange tingling feeling to spread through their bodies. As it did so, neither boy could stop his jaws opening wider than they would have thought possible.
“Thank you, my fine young lady, I think, perhaps that that is wide enough now. Would you not agree, boys?” The unfortunate yobbos nodded frantically with their mouths still wide agape. That was another fine contribution to the video.
“I think our guests are ready now.” They certainly were, and their jaws were starting to ache already. The over-sized dummies that the Elves lodged into their guests’ mouths looked quite festive. They had pretty pink ribbons attached to either side. Fairy Firefly touched the boys lightly on the opposite shoulders this time. They had that strange tingling feeling once more. Then their jaws clamped down on the over-sized, rigid rubber teats. The ribbons were tied behind the boys’ heads to hold the dummies firmly in place. Because the Fairies tied the knots, they finished them with attractive, over-sized bows.
“Ho, ho, ho! Very festive, young ladies. Don’t you agree, boys?” They looked at one another. They did not seem to agree. “Very well, my young Elves, just make sure that can’t slip their hands under their bums, please. Then take them home. Thank you. Oh, and you’d better make sure they can’t run away either.”
Dressing the Visitors
The thought of going home rendered the bullies rather more cooperative as they were led away. Those chains and collars still didn’t look that festive, though. Once more the chains were locked to hooks on Elf Bindweed’s workshop wall.
The Elf went searching for some of that special Christmas tinsel. You know: the stuff that’s as tough as barbed wire but much prettier. He explained that, as long as they didn’t struggle, it shouldn’t really hurt all that much. He didn’t look exactly as if he was telling the truth.
He looped the sparkly stuff between Andrew’s elbows and pulled them towards each other. “You were right, Elf Bindweed, you did get his elbows to touch.”
“Just class, my friend, just class.” Elf bindweed reinforced the bindings several times before tying the tinsel off between Andrew’s arms. It was certainly going to hurt if he was left like that for too long but, you know . . .”
Elf Cobweb’s job was easier with the slighter captive and Tony would probably not suffer as much. The Elves spun their subjects around to examine each other’s work. “A fine job, Elf Bindweed.”
“As, indeed is yours, Elf Cobweb.”
“Hang on, though, there’s something missing. Why don’t you continue with Blondie while I go looking for something?” Elf Cobweb left the room while Elf Bindweed took some more of his special tinsel out of store. By the time Elf Cobweb reappeared, Andrew was sporting even more of it. Elf Bindweed had tied tinsel above and below his knees and round his ankles. That left him very unstable and he really didn’t want to topple, that collar would have hurt. Elf Bindweed had expressed his artistic side by spiralling some more tinsel round his lower legs.
Elf Cobweb presented some of what he had found to his friend for his approval. “Oh, very fine, do you think they’ll like it?” I think you can guess the answer to that.
Elf Cobweb continued to work on the darker yobbo until his festive wrappings resembled his mate’s. By the time he had finished, Elf Bindweed was still working. He had located the middle of a long string of small, round beads. He then looped it over Andrew’s neck and criss-crossed it several times round his torso. He tied it off at the front with a sizeable bow. He then fastened it with a cable tie just to be sure. When Elf Cobweb had finished his task, Tony was adorned with a similar harness of beads. His, however were golden.
“Do you think that one more string would be vulgar, Elf Bindweed?”
“That all depends what you are proposing, Elf Cobweb.” Elf Cobweb showed him. Ah, you have such exquisite taste, good Elf.” By the time the Eves had finished, each of their victims sported strings of little tinkly bells.
TBC