Chapter 4: Elf on a Shelf

         A council of Elves have come together for an emergency town meeting. Two sides of the room are arguing with each other, while a wig wearing Elf tries to restore order. Rudy slips into the back of an auditorium and into the back row of empty seats so not to cause a disturbance. 

“Everybody calm down,” exclaims the Elf Judge. “Both sides will have equal opportunity to voice their concerns!” 

“Judge, these Elves are out of order,” proclaims an elf named Baxter. “They claim that this Kringle fella told them to cause mayhem and now we are under more extreme security.” 

“Oh, for the love of Santa,” shouts a defensive young Elf. “He acts like Jack Frost isn’t to blame for everything! They’re his Toys!” Several other young elves agree and cheer on their fellow dissenter. 

“You’re too young to understand,” grunts an older elf. “Santa would put you all on the Naughty List with how you’re acting!” Several of the older Elves override the cheers of the younger. 

“You’re calling us naughty? You’re the ones getting high off Christmas Spirit! Too busy living in the past!” 

“Because we work hard! You self righteous Elves don’t get it, you don’t have families to provide for!” 

The Elves have gotten into another cross room shouting match. The Elf Judge rubs his forehead with the gavel, letting them continue until hopefully they run out of voices.

“We can’t let him steal Christmas! We can’t let him take our livelihoods! Long Live Santa!” 

“Long Live Santa,” shout the other older Elves. 

“Kringle Lives!” Buddy the Elf stands with his fist in the air. The room turns and looks at him as he walks in front of the Elf Judge’s podium. “He saved my life. Those soldiers were going to kill me until he came in and stopped them. He’s one of us!” 

“He killed Santa,” yells an older Elf from the back. “Frost said so on the TV! He would know! That’s why he’s here, he’s coming to get Frost!” 

“And what’s wrong with that?” Elves on both sides get really quiet. Some scan the room, looking for potential eyes and ears from Amazing Co. that could be hidden in plain sight. “He’s ruined Christmas! He has all of us fighting each other! I say we let Kringle take care of it!”

“Buddy,” says the Judge, finally quiet enough to speak. “You should rethink what you’re saying. We can all agree, the loss of Santa has been hard on all of us. But we’re Elves... we stick together and work hard, because that’s what he expects of us. Everything we do, we do in the name of Santa.” 

“Long Live Santa,” repeat the other Elves. 

“Long Live Santa, I know—“

“Then you know that if you believe in Santa, things will turn out OK. It’s what we’ve all got to remember. After all, He sees you when you’re sleeping. He knows when you’re awake. He knows when you’ve been bad — or good — so let’s all be good, for goodness sake.” 

The arguing Elves can at least agree on this, apologizing to each other across the aisles. Buddy the Elf shakes his head as he walks out of the congregation and into the cold of night.  

**************

Kringle sits at a small kitchen table as Noelle puts down a glass and fills it with some cold milk. She places the carton down for him and pushes the glass forward. He takes a big gulp, leaving a slight mustache over his five o’clock shadow. 

“I’d make you some cookies,” she says as she watches him finish off the glass of milk, “but it looks like you kicked the habit.’ 

“I’m on the South Pole diet,” he quips. 

“It shows.” 

“You don’t look too happy to see me,”  he says as he fills his glass up again.

“I thought you were dead. We all did,” she shoots back as she stands over him. “Yet here you are — the living, breathing thing.” 

Kringle notices a memorial in the living room dedicated to him. Newspaper clippings of the Assault on Candy Cane Lane, along with pictures of the fallen Reindeer. He gets up from the table and gets a closer look. Next to his picture is a portrait of him and Mary on their wedding day in Christmas Town. 

“So are you gonna tell me what happened,” she says with a touch of frustration.

“Frost sent a package, an explosive of some sort. The Reindeer were in the house and I went in to save them, but it was too late.” 

“Maybe something wanted you to survive.” 

He glances over at the TV, a news segment on the epidemic that’s ravaging the town. Rows and rows of beds with sick elves paints a bleak picture on the screen and he can’t look away. 

“It’s gotten worse since you left,” she says in a somber tone. “Mostly the older elves, but the Spirit... it’s infected half of the city. At least that’s what they say.” 

“I need to get into Amazing Co.,” he says, turning his attention back to Noelle. “I need you to get me in there undetected.” 

“Aren’t you the most magical man in the universe? I don’t know what you need me for.” 

“It’s hard to explain.” 

“Well, I’d love to help but I don’t work for Amazing Co. anymore. Frost fired me once he took the job. He knows how I feel about you.” This brings up a memory of when they last saw each other. She turns away and walks back to the living room. “But I’m sure you’ll figure it out.” 

“I lost the magic,” he laments, causing Noelle to turn around with a shocked glance. “It’s gone.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I came through your front door, Noelle. I came here on a one-person sleigh. I’m not who you think I am. I’m not Santa anymore... I’m just Kringle. I can’t do this alone... I need you. I need the Elves. If we can get them to band together—“

“That’s not gonna happen,” she interrupts with a groan. “As long as Frost keeps peddling the Christmas Spirit, half of the Elves will do what he says.” 

“How much do you know about Christmas Magic,” he says, holding his wife’s picture.”

“About as much as any Elf. It’s what gets you down the chimney, it’s how we finish the job every Christmas—“ 

“That’s not what I mean. I’m talking about real Christmas Magic.” He walks into the living room. “My father used to tell me stories from before my birth, about a real magic that was given to him by fairies. I used to think it was ridiculous but then I put on the suit and it all made sense. I could feel it.

“Whenever I’m Santa, I have the suit on.  I haven’t been the same since I took it off. My father left it to me for a reason. If it got in the wrong hands, like Jack Frost, it could be dangerous.” 

“Are you sure he has it,” she asks. “Because you’d think he would’ve used it by now.” 

“I’m not sure,” he says as he takes a seat on the couch. “But whatever he has, we need to get in there and take it before he realizes what it can do.” 

        ********************

Tempers are high at the top of the Amazing Co. offices. Jack Frost is watching the rerun of his latest press conference, hoping to find the coverage of his newest line products — the Amazing Co. Home Protection Line — but instead finds it dwarfed by the news of Kringle and his link to the Assault on Candy Cane Lane. He shoots the TV with his newly dubbed “Frost Ray” and shoots a large piece of ice through the screen. 

“That fat son of a bitch,” shouts Frost, throwing the ice gun down on his desk. “Always the star of the show, even in death!” 

He gets up from his chair and kicks the TV over, shattering it into pieces. Bailey gets out of the way as some of the ice slides to his feet, doing his best not to anger Frost anymore than he already is. 

“But he’s not dead,” he glares at Bailey. “Is he? No! Because then why else would he be burning his name across the damn city!” He walks up to the large window overlooking Christmas Town, his eyes filled with fury. “And these Elves... these weak, mindless drones of Santa Claus... why can’t they just move on?” 

        “Everyone grieves differently, sir,” Bailey says with confidence. 

Frost rolls his eyes as two Toy Soldiers march in with four Elves, frozen in blocks of ice from the waist down. They look worried and afraid to be brought into Frost’s office, as this is not something any ordinary Elf gets to do. Usually it’s not for any good reason, either. 

“Fantastic,” Frost says clapping his hands in excitement. “Finally, something to entertain me! I hope the ride over wasn’t too cold.” The Elves don’t find his sense of humor very tasteful at the moment. 

“Now, I’m sure you’re all aware of why you were brought in here today. This whole Kringle nonsense is really going to knock the Christmas train off it’s tracks. You get me? We really gotta find a way to get it going smoothly again.” 

“Screw you, Frost,” pipes a chubby Elf named Truffles. “Besides, we don’t even know this Kringle.” 

“Yeah! You gotta talk to Buddy.” 

“Buddy? What lazy parents. Ok, which one of you is Buddy?” The Elves look at each other, muttering little whispers under their breath. “Hey! Who’s Buddy?” 

“He’s not here.” 

“Ok, and you are?” 

“Jingles, sir,” says a skinny little elf with a chipper voice. “Jingles the First.” 

“Who names you guys? Seriously, what is this? You’re like little dog toys!” The light bulb goes off in Frost’s head. He cocks an eyebrow and gives a sinister grin, looking at Bailey. “Bailey, could you bring in Model 425Z, please?” 

“Uh, but sir, are you sure,” asks Bailey, a bit concerned. “We haven’t even tested it yet.” 

“Uh, yeah, well, we’re gonna try it now, dip shit. Just go get it!” Bailey gets on the walkie and radioes in for two Toy Soldiers to bring in the mysterious product. The Toys wheel in a square metal floorboard and place it next to the captured Elves. Frost motions for him to stay. “I’ll need you to escort Jingles-the-whatever his name is onto the machine.” 

Jingles is placed in the middle of the machine and nervously awaits his fate. Even in the middle of an ice block, he can feel himself sweating through his clothes. Soon, the entire block of ice melts around him. He sits down on the machine, trying to get movement back in his legs. 

“Are you sure you want to be sitting for this,” asks Frost. “I mean, whatever you want to do is fine, I guess—“

“Please, sir,” begs Jingles. “We won’t say a word, I swear!” 

“Perfect,” exclaims Frost, flipping a switch on a keyboard. He pull a pair of protective goggles down. “Looks like we’re all on the same page then. The last thing I need is another talking elf, right? So, how about we try out that idea, huh?” 

When Frost presses the red button on the keyboard, Jingles is walled in behind holiday themed gift wrap. The other Elves close their eyes as Jingles cries out for help.  Smoke seeps out of the corners of the box, before slowly retreating back into the bottom of the machine. Jingles the Elf, still sitting on floor, is shrunk down to a smaller size and stuck in place. He’s not frozen, though, but you could say that.

“I can’t believe that worked,” shouts Frost with glee. “What am I saying? I built it, of course I can believe it!” He skips over to the little elf and picks it up, marveling over how lifelike it looks. “I wonder if he can hear me? Jingles, you in there?” He shakes it around a bit, the little bells on his feet living up to their namesake. 

“I guess he’s tired. It’s been a rough day for Jingles.” Frost walks over to a wall and clears some space for his new doll. “It’s a little creepy that he’s watching me, but I kind of get off on that. It’s taboo, but it’s not like we’re doing anything wrong, you know? Anyway...” 

“You’re a monster,” cries Truffles, trying to wiggle out of the ice. Frost walks over to him and pats his rosy red cheeks. 

“And you’re gonna be my latest gift to the world,” he says with a wink. He motions for the Toys to move Truffles to the machine as he walks back over to the controls. Bailey follows him, trying not to make eye contact with his imprisoned brethren. 

“Sir, what is the point of this,” asks Bailey. “It feels a little counterproductive.”

“I’ve figured out how to save Christmas,” he yells like a madman. “Go fetch me those sick Elves. They want to go home? Here’s their chance.” Frost fires up the machine, boxing in Truffles the elf.  “And find me that Buddy the Elf. I want to talk to him about a mutual friend of ours.” 

    ************

In the early morning hours, when the Elves are finishing up breakfast and brushing their teeth, the bells of the Toy Soldiers are synchronized in a symphony of fear. They march through the streets and knock on the selected doors. When an Elf unwittingly answers the door, they are frozen at the feet and dragged out of the house. An Elf wife tries to pull her husband back inside but is frozen in place at her feet, too. 

A couple of the other wanted Elves try to run down the street, but the freeze rays can pick up quite the distance, lassoing them to ground with ease. Two Toy Soldiers walk to the last house on the street, passing by their comrades as they drag their bounties back to Amazing Co. 

“Last house on the left,” one of the Toys says to the other, signaling to the small shack sitting in the dawn of sunlight. The leader walks up to the door and bangs on it, standing back with his rifle ready. However, no one comes to answer it. He tries a few more times before looking at his partner and shrugging. “Should I bust the door down?” 

“What are they gonna do about it, right?” Both of the Toys get a good laugh out of this. Surely, an Elf by himself is no match for two bigger adversaries. The Toy kicks the door down and walks inside. He motions for his partner to walk inside with him. They cover each other’s back as they do a quick survey of the house. 

“It doesn’t seem like anyone’s here, Ferg” says the trailing Toy. “Or we’re in the wrong house.” Just then, some rustling comes from up above. The Toys look over at a staircase. “Bingo.” 

Ferg, the Toy Solider, motions for his partner to stay behind as he walks up the staircase. He gets to about the fourth step when a creaky piece of wood sets off a trap. Before he can react, his head is catapulted from his body via a swinging can of paint. His partner jumps back but still manages to get paint splatter on his uniform. 

“Holy shit,” says the terrified toy soldier. “Ferg, you OK?” He kicks at his fallen partner, but gets no response. He aims his rifle at the top of the stair case and slowly walks up, making sure to skip that fourth step. As he gets to the top, he takes a sigh of relief and comes to a door. On the other side is a blow torch that sets his head on fire when he walks through the threshold. 

The Toy drops his weapon and runs into a bathroom, where he sticks his head in a full bathtub. The fire is put out but the relief is a fleeting feeling, as the water begins to freeze into ice around his head, leaving him stuck in the tub from the neck up. Holding the freeze rifle is Rudy, his nose flickering just a bit. He slings it across his back and leaves a note that reads “Kringle Lives.”

Rudy looks in the mirror and his nose stops flashing. He walks into another room and opens up a closet, where Buddy and two smaller Elves emerge with bags. The quartet quietly exit the house and tiptoe their way down the street, with Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer guiding the way. 

 

**************

Frost plays fetch with one of the Drone Dogs in his office as Bailey walks in. He jumps back in horror when he sees the dog going to town on a little toy elf. 

“Oh my,” frets Bailey. “Is that Jingles?” 

“No, that’s Dingy or Blingy or whatever the hell his name was. I don’t know, they’re all the same to me. Is he ready for me?” 

“Yes sir, we’ve chilled the room to maximum cold and he’s good to go.”  

“Well alright, then! Let’s go see our Employee of the Month!” Frost heads out with Bailey, but not before giving his Drone Dog another pat on the head and quick toss. He throws the elf toy up in the air as the dog grabs it by the chest, shakes it and rips it to shreds. “Good boy!”

They walk down the long corridors and disappear into a giant elevator, taking it all the way down the basement. When they get out, they come to two large steel doors that only unlock with a password. 

Frost adjusts his suit and walks in to the freezing cold room. He grabs a box by the door and takes out it’s contents: a scarf, a button, a corn cob pipe and several pieces of coal. He uses the items to make a face on a big ball of snow sitting atop two other balls of snow, trapped in a steel outfit. He grabs a top hat from a hook and places it on the very top. Suddenly, the snow blinks over the two lumps of coal placed inches apart. 

“Wake up, sleepy head,” Frost says with a smirk. “We’ve got work to do...” 

TO BE CONTINUED....