Twas the Night Before Mischief…
November 30, Elf Launchpad, North Pole
“Ho, ho, ho!” Santa boomed. “Let the season begin!”
A great cheer roared through the crowd of elves. They clapped, jumped and shouted at the conclusion of Santa’s annual Mischief Maker Launch Address. A red, white and green blur rocketed high into the air as elves soared to their assigned homes.
A trio lingered behind.
“Santa,” said Nim, a wiry, brown-haired Mischief Maker. “Any advice on how to keep our Top Shelf Elf status?”
Nim’s partner, Lil, nodded eagerly.
“We shouldn’t bother Santa with our questions,” said Glitter, a prim look of disapproval on her furry face. “It’s not fair to the other elves.”
“Well they could have stayed behind and asked too,” said Lil.
Santa smiled indulgently and shook his head. “I’m afraid I can’t help you three. Glitter is right. It wouldn’t be fair to the others.”
Nim shrugged. “Oh well. It was worth a try!”
“Have a good season,” said Santa. “And try to not to make too much mischief.”
With a wink, a twirl and a bow, the Top Shelf Elf Team soared into the night.
a pinch of homestead 