Oh Little Elf on Santa’s list
Of bad and naughty sprites
You cannot do a single thing
But sit and sulk all night
Oh Nim you are a bad elf
You’ve ruined all the days
Now Lil must do it all alone
While Glitter huffs and brays
“Stick to the real words Nim,” Glitter said and added more bubbles to his bath.
“Santa told us to make you relax,” said Lil. “He sent this letter for you.”
Nim took the letter with a gloomy frown. This was a busy time of year for Santa. Sending a personal letter with everything else he had on his cookie plate could not be a good sign.
With trembling fingers, he cracked the seal.
Ho, ho, hope this letter finds you well on the road to recovery. I don’t like scolding my elves so I’ll just say this. If you cannot relax and get well, I’ll have to pull some of the Toymakers out to bring you back to the North Pole.
I don’t want to do it, Nim, but if I get another angry parent letter…I’ll have no choice.
I’ve sent a temporary partner for Lil so Glitter can stay and keep you company.
Be good, Nim. I expect to see you fully recovered in one week.
Nim looked up in outrage. Glitter was pawing at the floor nervously.
“Who is it?”
“Well…he’s new to the Mischief Makers,” said Lil.
“A newbie? Santa sent a newbie to replace me?”
“He’s not a replacement, Nim.” Lil’s voice sounded too bright.
“He’s a temporary fill-in until you get well,” said Glitter.
“And? Where is this intruder?” Nim felt ridiculous sitting in a crockpot full of bubbles while some interloper was out invading his territory.
Lil sighed. “Figgy? FIGGY!”
“Figgy?” said Nim. “Like…the pudding? Ridiculous name for an elf.”
A green clad elf flew merrily to the crockpot and landed in front of Lil with a perfect triple backflip. “Yes Ma’am! Reporting for duty!”
“Figgy, I’d like you to meet Nim.”
“Hello sir! Can I just say how happy I am to be a part of the team.”
“No,” Nim said coldly. “You cannot.”
Figgy’s face fell. Lil’s lips lowered. Glitter grimaced.
“Well,” said Figgy after a pause. “This is awkward.”
Lil laughed nervously. “Why don’t you go toast the bread Figgy. I need to talk to Nim.”
Figgy zipped off to the kitchen.
“The bread?” asked Nim.
“It was Figgy’s idea. We’re going to wear the toast and write…”. Lil’s voice trailed off at the look on Nim’s face.
“Well,” said Nim stiffly. “You’d better get going.”
“Nim, I…”. But Nim had turned away, humming his sad and mournful version of Oh, Little Town of Bethlehem.
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