MM2022 Day 15: Jingle and the Jones

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“What else did he say?” Pixie asked Nim after he’d finished telling them about the ‘talking to’ Santa gave him for the previous night’s shenanigans.

“Well, he’s not happy, but I did think I saw a little twinkle in his eye and I know his lips twitched.”

“So…we’re not in trouble?”

“Oh, he’ll have to reprimand us somewhat, if only to save face in front of Elven Resources. But, I think he is secretly glad we ‘fixed’ Merry as he put it.”

“Plus,” said Lil as she landed beside Nim. We think he may have engineered it that we ‘help’ Merry.”

Figgy and Pixie giggled.

“Where are you two off to tonight?” asked Nim.

“We are going to the Jones’ house to help Jingle with five competitive and rambunctious kids,” said Figgy.

“Yes,” added Pixie. “She is apparently having difficulty keeping them from destroying their house. It sounds like they are rather…energetic.”

“Well, good luck!” said Lil.

“And, have fun!” said Nim.

Pixie and Figgy jumped into the air and headed off to meet Jingle at the Jones’ house.

* * * *

They gazed around the kitchen in shock. Games and toys were strewn everywhere, confetti and glitter on the counters and a half-finished game of monopoly had exploded all over the table.

“Where do you think Jingle is?” asked Figgy. “I thought she was going to meet us here.”


“Did you hear that?” asked Pixie.


“Where is it coming from asked Figgy?”


Concerned at the frantic tone of that last cry for help, Pixie and Figgy raced around the room looking for the source of the terrified scream.

“Found her! She’s over here!” called Figgy.

When Pixie caught up with Figgy, she gasped at the state of the poor elf. Until, that is, she saw that Jingle was laughing. Hysterically, and perfectly at ease in the Tupperware container of cheesy snowballs.

“Oh thank goodness you guys are here! I need your help!” She threw a snowball at them.

“You seem…ok to me,” said Pixie.

“Me? Oh, yes I’m fine. But these kids are SOOOO energetic, that I have already gone through all the activities I had planned for the season! I could really use a little help coming up with more.”

Figgy and Pixie smiled. Nim and Lil had come to their rescue many times when they’d first started and didn’t really know what to do, or had run out of good ideas. Now, it was their turn to help.

“Ok, Jingle,” said Pixie. “What have you done so far?”

“Let’s see. I set up an obstacle course. Sledding down the stairs. Snowball fight. Floor is lava. That sort of thing.”

“Sounds like the Jingles like more active activities. Have you tried Minute-to-Win-It games?” asked Figgy.

“Minute-to-Win-It games?” asked Jingle. “What are those?”

“What are they?” asked Pixie.

“Only the most fun games on the planet!” said Figgy.

“Here, we’ll show you.”

Pixie helped Jingle out of the snowballs and led her to the living room where they spent several hours brainstorming games for Jingle to play with the Jones. A game or two for every night until Christmas.

“Thanks you two!” said Jingle. “You two should write a book with ideas like this for other Mischief Makers who get stuck in the same old, same old ideas.”

Jingle waved as Figgy and Pixie flew back to the North Pole thinking about Jingle’s idea and wondering…

MM2022 Day 14: Merry and the Martins

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Pixie and Figgy watched as Glitter went galloping across the North Pole, making a straight shot to Santa’s Workshop.

“Something must be wrong,” said Figgy and he and Pixie joined Nim and Lil swooping after Glitter.

When they entered the workshop, they knew immediately who was causing the alarm.

“Oh,” said Figgy, sounding annoyed. “It’s just Merry…again.”

Pixie sighed. “I wonder what it is this time.”

Lil shook her head. “She’s probably complaining about her kid again. You should have heard her the other night. ‘She finds me too fast, I don’t know what to do.’ Well, stop hiding in plain site for starters.”

Nim dropped his voice to a whisper. “Well, I heard from Tink, who got it from Shimmer, that on the first night, she refused to go at kick-off because she just realized that she was afraid of heights.”

“Erm, she’s a Mischief Maker, how can she possibly be afraid of heights? Flying is in our blood!”

They quieted down as Santa made his way toward them with Merry following close behind. A small smirk on her face.

“Figgy, Pixie, just the two I am looking for.”

Nim and Lil, sensing danger, started to slowly back away.

“Not so fast you two,” Santa chortled. “I’d like you all to be in on this project.”

“But, Sir,” began Figgy. “We have a very special assignment tonight and really should get back to planning.”

“Oh the Carlsons can wait. Between the five of us, I have my doubts that it actually is a B.R.A.T.T. house. Flip and Pip are such pranksters that my guess is they were laying a trap for you two anyway.”

“Of course, Santa,” said Pixie with a resigned expression. “How can we be of help?”

“Wonderful! I knew I could count on the four of you,” said Santa with a twinkle in his eye. “I’ll let Merry here explain what is going on. I need to get back to the electronics department. Apparently, our game testers are getting a little too competitive.”

With a twinkle in his eye, Santa left.

“So, Merry. What’s going on?” Figgy asked.

“Well, you know, Mischief Making takes so much energy. I’m just exhausted, like all the time. So, I thought you guys could, you know, take over for a night or two. Or, even the rest of the season, if it’s no trouble.”

Merry’s eyes sparkled with cunning.

“Merry,” said Lil impatiently. “You know very well that all of the Mischief Makers are expending maximum energy making this season memorable for their charges. Do you really think you deserve special treatment just because you’re a little tired??”

“And just because your father is the head of Elven Resources,” Pixie muttered.

Merry just smiled and gazed at them smugly.

“Ok, Merry,” said Figgy with a smile. “We’d be happy to help you out.”

Pixie, Lil, Nim and Merry looked at Figgy in shock.

“We will?” asked Nim.

“Of course,” continued Figgy. “We are always willing to lend a fellow Mischief Maker a hand. And, afterall, this is what BRATT is for, right Pixie?”

Pixie noticed Figgy’s eyebrows dancing and smiled. “Yes, Figgy. You are absolutely correct. We are here for all BRATTs.”

Nim and Lil grinned, finally catching on and wondering just what Figgy had in store for Merry.

* * *

“Ok, ok!” squealed Merry. “I don’t think I really need your help, you guys can just go!”

Lil and Pixie held Merry by the legs while attaching a bungee cord to her waist at stair railing in the Martin’s entryway. They had long since abandoned any pretense that they were actually there to help Merry.

“Come on, Merry!” Figgy called from his bouncing bungee. “The air is fine down here and it’s—BOOOIIING—FUN!!!

“Woo-hoo!” Nim swung by Figgy, giving him a high five.

“But,” stammered Merry. “I’m afraid of heights!”

“No you’re not,” said Lil. “We all know that is just something you made up to get out of Mischief Making.”

“Yeah,” added Pixie. “Now get down there and have some fun!”

Pixie and Lil took great pleasure in pushing Merry off the ledge and felt only a small tingle of guilt.

“You know,” said Lil as Merry screamed on the way down. “We don’t really know if she was lying about the heights fear.”

“Meh,” said Pixie. “Either this cures her fear, or her laziness. It’s all the same in my book.”

Lil laughed and whole-heartedly agreed.

MM22 Day 13: Biscotti and the Bakers

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“Pixie, Figgy, over here!” Lil called from across the Elfateria.

Pixie and Figgy zoomed over to Lil who sat with her arm around a tired and worried looking elf.

“What’s going on Lil?” Figgy asked.

“Well, this is Biscotti and she has a litt–.”

“Erin doesn’t like me,” said Biscotti.

“I’m sure that isn’t true,” assured Pixie automatically. “Er, who’s Erin?”

“Yeah, who is this ‘Erin’ and why doesn’t she like elves?” asked Figgy.

“Erin is Biscotti’s charge,” said Lil. “And I’m quite certain she has nothing against elves. Go on, tell them what you were telling me.”

“Well, she won’t eat any of the treats I leave, or play any of the games I set up.”

“She doesn’t even try the treats?” asked Pixie.

“Well,” said Biscotti. “She nibbles. A sprinkle here. A chocolate chip there. But then, she just plays with her food.”

Figgy shivered. “I have heard of kids not eating their brussels sprouts – blech – but to turn down treats? This is new territory.”

“What have you tried so far, Biscotti?” asked Pixie.

“First night, hot cocoa bar of course.”

“Ah. The standard opener,” said Figgy.

“But I really went all out. Marshmallows, candy cane stir sticks, 5 different flavors of whipped cream, and all the sprinkles.”

“That sounds delicious!” said Lil.

“I thought so, but Erin ate one sprinkle and then used everything else to build a giant marshmallow castle with candy cane pillars and sprinkle shingles.”

“Wow, that sounds impressive!” said Pixie.

“It was,” Biscotti huffed. “But that’s not the point!”

“Of course,” said Pixie.

“But, did you think to snap a picture?” asked Figgy.

Flames fairly shot from Biscotti’s eyes in response.

“Er, nevermind.”

“Next night, I set up a make-your-own-smore bar. I even had a little flameless fire that actually roasted the marshmallows.”

“Whoa,” said Figgy.

“Yeah, but Erin built a small graham cracker cottage out of the materials. This time, the shingles were chocolate squares.”

“Biscotti,” said Pixie. “I’m hearing a theme.”

“A theme?”

“Yes. Erin seems very interested in building and creating.”

Biscotti stared blankly at Pixie.

“The marshmallow castle, smores cottage …”.

“I think you might be on to something, Pixie,” interrupted Figgy.

“I think, that maybe, Erin has been enjoying everything you have set up. Maybe, just not in the way you’d intended, Biscotti.”

“Really?” Biscotti’s eyes began to sparkle. “Do you really think this is all just one big misunderstanding?”

“It usually is,” said Figgy knowledgeably.

“Well, there’s only one way to find out!” said Lil.


The three elves flew swiftly to Erin’s house and peered in through the dining room window.

“Coast is clear.” Figgy started forward.

“Wait!” Biscotti pulled him back and just in time. A small, red-haired girl came zooming into the dining room with a popsicle stick creation to show her mom.

“Mommy, mommy! I need more popsicle sticks to build my chateau!”

“We’ll have to get them at the store tomorrow sweetie, it’s bed time.”

As they watched Erin’s mom take her upstairs, Biscotti giggled. “I know what to do tonight!”

MM22 Day 12: Spunky and the Smiths

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Pixie and Figgy landed outside the Smith’s home and pulled out the file they’d just received.

“Santa said this was an emergency case?” asked Figgy.

“Yes, he said he wanted us to make it top priority tonight so I asked Nim and Lil to cover the Haroldson’s,” said Pixie.

“Awe, that’s too bad,” said Figgy. “I was looking forward to that one.”

Pixie glanced at him. “You were?”

“Oh yeah! Pip said it was the parents who were the B.R.A.T.T.’s. It’s not every season an elf gets to pull pranks on the parents.”

“It’s not?” Pixie asked. “I mean, isn’t that what we normally do? Every season?”

Figgy contemplated that thought. “Oh, I guess you’re right. But still, it would have been fun.”

Pixie smiled, returning her attention to the file. “Ok, well, it’s not the kids who are a problem here either. It says here that Spunky has a little too much spunk. Let’s see…died toilet water green, well, that’s not too bad…then, shaving cream on faces…goldfish in beds, and…oh boy.”

“What?” asked Figgy.

Pixie cleared her throat. “Er…it seems as though Spunky has gotten himself in quite the bind. Here, look.”

Pixie handed him the folder and pointed to the paragraph she’d just read.

“Yikes!” exclaimed Figgy. “Do you think he really filled the parent’s bed with bed bugs? Real bed bugs?”

“Based on the complaint letter on the second page, I’d say it’s more than a possibility.”

Figgy flipped to the letter:

Santa, or whoever is in charge of this so-called elf,

Please consider this a formal complaint with a promise of legal action if this behavior does not change, and fast! We wrote complaints several times last season and were assured that Spunky’s behavior would improve this year. That there would be consequences for his seriously destructive shenanigans.

We thought we had made clear our indignation at the goldfish in the beds and the vinegar in the milk, but this is way beyond what we will tolerate. Our kids’ pleas are only reason we are giving him another chance. One more incident even remotely destructive, and you can expect to hear from our lawyers. Destruction of property is not mischievous, it’s illegal!

Sincerely angry and fed up,

Fred and Molly Smith

“Whoa,” said Figgy. “What can we do?”

“Let’s start by finding Spunky before he does any more damage.”

As it turned out, it was easy to find Spunky. They flew in to the kitchen and found him sitting in the refrigerator drinking maple syrup from a straw and looking downcast. 

“Hey there, Spunky,” said Figgy. “What’s wrong?”

“Oh. Hi.” He gave a heavy sigh.

Figgy,” whispered Pixie. “Does he look…familiar?”

Figgy looked closer at Spunky and gasped. “You’re not, you can’t be related to—“.

“The Grinch?” asked Spunky. “Yes. I’m his second cousin. Twice removed.”

“Oh,” said Figgy.

“Yeah,” sighed Spunky. “When people look at me, they assume I’m just like him. But I’m not. I like Christmas. I just don’t understand why everyone can’t see that.”

“Spunky,” began Pixie. “Perhaps it’s the way you…express your, er, joy.”

Spunky looked at Pixie in confusion. “Huh?”

“Well,” she continued. “Most elves who like Christmas do things like, decorate with lights and tinsel. Not with spiders and bed bugs.”

Spunky looked unsure. “Really? But bed bugs are funny.”

“Not really,” said Figgy.

“The ones I know are. Amos told the funniest joke last night and Larry can do the best moth impression I’ve ever seen.”

“Um, that’s—what?” Pixie asked.

“Anyway,” said Figgy. “Let us help you find other ways to show your Christmas spirit. Ways that won’t get you relegated to Deer Dung Duty.”

“Ok,” said Spunky. “I guess I’m willing to try anything.”

Pixie and Figgy spent the next few hours creating a list of appropriate and approved Mischief Maker activities. When they were done, Spunky still looked skeptical, but was at least willing to give their way a try.

“You’re sure these mustaches will make them laugh?” he asked as he struggled to place a mustache on the cat. I mean, they didn’t laugh at the bed bugs, and those were hilarious.”

“Trust us,” said Pixie. “This is a classic.”

Spunky still looked uncertain, but Figgy’s smile and nod of encouragement seemed to settle his doubts.

“Bed bugs are funny?” Pixie shook her head as she and Figgy zoomed back to the North Pole. “And I thought I’d heard it all!”

MM22 Day 11: Hinkle and the Harrisons

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“See,” Hinkle, Tommy’s elf, whispered. “This is what I deal with every night!”

Pixie, Figgy, Nim and Lil watched from the window sill as Tommy threw the worst temper tantrum anyone had ever seen.

Books went flying, stuffed animals lost their stuffing, and Tommy’s rage filled the small home.

“Certainly not every night?” said Nim.

“I’ve been trapped, drowned, kicked across the room and everything you can think of.”

“Kicked?” asked Figgy.

Hinkle nodded.

“Drowned?” gasped Lil.

Hinkle nodded.

“Trapped?” said Pixie.

“Yes,” said Hinkle. “And everything else you can think of. My magic has been restored so many times that Dr. Stuffins says I’m in danger of losing it completely.”

“Well,” said Nim. “Then this is Tommy’s very last chance.”

“Yes,” agreed Figgy. “One more mishap and he’s done. For good.”

Quickly, while Tommy’s mother was hauling a kicking and screaming boy off to bed, Hinkle led Pixie, Figgy, Nim, and Lil into the living room.

“How are we going to fix him?” Hinkle asked, wringing his hands.

Nim stretched his shoulders and cracked his knuckles. “Let’s do the old one-two strike.”

Lil nodded. “Yes! One, a song encouraging him to behave.”

“Two,” said Nim. “A stern warning about the repercussions if he doesn’t change his ways.”

Pixie and Figgy tried, very hard, not to roll their eyes and laugh. But…in the end, they lost the battle.

“What?” asked Nim and Lil.

“That may have worked back when you two were in the trenches,” said Pixie. “But the kids have changed. Threats no longer work.”

Figgy nodded. “Now, action is the only solution for this sort of atrocious behavior.”

“Geez,” said Nim. “It’s not like it’s been that long since we were in the field.”

“Yes.” Lil sounded hurt. “It’s only been a season or two, and we still come out to help. Like tonight.”

Cowed, Figgy and Pixie rushed to assure them. “Oh, that’s not what we meant! It’s just, I’m sure Hinkle has tried all of the old ways of improving behavior.”

“And,” added Figgy. “What we need is to try something new.”

Slightly mollified, Nim and Lil looked at Hinkle.

“Well,” he said. “Yes, I have tried the usual routes. A song. A poem. A letter to Santa. Their behavior may have improved slightly, but on the whole, nothing has changed.”

Pixie smiled. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking, Figgy?”

Figgy rubbed his hands together. “That we should freeze all of Tommy’s socks and underwear?”

“What?! No! I was thinking we should have a little sale.”

“Oh,” said Figgy. “Yes, I suppose that would work as well. Not quite as fun. But I’m sure it will do the job just the same.”

“Sale?” asked Nim. “What kind of sale?”

“A garage sale of sorts,” said Pixie.

“We’ll sticker all of Tommy’s toys and put them for sale in the living room.”

Pixie turned to Hinkle. “Does he have any favorite toys we should start with?”

Hinkle smiled slowly, and a little disturbingly. “Oh yes. We can start with his stuffed animal collection.”

Not quite liking Hinkle’s expression, Nim asked, “Why the animals?”

“They attacked me on the first night.”

“Come again?” said Lil.

“Tommy had them all in a net, and when I entered his room, they rained down on me like some plush, squishy rainstorm. It was terrifying.”

“Stuffed animals it is!” said Figgy.

MM22 Day 10: Fred and the Finnegans

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“I’m still not sure why you need me to come along as well,” grumbled Glitter as she followed Pixie and Figgy through the sky to their next assignment.

“We told you, Glitter,” said Pixie patiently. “We need you to carry the…equipment.”

“What ‘equipment’?” asked Glitter suspiciously.

“Oh, you know,” said Figgy. “The treats, snacks, prizes, shrinking machine. That sort of thing.”

“Oh balderdash. You two are perfectly capable of carrying—shrinking machine?”

A rather small, bedraggled looking elf popped his head around the window sill. “Hello.”

Glitter turned, startled, to face him.

“Hey, Fred,” said Pixie. “Are you ready?”

“Yep! I can’t wait to get started.”

“What,” asked Glitter. “Exactly, do we need a shrinking machine for?”

“Oh it was Figgy’s idea,” said Fred. “You see, Sam, my kid, has a big problem and shrinking is the perfect solution!”

Glitter’s eyebrows reached the sky.

“We’d better start at the beginning,” said Pixie, trying, and failing to stifle a laugh at Glitter’s expression.

“Oh,” said Fred nodding to Glitter. “Right. You’re new.”

“Excuse me?” said Glitter in icy tones. “I am not new, young elf. I’ve been at this for years!”

“Oh, I didn’t mean–. That is to say—.”

“It’s ok, Fred,” interrupted Figgy. “Glitter is just a little grumpy because we pulled her away from…what is it you are doing, Glitter? Closeted away with Mrs. C.?”

Glitter took a deep, calming breath. She straightened her hooves and shook out her antlers. “Ok. Tell me what is going on with this house and why, on earth, we need a shrinking machine.”

“Fred, go ahead,” urged Pixie.

Fred smiled. “Well, as I mentioned, Sam, my kid, has a big problem. He can’t seem to stop lying.”

“Lying?” Glitter asked. “About what?”


Glitter glanced at Figgy and Pixie who nodded.

Fred continued. “Sam Finnegan has a lying problem. He lies to his parents about messes he makes. He lies to his teachers about homework he’s not done. He makes up fantastical stories about things that…never happened to him.”

“So,” Pixie jumped in. “We’ve decided that rather than punish him, we’ll give him fodder for stories.”

When Glitter did not look convinced, Figgy added. “We are hoping to turn his energy from lying to storytelling.”

“How is that different?” asked Glitter.

“Oh it’s very different,” said Pixie. “Lying is hurtful. Storytelling is entertaining.”

“We are giving him a creative outlet,” finished Fred.

Glitter slowly nodded. “It seems you’ve already come up with a plan, so what do you need me, and the shrinking machine for?”

“We need a list of story ideas for Sam and thought you would have some great prompts from your time at Reindeer Training Camp, and–.”

Glitter interrupted Figgy. “And you were hoping you could find out what I’ve been doing with Mrs. C?”

Figgy blushed. “Well. Yes. We were thinking you might confide in us if we got you away from the North Pole.”

Glitter shook her head and brayed. “Not going to happen, Figgy.”

Figgy and Pixie sighed.

“And, the shrinking machine?”

“Ah,” said Pixie. “That is for the first story prompt. Come on, let’s get inside.”

The elves and reindeer flew into the kitchen, landing lightly on the table. Pixie pulled a box of cookies from her bag while Figgy and Fred set the shrinking machine up.

“Ok, ready for the Christmas Magic!” said Fred.

The three elves worked together, sprinkling magical dust over the machine while Glitter jotted down several story prompts to leave with the cookies.

They hauled a cookie over and watched as it went in one side, a big cookie, and came out the other, a tiny cookie.

“It worked!” shouted Fred.

“Of course it did,” said Figgy. “We’re elves, Fred.”

Pixie giggled.

Glitter could not help but smile as well…until she noticed the time.

“Oh deer! I have to go!”

Without a backward glance, leaving papers flying in her wake, Glitter rushed out the window and flew into the stars.

MM22 Day 9: Hermey and the Hendersons

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“There you are Glitter!” shouted Figgy as he raced to catch up with the swift reindeer. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?”

Pixie sped in behind Figgy, panting. “Geez, where’s the fire, Glitter?!”

“Oh,” said Glitter. “Hello, Figgy, Pixie. Was there something you needed?”

“Well, we just wanted to say hi,” Figgy said, sounding hurt.

“We haven’t seen you around much lately,” added Pixie.

Glitter sighed. “Of course, I miss you too. It’s just been…busy.”

“Busy,” said Figgy. “With?”

Glitter cleared her throat. “Er, stuff and…things.”

“Ok, Glitter,” said Pixie, hands on hips. “Spill it.”

Figgy nodded in agreement.

“Look, it’s sort of a…secret project.”

Pixie tapped her toe.

Glitter went on. “Mrs. Claus is just not ready to say anything about the…project. Yet.”

Figgy scowled.

“I promise,” assured Glitter. “When I can say, you two, and Nim and Lil, will be the first to know.”

Not quite satisfied, but knowing further poking and prodding was futile, Pixie and Figgy nodded.

“Well,” said Glitter. “Gotta run!” She turned and raced toward Santa’s house for what they could only assume was a secret meeting with Mrs. Claus.

“That was weird,” said Pixie. “Why can’t she tell us about…whatever it is she’s doing with Mrs. C?”

“I don’t know,” said Figgy, his face scrunched in thought.

“Ok,” said Pixie with a determined look. “We can’t worry about this right now. We need to get to Hermey’s house and help him with his twins.”

Figgy, who had not yet read Hermey’s file asked, “Twins only, right? I’m still having flashbacks to last season with the Malloy family.”

Pixie smiled. “Yes, just twins. Competitive ones according to the file. Let’s see what we can do to help poor Hermey.”


“As you can see,” said Hermey, leading Pixie and Figgy into the living room. “Sally and Suzy have been at it again. This time, they were having a contest on who could pop the most balloons in one minute.”

“But where on earth did all this confetti come from?” asked Figgy.

“The balloons,” said Hermey. “They were filled with confetti.”

Figgy gaped.

“What other things do they like to do?” asked Pixie.

“Oh, anything that involves a race or a timed activity. They just want to beat each other.”

Something tickled the back of Pixie’s mind.

A race.

A game.

A competition.

“Post-it notes!” said Pixie. “Lots and lots of post-it notes. We’ll need two colors.”

Hermey and Figgy stared blankly at Pixie.

“Er,” said Figgy. “Not sure this is the time for office supplies, Pixie.”

“No, Figgy. Don’t you remember setting up the post-it note race for Joe and Jake?”

“Oh yeah! They each had their own color and they had to see who could collect them all first.”

“That sounds right up Sally and Suzy’s alley. Where would one find ‘post it’ notes.?”

After zooming around and attaching sticky notes on any and every available spot, the Figgy and Hermey collapsed on the kitchen table next to Pixie.

“Thank you both,” said Hermey. “I know they will really enjoy this game, and it gives me a small break from the chaos. I just don’t know what I’ll do the rest of the season.”

“Oh don’t worry about that,” said Pixie as she handed a tightly rolled scroll to Hermey. “I’ve made you a list of highly competitive activities that are sure to tire them out. There are enough on there for the rest of the year!”

Hermey, overcome with gratitude, fainted.

MM22 Day 8: Flick and the Fosters

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Pixie and Figgy were talking quietly outside the Reindeer Romp when Nim and Lil approached.

“What are you two doing?” asked Nim.

“Spying,” said Figgy.

“On Glitter,” added Pixie.

“Oh,” said Lil. “That’s…why?”

Figgy sighed. “She’s been avoiding us.”

Nim cocked his head to the side. “I’m sure that is not true.”

“No, really,” said Pixie. “After Cookie’s house last night, her pager, or whatever it is, went off and she galloped away without explanation.”

Nim snorted. “Glitter has a pager?”

“She does,” said Figgy. “Mrs. Claus gave it to her this year. For ‘Reindeer Game emergencies.’ ”

Nim and Lil looked startled.

“What?” asked Figgy.

“Well,” said Lil. “It’s just…Mrs. Clause doesn’t normally get involved with the Reindeer Games. She’s more in charge of the Gnome and Narwal Reception.”

“So? Maybe Santa wants her to take a more active role in the Reindeer Games.”

“Maybe,” said Nim. “Still, it’s odd.”

They were interrupted by a tangle of limbs falling at their feet. Dazed, the gangly elf looked up at the foursome. “H-hi, I’m Flick. Sorry I’m late.”

Pixie pulled out the paperwork and flipped through to Flick’s letter as Figgy helped him to his feet and brushed the snow off.

“Hi Flick, I’m Figgy. This is Pixie. And, you know Nim and Lil of course.”

“Oh I know who you all are,” he said reverently. “And I am so honored that you are going to help me with my family.”

“Oh,” said Pixie, finally finding the right letter. “It says here that your kids, Harry and Lily, are addicted to…is this right? They are addicted to Hide and Seek?”

Figgy, Nim, and Lil all snorted.

Flick looked flustered. “Yes, that’s right. They won’t stop playing the game with each other and I think that they think that I’m supposed to search for them each morning.”

“This seems like an easy fix,” said Figgy. “Have you tried leaving them a note, or The Storybook to explain.”

“Of course!” Flick responded quickly. “I’ve tried the storybook, I’ve tried a note, I’ve tried writing on the mirror with shaving cream, I’ve tried…”.

“It’s ok Flick,” said Pixie. “We know you’ve tried. Let’s get going and see what we can do to help get your house back on track.”

“Bye guys!” said Nim.

“We’ll keep an eye out for Glitter,” said Lil.

Figgy, Pixie and Flick flew through the starry skies, ready to tackle Flick’s problem head on. All was quiet when they landed in the living room. Flick let out a long, heavy sigh.

“It’s ok, Flick,” said Pixie. “I thought of something we can try on the flight over.”

Flick looked hopefully at Pixie. “Really?”

“Yes. I think a scavenger hunt is in order.”

Figgy looked doubtful. “A scavenger hunt? Really?”

“Have you tried that, Flick?” asked Pixie.

“No, but—.”

“Then we’ve nothing to lose!”

“Even if they do the hunt, they’ll just go back to hiding from me tomorrow.”

Pixie gave a sly smile. “Oh, but this scavenger hunt will last the rest of the season. They will have to get up each morning to find the next clue.”

Flick’s eyes brightened as he caught on. “And to find the next clue, they’ll have to find me?”

Pixie nodded.

Figgy looked at her in awe. “That is a great idea, Pixie!”

“I’ve been known to have a few good ideas.”

Figgy laughed.

“Ok, Flick. You and Figgy go get the items we need for this first night and I’ll jot down the clues for the rest of the season.”

“Yes ma’am! What do we need?”

“First, I’ll need a piece of cardstock, the book A Christmas Carol–every library should have it, and a marker to change the title just a bit.”

Not sure where she was going with this, but trusting her just the same. Flick and Figgy gathered all the materials she needed and reported back, watching as she wrote “A Christmas Critter” on the piece of cardstock.

“We’ll start the hunt off with a poem…

He sees you when you’re sleeping
He knows when you’re awake
He knows that you have lots of books
So find the one with a mistake…

…and at the end of the season, they will find a real, live Christmas Critter under the tree!”

Figgy clapped while Flick looked doubtful.

“What if, you know, the parents aren’t excited about this…critter?”

Pixie grinned. “Don’t worry. They’re going to love it!”

MM22 Day 7: Cookie and the Calloways

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Listen, click play!

“Whoa.” Figgy stared at the clever trap laid for Cookie.

“Yes. Whoa, indeed,” Cookie said grimly. “I told you. Her behavior is atrocious. She is sly and sneaky and she’s been laying traps for me since day one!”

Pixie and Glitter carefully tip-toed around the large mound of cake and treats. On first glance, it looked innocent and tempting. Piles and piles of sweet treats. Enough to tempt any elf. Sugar cubes, chocolate, sprinkles and a large bottle of maple syrup at the very top.

“But she made a mistake this time,” said Cookie with satisfaction.

“She did?” asked Pixie.

“Yep,” he pointed to the bottle of syrup. “That syrup is NOT the right grade.”

Figgy peered closer at the bottle. “But, it’s grade A. That’s the best, isn’t it?”

Cookie looked imperiously at Figgy. “Any elf worth his sugar knows that grade B is, in every way, superior to grade A.”

Figgy glared at Cookie. “Oh no it isn’t! Grade A is the best!” He looked and Pixie to back him up, but she was distracted by the string attached to the cap of the syrup bottle.

“Now you listen here, Figgy. Grade B is better! It’s darker in color and much more flavorful!”

“But, Grade A is lighter, crisper—“.

“Grade A has no depth of flavor, no time soak up all that maple taste. It’s taken from the tree too early!”

Figgy opened and closed his mouth, flabbergasted. Grade B, better? Ludicrous.

Glitter stomped her hooves, interrupting what was clearly becoming an all-out battle. “What did you find, Pixie?”

“Clever,” murmured Pixie. “Very clever.”

Figgy, with a final glare at Cookie, joined Pixie near the pile. “What’s clever?”

Pixie pointed. “See that string? Looks like fishing line. If you follow it from the cap of the bottle down to this pile, you can almost see the tiny trap door.”

Figgy, Cookie and Glitter peered closer at the middle of the pile.

“What do you think is inside?” asked Figgy.

“Nothing good,” grumbled Cookie.

Carefully, very, very carefully, Pixie lifted the small flap and peered inside. “It looks like…a whole bag of sugar!”

“Really?” asked Cookie skeptically.

“Yes, and she’s dyed it different colors. Almost like Christmas sprinkles.”

“Colored sugar!” shouted Figgy, and without stopping to consider, he dove straight for the door as if he were going for a swim.

“PLLLTTTHH!” Figgy surfaced spitting and wiping frantically at his tongue. “SALT! IT’S SALT!”

Cookie sighed. “I told you. She’s devious.”

Pixie pulled Figgy out of the trap and helped dust the salt off of him. Glitter pushed a shot of maple syrup and a sugar cube to him.

“Thanks,” he said gratefully. “How could she do that?” He looked sympathetically at Cookie and he gulped the syrup.

“Devious,” repeated Cookie.

Pixie met Glitter’s eyes and nodded. It was clear what needed to be done.

“Well,” started Pixie. “Clearly Casey Calloway is bored.”

“Bored?!” spluttered Cookie. “How can she be bored!? I haven’t even had the chance to do ANY of thing things I had planned. I’m too busy trying to escape from all of these horrendous traps she sets!”

“Trust us,” said Glitter. “With this sort of atrocious behavior, there is only one remedy.”

Cookie and Figgy looked expectantly at Glitter and Pixie.

“Games,” said Pixie.

“Obviously,” agreed Glitter.

“How do you figure that?” Figgy asked.

“Cookie, what were the other traps this season?”

“Oh let’s see,” said Cookie peevishly. “There was the little obstacle course she set up for me that ended in a mud bath. Then, there was the terrifying jack-in-the-box at the end of the race track she’d made. And, my personal favorite, sarcasm intended, the exploding bowling pin.”

“Exploding bowling pin?” asked Figgy.

“That’s right. She lured me in with what looked like an innocent game of bowling, but when my ball struck the pins, they exploded and rained down sticky goo. It took me ages to get it out of my hat.”

“But don’t you see, Cookie,” asked Glitter. “Casey loves games.”

Cookie stared incredulously at Glitter. “Games?”

“Yes,” added Pixie. “All we have to do is play along. We’ll start tonight and leave you with a list of other games to play with her.”

“Wait,” said Glitter, reaching into her harness. “I have an idea.”

She pulled out a box of Chessmen cookies. “Lets play a game!”

Figgy and Pixie eyed Glitter in awe. “So, you just…have those with you in case of…what? A game emergency?”

Glitter sniffed. “Well, you never know when you’ll have time for a quick game.”

Cookie smiled, willing to give the idea a try. “Ok, Knight to E4.”

MM2022 Day 6: Tinsel and the Taylors

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Listen, click play!

Figgy glared at Pixie furiously.

“Figgy,” said Pixie in exasperation. “I can feel your glare.”


“You should have explained the rules better. How was I supposed to know??”

“How were you supposed to—what? You don’t know that it is NOT ok to steal other peoples resources?”


“OR, destroy their houses that they worked very, VERY hard on?”

“I thought it was—.”

“And for goodness’ sake Pixie. Everyone knows that you are never, under any circumstances, supposed to dig…STRAIGHT DOWN!”


Figgy and Pixie turned to see a small, tiny really, elf waiting patiently in front of the Toy Shop.

“Oh, hello there,” said Pixie. “We were just, er, debriefing from last night’s job.”


Pixie rolled her eyes at Figgy and then turned back to the tiny elf. “You must be Tinsel?”

Tinsel nodded once.

Giving Figgy a “we’ll-talk-about-this-later” look, Pixie pulled out the folder on Tinsel’s assigned home. “Yes, of course. Let’s see, you have…Molly and she refuses to go to bed?”

Tinsel nodded a second time.

“Oh, that is a problem,” said Figgy.

Tinsel nodded a third time.

“Well, let’s get to the house and see what we have to work with. I’m sure we can figure some way to tire Molly out.”

Tinsel shot into the air toward Molly’s house, Pixie and Figgy close behind.


Fifteen minutes later, all three elves, having run down the hall and into the pantry, were panting and trying to catch their breath.

“She’s a menace!” grumbled Figgy.

“A terror,” added Pixie.

Tinsel nodded…again.

“Tinsel,” said Pixie, noticing that the elf had yet to speak. “Can you…that is to say, are you able to…”.

“Can you talk?” finished Figgy. “It’s just, you haven’t made a sound beyond clearing your throat.

Tinsel sighed and when she finally spoke, Pixie and Figgy were shocked by the tone of her voice. Expecting a high squeaky voice from one so small, what came out was a deep, baritone voice belonging to a much larger elf. Like Santa or the abominable snowman.

“I try not to. My voice is too loud, even at a whisper.”

“You’re whispering?” asked Figgy.

Tinsel nodded. “I think it might be why Molly doesn’t want to go to sleep. You see, she heard me on the first night and I’m pretty sure she thinks there is a big scary monster under her bed, so she finds any excuse not to go there.”

A loud gasp came from below. The elves peeked down to see Molly staring straight above the spot where they were hiding, a look of pure terror on her face.

“See,” said Tinsel, trying to be quieter. “She can—AGH!—hear me—AGHHHH!—even when I’m—AGGGGHHHH!—whispering.”

Pixie and Figgy could only stare. They were still unable to believe that such a deep voice came out of such a small body.

Tinsel nodded.

“Ok,” said Pixie, snapping out of her reverie. “We are just going to have to show Molly that there is absolutely nothing to be scared of.”

“How are we going to do that?” asked Tinsel.

“We’ll have to get a little goofy,” said Pixie.

“And a little messy,” added Figgy, picking up on Pixie’s plan.

Minecraft forgotten, Pixie and Figgy filled Tinsel in on the plan and got to work.


“Are you sure about this?” asked Tinsel staring at all the candy, sprinkles, icing, gummies, sugar coated chips, and ice cream cones strewn over the table.

“Trust us! Molly is going to love it. You said yourself she likes to do crafts. What better craft is there than sugar cone Christmas trees?”

“No, not that. I mean this!” Tinsel pointed to the sugar cone hat on top of his head. Icing and candy dripped down the sides into his eyes and all over his clothes. He felt ridiculous.

“Oh,” giggled Pixie. “Well, this way, maybe Molly won’t be so scared of you. It should work.

“Should? SHOULD??”

Pixie and Figgy backed away slowly. Tinsel was getting angry.

“Let us know how it goes!” shouted Figgy on his way out the door.

It was their cue.