Blip ‘Wiry’ Skipperson and his elite team of special forces black ops elves were on a cocoa break when all heckerdoodles broke loose in the workshop. Unknown invaders blew up part of the workshop. Just over twenty four hours until the Big Day, and the Big Man’s Sleigh had been stolen. The team tracked the sleigh on the Global Present-tracking System to an abandoned toy lab facility that hadn’t been in use since the early seventies. When they entered the facility, the team came face to face with a group of toys who had gone bad.
– December 23, 23:23 hours
I know we at the North Pole have the reputation for being nothing but Nice, but every now and then there’s an outbreak of Naughty. It usually hits the toys first. We never know why, but sometimes, toys just go Naughty.
The ring of five porcelain faced dolls stared at me. And I couldn’t look away. I was rooted in one spot. Sometimes, it just doesn’t matter how tough you are. When you look into the glassy eyes of Naughty, the Naughty looks into you.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I could hear my team yelling.
But in front of me, all I could see and hear was the ring of dollies. Staring. Saying, “Come play with us.”
A strong hand grabbed each shoulder of mine and yanked me backwards. The next thing I knew, I was looking at the ceiling. As soon as my brain unmushed itself and started cranking away again, I heard a loud ‘thunk’, and a following ‘clop’ on the other side of the door. I looked up, and saw the blade of a knife sticking out of the door.
“What the reindeer dung was that?” I asked.
“Jacknife-in-a-box,” said Shade, “I read about them. Nasty little things. They can spring across the entire room, and they’ll do it just to get a chance at stabbing you in the face.”
“That thing would have stuffed my stocking. Thanks,” I said as I sat up, “How’s about we leave that room alone.”
Cambo chomped down on her candy cane. “How’s about we open up the door again and toss in some T-4.”
“Bad idea. Don’t want to alert the enemy.”
Cambo sneered, “Yeah, well anything Naughty is the enemy.”
“Can it, Cammy. We’ve got a mission to do. The mission comes first.”
As soon as I was upright, I threw another hand signal, and Shade slipped south down the corridor. Longshot trailed after her, his candy cane crossbow ready to provide whatever cover she might need.
Before I followed them, I took a moment to use my lock picking tools to relock the door. No sense in taking any chances. You never know if a toy is smart enough to figure out a doorknob or not. But I didn’t want to take a chance.
The east hallway we were in turned right and headed across the southern third of the building. The southern section of the building was all dorm rooms. This was where the workers and toy lab scientists lived. Shade stopped when she got to the first of the three large doors along the southern wall of the corridor. She clicked her radio.
Something was in there.
I slipped ahead to unlock the door, but when I got there I saw that this door didn’t even have a lock. It was just a large, loose swinging double door. There had been a sign on the wall next to the door, but it had fallen off the wall at some point in the last forty years and it was stuck in the snow and ice that had accumulated along the edge of the wall.
Shade opened the door, and we filed in, silently.
There was no one in sight. We were in a long room, about fifteen by forty. I could see through dirty windows that the room to our right was a cafeteria, and to our left it looked like one of the rooms had a lot of old gym equipment, and the other had a load of old rotted out comfy chairs, some bookshelves, and a movie projector.
At the end of the long room were a pair of Christmas trees. Lush, dark green trees. Just standing there. There was no one in sight.
We prowled around the room, but there was nothing.
“Sorry boss,” said Shade, “I could have sworn I heard something.”
The trees rustled in the breeze.
“Well, since we’re here, we might as well check out this section,” I said. “Shade, Cambo, check out the rec room. Doc, Longshot, come with me and check out the cafeteria.”
The cafeteria was about what you’d expect. Lots of tables. The kitchen along the back was separated from the rest of the room by a half-wall and a counter that you could serve food over.
“Hey boss, you think the pasta’s still good?” Longshot held up a can with a faded label.
“Trick question,” said Doc Bubbly, “The pasta was never good to begin with.”
Longshot poked his head into the walk-in freezer, which, up here in the North Pole, is just a door to a drafty uninsulated room. “Um… boss, you may wanna check this out.”
There was a ramp down. It had been blown up and collapsed, just like the one back in the main workshop. And next to the rubble was a familiar red bag. We’d found Santa’s Sack. Now all we needed was the sleigh.
I left a radio tag on the sack. If we didn’t make it back in time, the rescue teams would be able to find it as soon as the storm cleared up enough for radio contact.
We made our way back out, and Cammy and Shade were waiting for us. “Nothing here,” said Cammy, “We were waiting for you guys to check out the rec room.”
She started to saunter towards the door in the back of the room next to the two Christmas trees.
One of the pines rustled in the breeze.
We were indoors. And we hadn’t just opened any doors. There was no breeze.
“Cambo, duck and cover!” I yelled, but it was too late. Those weren’t Christmas trees, those were Wild Pines. Before Cammy could react, the tree spun at high speed and branch-slapped her so hard that she flew back across the room.
Always on target, Longshot fired. The sharpened candy cane hit dead center, scoring a hole in the tree’s trunk and sticking fast. Sap dripped from the wound, but a little poke isn’t going to stop a Wild Pine. Two of them was going to be a tall order. And elves have never been big on height.
Doc panicked, and threw a bottle of medicinal hot buttered rum at the trees. It splashed, covering one of them with something that smelled absolutely delicious, but now wasn’t the time to indulge. The tree panicked and tried to shake it off. Anything that’s anti-Christmas gets hurt by our Christmas juju just as much as we get healed by it.
We’ve got nothing against them, but Wild Pines think that we’re their mortal enemies. They blame us for the yearly massacre of their brethren in the name of our holiday. They’re not actually Naughty. If anything, their problem is that they think we’re the Naughty ones.
But now wasn’t a time to try and negotiate. Now was a time to chop us down a tree. I pulled out my wooden workshop mallet and charged. I got a solid hit in, and broke off a few branches. But the Wild Pine just spun around again, and sent me flying back onto my cinnamon buns. While I was on my behind, I heard a yell from what was usually our quietest teammate.
“Hey, you ugly sons of birches!” shouted Shade, “I’m gonna cut you down to size!”
Shade specializes in what she calls ‘defrosting.’ Most of her weaponry is made to do maximum damage to ice and snow creatures. But the ice axe she keeps on her belt as a backup weapon can do plenty of damage to wood too. She charged in, ducking under the tree’s wild spin, and chopped squarely into its trunk. It shrieked, a sound I don’t care to describe, and tried to knock her back.
But Shade is anything if not tenacious. She grabbed the incoming branch and cracked it in two. Then she yanked the axe out of the wood and hit it again. And again. The other Wild Pine tried to get around it, but Shade was too quick for it. She chopped a fourth time, and the tree toppled over, creaking in pain.
Then our next quietest team member shouted something that I never thought I’d hear her say. “Fire in the hole!”
Shade took the cue and jumped back out of range. I saw Doc Bubbly toss a soda can at the remaining tree. It trailed brown liquid through the air, then splashed on the ground in front of the Wild Pine, adding a cola smell to the already delicious hot buttered rum and fresh pine smells that were now permeating the room.
Then I saw Doc open up a packet of FizzChunks and throw them into the puddle leading to the tree. For someone who is supposed to do no harm, the Doc sure has a mean streak in her.
The FizzChunks and the soda started a chain reaction. A string of tiny explosions ran along the trail until it got to the tree. The tree that was soaked in hot buttered rum.
I’ve never heard a pine tree scream like that before. And as long as I live, I never want to hear it again. It wasn’t pretty.
“I love the smell of burning pine and hot buttered rum,” said Cambo as Longshot helped her back to her feet, “It smells like… Christmas.”
Stay tuned for tomorrow’s episode of Saving Christmas – Slay Bells.