a/n: Alllll Right! Holiday spirit, guys! *does v-sign* Well, I need a
break from my other story, Fairies and Carrot Stew, so I'm doing this.
It's inspired by this weird freaky dream I had last night. . .REALLY weird
freaky dream. Hope you like!
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
Database: Ellespin Ranhart
Name: Ellespin Ranhart
Status: Elf---advanced
Place of Residence: North Pole, Seventh Tower, Room 253
Family: none
Age: 16 ½
Height: 5'
Weight: 95 lb.
Hair: blue-black
Eyes: Gold
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
Well, that's me. Ellespin Ranhart. But most people just call me Spin.
In case you hadn't realized yet, we all work for Santa Claus up there in his big. . .chair. God. You'd think the guy couldn't even lift a finger by himself.
So all year, from the day after Christmas one year to the day before Christmas the next, he sits there watching soaps and eating junk and drinking beer in his Big Chair. And on Christmas, he gets into his big red suit and black black boots and uses magic (OUR magic to be exact) to make his rather scraggly, gray-yellow beard full and white. Then he manages to put on a big ol' cheerful come-join-the-party smile.
He's really not much more than a figure head.
But I'll get back to that later.
Anyway, Santa decided---oh, a few centuries ago---that the elves would work even harder if he encouraged some sort of rivalry between them. So now, the West side of the Towers and the East side of the Towers (us) are engaged in full competition in EVERYTHING. I'm serious. Even with who can use the toilet the most in 1 hour. So just imagine what it's like during Christmas, when we're all making last-minute additions to the toys and fixing up the reindeers.
So, you want to know what makes Christmas possible? I'll tell you.
First of all, do you honestly think that a couple of reindeers tugging along about a million tones of toys plus a big fat dude can make it around the world in less than 12 hours? Nope. It's one of the unsolved mysteries of life.
What we actually do is stop time. Only humans and animals and daylight are stopped, though. Nature isn't to happy with us, of course, but hey, does she want to deliver the presents? Didn't think so. Of course, we do have to make sure that they're all sleeping first. Which is why we have a complete, extremely accurate computer Edition 2540 which shows us how many are asleep, and how many aren't.
Naturally, not everybody's going to go to sleep, so we have the Sleep Crew. They're often mistaken for the Sandman. Again, what are ancient flops of men doing, trying to keep the world running? (a/n: Help! Old men are going to RULE THE WORLD! RUUUUUUUUUUN!!!)
Second of all, as I've said before, Santa really isn't much more than a figurehead. What happens is that he picks an elf he PARTICULARLY dislikes, and puts him/her in the sleigh, responsible for getting all the presents delivered to the kids, and goes back to watching his soaps. Delivering all the presents around the world is not exactly the funnest thing. (a/n: Is that a word? I don't think it is. Whoops.)
It is practical in only ONE way: The poor reindeer are physically incapable of dragging the obese old man AND the presents at the same time. After all, magic only works on inanimate objects, not living people.
Unfortunately for me, a couple of weeks ago, I told Santa that maybe it would be better for both him and the other elves if he could get down here and help out a little, instead of being a couch potato and sitting on his ass all day.
I don't think he liked that.
So guess who's stuck doing Christmas Duty this year.
Yet another reason why I should learn to control what I say.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
a/n: *yawn* boring, boring, boring chapter. But I needed to give you guys some background information and stuff. *yawn* Well, it is like 5:00 am on Saturday!!
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
Database: Ellespin Ranhart
Name: Ellespin Ranhart
Status: Elf---advanced
Place of Residence: North Pole, Seventh Tower, Room 253
Family: none
Age: 16 ½
Height: 5'
Weight: 95 lb.
Hair: blue-black
Eyes: Gold
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
Well, that's me. Ellespin Ranhart. But most people just call me Spin.
In case you hadn't realized yet, we all work for Santa Claus up there in his big. . .chair. God. You'd think the guy couldn't even lift a finger by himself.
So all year, from the day after Christmas one year to the day before Christmas the next, he sits there watching soaps and eating junk and drinking beer in his Big Chair. And on Christmas, he gets into his big red suit and black black boots and uses magic (OUR magic to be exact) to make his rather scraggly, gray-yellow beard full and white. Then he manages to put on a big ol' cheerful come-join-the-party smile.
He's really not much more than a figure head.
But I'll get back to that later.
Anyway, Santa decided---oh, a few centuries ago---that the elves would work even harder if he encouraged some sort of rivalry between them. So now, the West side of the Towers and the East side of the Towers (us) are engaged in full competition in EVERYTHING. I'm serious. Even with who can use the toilet the most in 1 hour. So just imagine what it's like during Christmas, when we're all making last-minute additions to the toys and fixing up the reindeers.
So, you want to know what makes Christmas possible? I'll tell you.
First of all, do you honestly think that a couple of reindeers tugging along about a million tones of toys plus a big fat dude can make it around the world in less than 12 hours? Nope. It's one of the unsolved mysteries of life.
What we actually do is stop time. Only humans and animals and daylight are stopped, though. Nature isn't to happy with us, of course, but hey, does she want to deliver the presents? Didn't think so. Of course, we do have to make sure that they're all sleeping first. Which is why we have a complete, extremely accurate computer Edition 2540 which shows us how many are asleep, and how many aren't.
Naturally, not everybody's going to go to sleep, so we have the Sleep Crew. They're often mistaken for the Sandman. Again, what are ancient flops of men doing, trying to keep the world running? (a/n: Help! Old men are going to RULE THE WORLD! RUUUUUUUUUUN!!!)
Second of all, as I've said before, Santa really isn't much more than a figurehead. What happens is that he picks an elf he PARTICULARLY dislikes, and puts him/her in the sleigh, responsible for getting all the presents delivered to the kids, and goes back to watching his soaps. Delivering all the presents around the world is not exactly the funnest thing. (a/n: Is that a word? I don't think it is. Whoops.)
It is practical in only ONE way: The poor reindeer are physically incapable of dragging the obese old man AND the presents at the same time. After all, magic only works on inanimate objects, not living people.
Unfortunately for me, a couple of weeks ago, I told Santa that maybe it would be better for both him and the other elves if he could get down here and help out a little, instead of being a couch potato and sitting on his ass all day.
I don't think he liked that.
So guess who's stuck doing Christmas Duty this year.
Yet another reason why I should learn to control what I say.
~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.
a/n: *yawn* boring, boring, boring chapter. But I needed to give you guys some background information and stuff. *yawn* Well, it is like 5:00 am on Saturday!!