Authors Note: Okay, so Santa is not exactly MINE, but, the elves I make up . . . . Aw, whatever. It's not like you could use them for anything . . . .

Prologue

Not so long ago, in a place way closer than you may think . . .

Bell tolls! Lights flicker on! Doors bang open! Tiny feet stampede down the hallways! All havoc is wrought!
A fish swims by.
All is the norm in the underwater workshop of none other than . . . . SANTA CLAUSE!
Nice, cozy, and sub zero under the Arctic Ocean lies the immense factory. It is almost entirely inhabited by elves. Not 'Tolkien' elves, just the short, chubby, and somewhat jolly stereotypical elves.
Forced to move underwater, what with global warming, and the ice caps melting, Santa rules with an iron fist, and a belly like a bowl full of jelly.
The elves are often forgotten, and given no credit. (Not to mention being overworked and underpaid.)
This is their story.