by Michael Rupp

Created on: December 15, 2009

     Nathan the elf watched as the North Pole Sheriff’s paddy wagon screeched to a halt with red lights whirling and sirens screaming.  The sirens stopped, the lights went out.  The Sherriff stepped out of the van.

     “Hello, Nathan,” said the Sherriff.

     “Who are you after, Sherriff?”

      “Relax, Nathan,” said the Sherriff.  “This is a drop off, not a pick up.   Santa’s running late loading the sleigh.  The judge sprang Fingers from jail to help you out.”

    “Fingers, the elf burglar?   Loading all those presents into the sleigh?  Does Santa know about this?”

     “It was Santa’s idea.  Seems that Santa and Fingers go way back.  The word is Santa’s gunning for Fingers.  One false move and Santa’s going to send him to Siberia, or worse.”

     The Sherriff unlocked the back of the wagon, and let Fingers out.  Nathan wasted no time putting him to work loading wrapped presents into the big bag in the back of the sleigh.

      “How did I ever end up here at Christmas time,” said Fingers with a sigh.   

     “How did you end up here?” said Nathan.  “Fingers, the question you should be asking is why they ever let you out of jail in the first place. You steal everything you can get your hands on.  Most Elves like you spend Christmas behind bars.  Just keep putting the presents in the sleigh. Santa will be here soon.”

     “OK, OK, … but why did they send me to the fat joker in the red suit?  I would have been happier getting sentenced to work as a toy store elf.”

     “You?  A toy store elf?  Cut me a break.  Santa detail is the last stop on the railway for you, buddy.  Blow this gig, and you won’t even be able to get a job baking cookies”

     Fingers turned his head.  “Did you hear that?” he said.  “I just heard ‘Ho Ho Ho.’ He’s coming,” said Fingers.  Then Fingers reached into the deep side pocket of his elf tunic and pulled out a box wrapped in bright red and green.

    

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