As the times change and items on Christmas wish lists become more technologically advanced, Santa’s little elves are coping with the nostalgia of the Holidays.
“Look out below! Another batch of letters incoming!” shouted Blippy from the workshop balcony. Blippy’s the head of communications for Santa’s elves. She can be easily spotted with the red pom-pom at the end of her pointed hat.
“Oh boy! More requests! I wonder where this batch is from?” said Alabaster, plugging in the arms of a porcelain doll.
“Another batch?! We have to work through the night at this point,” Twinky replied, as he was finishing up his 546th remote control car.
“I guess so, but I love making these toys! They’re a way of expressing.”
“Good for you. As for me, I’m sick of being cooped up in here for twelve hours straight. I just wanna go home for the night… have a week long vacation, y’know?”
“Oh don’t be such a downer, Twinky! C’mon, help me get a parcel of those letters. So excited to make some of ‘em! I hope someone wished for a Dollhouse, I love making those!”
They waddled to the letter-collection box, their jingle-belled boots jingling all the way. Elves all around ‘em were hammering, soldering, and gluing stuff together, working hard to grant the wishes of every kid in the world.
Twinky was part of the electronics department so he got the letters that wished for gaming consoles, laptops, and cellphones. Alabaster grabbed the doll parcel. He would be happy to know that 103 children wished for dollhouses.
Both of ‘em worked all night long. Ever since the turn of the century, kids have been asking for tablets and game consoles. The electronics department was getting busier and busier with each passing year. Twinky eventually finished everything. Making sure that he didn’t get caught in another batch, he said his goodbyes to Alabaster, who didn’t seem to notice as he was too busy making sure that every piece in the dollhouse was perfect.
The crunch of blank snow and the jingling of his boots were the only things disturbing the quiet night as Twinky trudged home to his snow burrow. They’re like underground igloos. Warm heat radiating from the tiny fireplace inside can be felt by Twinky even before entering. On his nightstand lay a box and a letter on it. The letter came from Alabaster. It read:
“Hey Twinky, I noticed you’ve been pretty cranky lately. I sent this box of your favorite cookies! It might help turn that frown upside down! Signed, Alabaster.”