December is a heck of a time to be an Elf. You work your fingers to the bone making presents and toys,
and all you get is grief from the supervisor because little Jonny has changed his mind again and wants a Nintendo DS instead of a bike. Do you have any idea how fiddly those damn things are to assemble? She wished they really had all those cold, robotic, automated factories you see on the news. Nope, kids, it's all elf-assembly. Batteries not included.
But the real trouble comes with all the last-minute jobs from scribbled notes. Especially the ones from drunk adults who were sending a letter to Santa "for a larf". The mail department worked pretty hard, she was sure, but she often had to quibble with their interpretation of the different requests. There was the famous time when the mail department decided a jumbo jet meant a power washer for cleaning elepahnts rather than a small plastic toy aeroplane.
And she shuddered to think of all the problems they had with Nintendo Wii's!
But this latest one took the biscuit. She was fairly certain that the drunken yob who'd requested "somefing nice an elfy coz I want to lose weight and get more sex action" was thinking more along the lines of an exercise bike to lose weight than a chained-up Elf Maiden sex slave wrapped in fancy red wrapping paper on Christmas morning....
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