RKMBs Forums .::Important::. Writer's Block The Holiday Heroes

or

I would have preferred chocolate,
but all I got was this lousy superhero Christmas story...

or

Who is this Christmas Eve? And can I get her number?



'Twas two days before Christmas
the elves made the toys
throughout Santa's shop,
for the good girls and boys.

Others were packing
more toys on the sleigh,
getting everything ready
for that big special day...

Except Hollie.

She was doing a special errand for Kandy Kane (Santa's P.A.). It was her job to deliver an urgent memo to Santa.

"Have you seen the Big S?" Hollie asked a group of elderly elves packing My Little Talking/Walking/Pooping Barbie Q Dolls (TM) into Santa's sack.

"The Big S?" cried the bunch of elderly elves.

"S-A-N-T-A," Hollie spelled.

"That's the problem with the youth of today," bemoaned one of the elves, "no respect."

"It's amazing half these kids get anything at all for Christmas," agreed another.

Having heard this guff all before, Hollie crossed her arms and waited for the tirade of moaning to finish:

The kids of yesteryear used to be happy with just hoops and bits of string, but the brats of today want the latest whiz-bang entertainment and telecommunications devices, the most expensive brand name toys and clothes, blah, blah, blah...

Hollie’s foot tapped irritably.

...The children used to be so respectful, saying please and thank you. The punks of today backchat at the supermarkets and try to pull on the Santa's Helper's beard to see if it's real.

The old elves sighed.

Finally, a break! "So have you seen him?"

"Who?"

Hollie counted to 10. "S-A-N-T-A."

"No."

"Gee, thanks..."

"You're welcome, young lady," replied one of the elderly elves, clearly impressed by the unusual display of manners from the younger generation.

"...for nothing!" finished Hollie as she left the flabbergasted elves behind her.

Hollie’s frown turned upside down as she approached her young friend busily licking a patch of snow. "Hey, Rudy!"

"Hey, Hollie!" greeted Rudolph (the red-nosed reindeer). "How's it hanging'?"

"By the fireplace." Hollie gave Rudolph a wink with her stock-standard reply.

"Wassup?" Rudolph asked his young elvin friend after they finally finished laughing inanely at their own in-joke.

"Seen the Big S?"

"Um.... don't think so," replied the red-nosed reindeer with a shrug. "And you know Santa hates being called that."

Hollie ignored him. "Darn it! Kane wants me to deliver this memo to him..."

"Must be important," said Rudolph. "Have your tried Mrs. C?"

"Next stop! Wanna hang?"

"Cool."

So Rudolph joined Hollie in her search for the Big... um... Santa, and soon they reached the house of Claus.

"Sorry, dears, I haven't seen Kris all day," said Mrs. Claus. "I suspect he and the deer are doing their pre-Christmas warm-ups. We wouldn't want any accidents like 1958, when Blitzen pulled a hammy."

"Why didn't we think of that?" Hollie berated herself.

"Why wasn't I asked to warm up too?" asked Rudolph, clearly hurt.

"I suspect it's not going to be a foggy Christmas Eve," suggested Mrs. Claus.

"I bet it's that Dasher," grumbled Rudolph. "He’s had it in for me ever since I guided the sleigh that night."

"Come on, Rudy, let’s go and get this memo to the Big--" Hollie sheepishly looked at Mrs. Claus. "Um... Santa."


******


"What do ya mean you haven't seen Santa? You're obviously doing the pre-Christmas warm-ups!" Rudolph demanded, clearly still hurt.

"Sorry, kiddo," Comet apologized. "We waited, but Dasher suggested we start without Santa."

"And why wasn't I invited?" Rudolph's nose glowed and angry, bright red.

"Jeez, kid, turn it down!" cried the older reindeer, covering her eyes with her hooves. "We thought you had been."

Rudolph started trotting towards Dasher, mumbling something about the spirit of giving.

"Wait!" shouted Hollie. "We don't have time for this. I've still got to give this memo to Santa."

Rudolph pointed out that no one had seen him.

"Let's go back to Kandy. Maybe she knows where Santa is."

However...

"What do you mean you haven't seen Santa!?!" roared Kandy Kane, a tall blonde elf (very much like Cate Blanchett).

"Where'd that wind and lightning come from?" asked Rudolph looking around.

Kandy's features turned from angelic to demonic. Her voice changed from melodic to deep and booming. "Can't I trust you with a simple task, Hollie? That memo's urgent. It's the report from the North Pole Weather Station. They're predicting extremely heavy fog and I'm asking Santa to include Rudolph in the pre-Christmas warm-ups."

"I new it!" cursed Rudolph.

"Rudolph? There you are." Kandy instantly transformed back into her beautiful serine self. She smiled sweetly at the reindeer, brushing back stray hair behind her pointy ears. "But why are you here? Why aren't you at the pre-Christmas warm-ups?"

"Because, I just found out about them."

"Well, run along and join Santa and the rest of the reindeer. We don't want any accidents like 1958..."

"When Blitzen pulled a hammy," intoned Hollie and Rudolph, like a well-rehearsed chorus.

"But that's just it." continued Hollie, obviously exasperated. "Nobody's seen Santa."

"What do you mean, nobody's seen Santa?"

"Nobody's seen Santa."

"Nobody's seen Santa?"

"No. They have not."

"Not the elderly elves in the sleigh loading dock?"

"Nope."

"Not the deer?"

"Nope."

"Not Mrs. Claus?"

"Nope."

"Not even...?"

"Nope."

"Then where is he?" asked a panic-stricken Kandy Kane.

"I was hoping you could tell me," replied Hollie.

"This is terrible. We're only one day out from the biggest night of the year, and Santa's gone missing!"

"I'm sure he's around somewhere," suggested Rudolph.

"We can't let the rest of the staff know about this," stressed Kandy, grabbing the elf and the reindeer by the shoulders.

"Why not?"

"Standard Human Resource procedure," replied Kandy. "You two, go back to Mrs. Claus. See if he’s turned back up at the house." She lifted Santa’s weighty diary and opened it to the page marked 23rd December.

"What are you doing?” Rudolph asked.

"I'm checking Santa's movements to-- Wha!?!" The diary dropped from Kandy’s trembling hands to the floor.

Hollie gulped as she watched the fear etch across Kandy’s face. "What's wrong?"

"T-t-there's no entry..."

"What do you mean there's no entry?"

"She means there is nothing written in the diary." Rudolph stared at the open diary on the floor. "It's a blank page."

"B-b-but that can't be. This time of year his diary is full of appointments. I write them in myself," cried Kandy.

Rudolph gave a gasp. "It's worse."

"How can it be worse?" Kandy and Hollie asked in unison.

The little deer looked up from the book worriedly, "There's no entry for December 25 either. In fact according to this diary, it's not even Christmas!"

Chapter 2


Hollie, Rudolph, and Kandy raced back to Santa’s home. Mrs. Claus was out front, sweeping some snow.

“Hello, dears,” beamed Mrs. Claus. Then she noticed their exhaustion. “What’s all this fuss, then?”

Hollie, puffing and panting, finally managed to get the words out. “Have you seen Santa?”

“Santa, who?” replied Mrs. Claus, smiling down on the trio like children who had lost a few marbles.

“You know, Santa Claus. Kris Kringle. Father Christmas. Your husband!” Hollie exclaimed.

“Kris Kringle? My husband!?!” chuckled Mrs. Claus. “I don’t think so, though I did know a Kris Kringle once. Such a nice young man; had the most gorgeous ginger hair. But that was many years ago now. Haven’t thought about Kris in years. I wonder what he’s doing now?”

Mrs. Claus wandered off, reminiscing, leaving two elves and a reindeer dumbfounded.

“Something’s wrong here,” concluded Hollie.

“You think!?!” cried Kandy Kane.

Hollie went on regardless. “First Santa’s diary entries disappear, then his own wife has no memory of him even though we were talking to her about him a few minutes ago."

“About who?” asked Kandy.

“Santa,” replied Hollie.

“Santa, who?” asked Kandy.

“Oh no,” cried Rudolph. “Kandy too!”

“Quick, Rudy!” Hollie dashed off. “We have to get to the other reindeer!”

Rudolph ran after her. “Why? What can they do?”

“I don’t know, but at least we can do a real search for the Big S.”


******


“Santa, who?” asked Dasher and Dancer, Prancer and Vixen.

“Never heard of him,” said Comet and Cupid, Donder and Blitzen.

“Just follow us to the sleigh loading dock, will you,” ordered Hollie.

“I don’t think we’re going to find Santa, Hol,” said Rudolph, trying to keep up.

“I know, but we have to do something.”

Hollie strapped together the nine reindeer, even though the other eight were a bit miffed about being ordered around by a junior elf and a young reindeer.

Hollie climbed into the seat of the sleigh and picked up the reins.

“Oy!” cried an elderly elf. “Git off that sleigh!”

Another elderly elf joined the first in telling the youngsters off. “It’s got all the Frostmas presents on it!”

“Frostmas!?!” cried Hollie and Rudolph. “What’s Frostmas!?!”

Suddenly, the sleigh loading dock and all the elderly elves start to fade away as if they had never existed.

“Aggghh!” yelled Rudolph. “The sleigh loading dock and the elderly elves are fading away as if they never existed!”

“Not only that. Look! Santa’s workshop’s disappearing too!”

“But why aren’t we disappearing?” asked Dancer.

“That would be because of me.”

“Father Time!” nine reindeer and a junior elf gasped.

Indeed it was Father Time. The old man, dressed in dark robes was bald on top, with a long white moustache and beard hanging down to his knees. In one hand he held a scythe. In the other, he held an hourglass.

“It’s fortunate I got here in time,” he cackled at his own joke. This resulted in a coughing fit.

“Please excuse me. Not as young as I once was. Well, for the moment anyway.”

“Um, yes,” interrupted Hollie. “Anyhoo, not that’s it’s not good to see you, Daddy Time, but what are you doing here?”

“Firstly. Please don’t call me ‘Daddy Time.’ Secondly, my knees get terrible arthritis when the time stream gets messed around with. I can’t describe the excruciating pain I felt when I woke up this evening.”

“Don’t you mean morning?”

“No. I mean evening. Time is relative.”

“Is it?”

“My Great Uncle’s second cousin twice removed, I think.”

“Uh, who is?” asked a very confused Hollie.

“Doesn’t matter. All that does is that someone very naughty has been playing around with the time stream. And I would say, if my observations are correct--”

“That Santa’s been taken out of time?” queried Hollie and Rudolph together.

“Oh,” said a crestfallen Father Time, “you noticed.”

“Of course we noticed!” cried Hollie. “First we couldn’t find the Big S. Then his diary started erasing itself. Then everyone, except Rudy and I, forgot about him, and then the whole workshop just disappeared!”

“Yeah, we did have a few clues,” supported Rudolph.

“Who's Santa?” asked Dasher again.

“Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear,” said Father Time. “This is a tad worse than I was expecting.”

“Whatever changed the past, has progressed into our present far sooner than I anticipated.”

“Huh?”

“Meaning that whomever did go back into the past, went back some time ago, not giving us a lot of time to rectify the past, to fix our present to ensure all the children get their presents.”

“My brain hurts,” moaned Rudolph.

“So do ours,” moaned all the other reindeer.

“But how come we’re still here?” asked Hollie.

“I told you that was my doing. I was able to put a protective chronal bubble around all of us. It protects us from the effects of the time damage.”

“Oh, I see,” said Hollie, not understanding a word that Father Time said. “But why do Rudolph and I remember Santa?”

“You two are only young and haven’t known Father Christmas as long as the other reindeer or Mrs. Claus.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” complained Hollie.

“It’s not supposed to. You’re dealing with time here.” Suddenly Father Time becomes somewhat introspective. “But is this just localized to Santa Claus and Christmas? Quite a bit of damage has been done to the time stream already.” Just as suddenly, Father Time snaps out of his introspection and addresses the others once more. “I think we are going to need some help.”

“What for?” asked Hollie.

“To save Christmas!”

“How?”

“First, we must find others to help us gather information about the current state of the present. Once we know precisely what changes we’re dealing with here, we can go to the future to find out who is behind all this and how they managed to go back in time. Then all we have to do is pop back into the past to stop them.”

“Why don’t we stop them in the future?” asked Hollie.

“Oh my young, innocent elf, you clearly haven’t had much experience with time travel, have you?”

“Well, no, but what’s that got to do with it?”

“We can’t stop whoever it is in the future.”

“Why not?”

“It hasn’t happened yet.”

“Gah!?!”

“Our brains still hurt,” the nine reindeer moaned again.

But Hollie and the reindeer didn’t have time to moan or contemplate their brains, as Father Time suddenly swung and swirled his hourglass around and around, above their heads.

“Hold on, everybody,” Father Time shouted above the swirling time winds. “Here we goooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo…”

Chapter 3


With Hollie, the junior Christmas elf, by his side, Father Time navigated Santa’s sleigh through the time stream. Eight other reindeer plowed through the winds while Rudolph, his nose so bright, guided the sleigh through the vortex.

"Where are we going?" shouted Hollie above the howling time winds.

"Pardon?" Father Time asked.

Hollie shouted even louder, "WHERE ARE WE..."

Suddenly, the nine reindeer, sleigh, giant sack of Christmas toys, junior elf and Father Time materialized out of the time stream and into a tranquil field.

"... GOING?!"

"All right. No need to shout, you know. We're here." Father Time climbed creakily out of the sleigh.

"But where is here?" asked Hollie, joining the old man, "It's a bit warm."

"I suppose it would be a little tepid for a young elf so used to the North Pole climes. We have arrived at Easter, next year to be precise."

"But where?"

He pointed his scythe in the general direction of a little cottage surrounded by a white picket fence. Next to the cottage Hollie saw a small vegetable garden. She read the sign hanging from the letterbox. "P. Cottontail, Esq..."

She thought for a moment. "The Easter Bunny?"

"That's correct," beamed Father Time approvingly as he entered the gate and walked to the front door. "I wish to ensure young Peter is safe and well. We will be in for the warmest of welcomes. Peter's hot-cross buns are to die for, and he makes a mean pot of tea to boot." Father Time gave Hollie a little wink before tapping on the front door with his scythe.

Rat-a-tat-tat

The door opened slightly and a rabbit, wearing trousers, jacket, and a waistcoat popped his head out from the slit. "Hello?"

"Mr. Peter Cottontail, Esq.," beamed Father Time, throwing his arms wide. Hollie ducked just in time to avoid having her head cut of by his scythe.

"Oh no," Peter Cottontail's face fell, "Kronos!"

Well, this was a shocking development. "But why aren't you happy to see him?" Hollie asked.

"Are you kidding me?" replied the rabbit, shaking his head sadly. "Whenever Kronos shows up, something bad is bound to happen... or already did."

"Oh dear," sighed Father Time. "The time damage has already affected poor Peter."

"So what do you want? And what's with the sleigh and deer?" asked Peter, pointing to the reindeer and Santa's sleigh. "Doesn't seem your style."

"That, young Rabbit, is precisely why we are here," answered Father Time.

"Santa's disappeared," pipped in Hollie.

"Santa who?" replied the perplexed Rabbit.

"Look, Santa's been erased from time. We only have one more night before Christmas Eve --"

"What are you talking about, elf?" interrupted Peter. "And who’s this Christmas Eve? Never heard of her."

"I'm afraid, Peter," Father Time began, "Hollie here comes from 23rd December last year. A few days before what used to be Christmas.”

"Yeah," cried Rudolph, still tethered to the sleigh with the rest of the deer, "replaced by something called Frostmas."

"Oooh," cooed the rabbit, "I love Frostmas."

"Apparently," said Father Time worriedly. "How are the preparations for Easter going?"

"Easter?" replied Peter. "What's Easter?"

"This is getting rather repetitive," Hollie sighed.

"One of the dangers of time travel, I'm afraid."

Something new baffled Hollie. "But if Easter doesn't exist, why hasn't Hoppy here, been erased too?"

"Good question. Probably hasn't happened yet."

"What hasn't happened?"

Suddenly a temporal wave washed over the group. Father Time swirled his hourglass, creating a chronal barrier to shield them from the wave’s effects just in the nick of time.

"That," said Father Time rather sheepishly.

Peter stood up, dusted himself down, and looked around. "My house! My garden! My fence! My mailbox!"

Indeed Peter Cottontail's house, garden and white-picket fence had all disappeared.

"What happened?" howled a distraught Peter.

"It looks like somebody just tried to erase you from time too, Peter."


******


Santa's sleigh materialized atop a high-rise apartment block and once more his knees cracked audibly as Father Time climbed out gets out of Santa's sleigh.

Crrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrackkkkkkkkkkkk!

The others winced. "Ewwwww."

"Ah, that's better,” sighed the old man, slowly getting back to his feet, a contented smile playing over his lips.

"So much for the element of surprise," snapped Peter as he hopped out of the sleigh. "I want first dibs on whoever tried to delete me."

"Not quite yet, Mr. Cottontail," cautioned Father Time.

"Then where are we?" asked Hollie.

"14th February. New York City, I believe."

"Valentine's Day?" queried Peter with a raised eyebrow.

"You remember Valentine’s Day but not your own holiday?" snapped Hollie.

"Now, now, no time for bickering," reasoned Father Time. “We must find Cupid quickly."

"Hey, you going to let us out of this, Hol?" Rudolph indicated the harness.

"Sorry Rudy," apologized Hollie. "We might need a quick getaway. It's better if you stay here with the others."

"Grrrrrrrr," grrrred Rudolph.

"So where do we find Cupid?" asked Peter, looking out over the city.

"No idea," confessed Father Time. "I specialise in time, not space."

Father Time, Peter, and Hollie checked out all the romantic spots in New York in their quest to find Cupid--restaurants, nightclubs, the top of the Empire State Building, Central Park. Their search was fraught with danger, you see, as many courting couples mistakenly assumed the trio was a bunch of weirdo perverts spying on their private and romantic moments.

Hours later...

"This is ridiculous," complained Peter, "We're never going to find him."

"We've searched everywhere," agreed Hollie, rubbing her sore feet.

"Except this building," pointed out Father Time, indicating the building on which they had originally landed.

"How do you know he's even in New York?" asked Peter.

"I'll be getting a postcard from him next Tuesday."

"Of course…"

CRASH!!!!!!!

The door bursts in on suite 3569.

"Freeze!" ordered Peter Cottontail.

"Jeez!" yelped Cupid.

"Eeeek!!!!!" screamed the three charming, witty, and intelligent ladies who just happened to be spending the evening with Cupid... discussing world politics and other important social evnets. Yes that was it...

"Eek!" blushed Hollie, hiding her eyes from the cherub's near-naked form.

Cupid launched into the air, the two small feathery wings on his back beating furiously as he reached for his bow and quiver. "Don't worry about your modesty, toots,” Cupid winked as he nocked an arrow. "I've got a magical sash that protects mine."

Cupid drew back his bow.

"Wait!" Father Time yelled.

"I told you to freeze!" Peter launched into the air towards Cupid.

"Sorry, Bub… whoever you are. I think I've got a lot more experience hitting things than you," explained Cupid as he released the arrow.

Twang.

"Oowww! I'm hit!"

"Oh no!" Hollie gasped.

"I wouldn't worry about it too much, young lady," said Father Time. "Cupid's arrows aren't deadly. In fact, if I'm not mistaken, that shot should improve Peter's surly disposition quite nicely."

Indeed, after a brief spell, Peter awoke feeling a lot less angry. A lot like his old original self, actually. "Hello, everybody. My name is Peter Cottontail. Would you like a cup of tea?"

"I think I preferred 'im before I shot 'im," complained Cupid, as he produced a big cigar and proceeded to light it with a match. "Who is he anyways?"

"Peter Cottontail, the Easter Bunny," answered Hollie.

“Easter Bunny, huh? Never heard of ‘im.”

“This is part of the reason why we are here. Somebody has tried to erase the Easter Bunny from history,” Father Time explained. “Santa Claus appears to have been their first victim…”

“Santa who?” queried the cherub.

Hollie sighed. “Not this again.”

“You have no memory of Peter or Santa because time is realigning itself into a new reality. But these two fine beings represented two very special occasions in the calendar.”

“So who’s the chick?”

“I’m Hollie,” she replied rather indignantly.

“Which holiday are you?”

“I’m not a holiday. I’m one of Santa’s helpers.”

“Santa’s little helper? Ha ha ha!”

“Who you calling little, short stuff?”

Ignoring Hollie, Cupid addresses Father Time, “So someone’s put a hit on us holiday icons, huh?”

“It would appear so, at least on the surface. We were able to save Peter himself from being deleted, but not the memory of him.”

Cupid picked up his quiver and slung it over his shoulder, “In that case, Kronos, I’m your cherub.”

“Excellent,” exclaimed Father Time. “We should leave immediately.”

“Oh.” Peter’s voice came from the kitchen. “That’s a pity. I’ve just made a tea cake.”

Father Time’s eyes lit up, “Ooooh.”

“Ya kiddin’ me, right?” Cupid groaned.

Hollie grabbed Peter and Father Time. “We’ll eat it on the way.”

CHAPTER 4


This night was the darkest that Hollie had ever seen. Even Rudolph's nose was having trouble penetrating the inky darkness. The young elf could just make out the bare trees on either side of the road.

The Christmas elf shivered. Somehow this place felt colder than the North Pole. "Are you sure we're in the right place?"

Father Time peered of into the distance, his brow furrowed, "Oh, very sure." He gave the others a reassuring smile, that didn't reassure, "We're definitely in Ireland..."

A wolf howled.

An owl hooted.

Peter grabbed hold of Cupid's arm.

"Git off me ya rascally rabbit. How am I supposed to protect us, with you hanging off my arm?"

Peter let go, "Sorry." He pulled his jacket tight around his shoulders, "I-i-it's so cold here."

"You think you've got problems, bub? I've only got this magic sash." The cherub indicated the sash hovering over his private parts.

"A-a-are you sure, we're going to find help here, Kronos?" enquired Peter.

Hollie looked around nervously "And do we really want to meet them?"

Suddenly a piercing shriek pierced the night.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

"Agggggggghhhhhhh!" cried the reindeer.

And the rabbit.

And the junior elf.

And the cherub.

Cupid was trying to aim his bow in all directions, but couldn't pinpoint the source of the noise. "It's coming from all around us."

Suddenly there was a dazzlingly bright flash of orange light...

FLASH

Followed by a large explosion.

KRA-BOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!

"Eeeeeeeeeek!" The nine reindeer dived into Santa's sleigh.

A hideous booming laughter filled the air.

BWA-HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Hollie, Peter and the Reindeer all popped their heads up. Just enough to see over the edge of the sleigh.

Cupid aimed his bow at the source of the laughter, ready to shoot into the darkness.

But Father Time, placed a restraining hand on the cherub, "Don't shoot, Cupid. I think we've just found who we are looking for."

"Father Time, ye ol' beggar," called a hauntingly demonic Irish voice, "What brings ye to these parts? And on All-Saint's Eve?"

A man wearing a pumpkin on his head walked out into the clearing. Light glowed from his eyes and mouth. He wore scuffed brown boots, dark tatty pants and a matching jacket, with a scarf wrapped around his neck. Hollie noticed that he was carrying a turnip, which also emitted a light.

"Jack O'Lantern, it's good to see you again."

"Of course, it's Halloween! But why would a damned soul want to help save Christmas?"

"Now, now Hollie, watch your language. Remember Jack maybe in danger too. Besides, he may have a bit of a bad reputation, but you know how these things can get blown out of proportion."

Peter popped up, smoothing down his rumpled suit, "After tonight, I'd say it's a well deserved reputation."

"Ah, don't be worrying ye cute button nose, little rabbit. Ol' Jack's just interested in a little fun, that's all."

"You're gonna be talking in the third-person all the time, ain't ya?"

"That, me fine cherub Jack'll be."

Father Time then explained to Jack about the potential danger to holiday icons, their mission to save Santa and restore the correct timelines.

"Well, if ye be needed any assistance, Jack O'Lantern is willing to offer his services."

"Excellent."

"But before we go off, we should discuss ol' Jack's fee..."

"Fee!?!"

Father time motioned everyone to calm down, "Well he's not known as 'Stingy Jack' for nothing I suppose."


******


"Now Dasher, now Dancer, now Prancer and Vixen! On Comet, on Cupid, on Donder and Blitzen!" The elf sat back, "I could get used to this."

Hollie cracked the whip, "You get a move on too, Rudy!"

"Santa hardly ever got the whip out," grumbled the red-nosed (and red-bottomed) reindeer.

Santa's sleigh, with all its passengers, was once more traversing through the time stream.

"So where to next?"

"19th September, please Hollie. Anywhere around the Caribbean will be fine."

The others thought for a moment. "19th September? What day's that?"

"Talk like a pirate day."

Hollie cracked the whip once more, stearing the reindeer towards 19th September, when suddenly...

"Ow!"

Everyone quickly turned to Father Time, concerned about his welfare.

"What is it?"

"My knees. I just got the most terrible pain..."

"Is that all," sighed Cupid, putting the arrow back in his quiver.

Hollie thought for a moment. "But, don't you get that when...?"

"Aggggghhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!"

A wave of temporal distortion picked up the reindeer, the sleigh, and its occupants, swirled and buffeted them around, before dumping them outside of the vortex.

Father Time, was the first to recover, "Sorry about that. That wave hit a tad sooner than I expected. Is everybody alright?"

"Oooh, my tail," moaned Peter, wiggling his cottontail to make sure it wasn't broken.

"Where are we?" asked Cupid.

"If ol' Jack's not mistak'n, it's beginning to look a lot like Frostmas."

"Frostmas?" cooed Peter, "I love Frostmas!"

Everyone looked up to see that they had crashed in front of a giant multi-level shopping centre complex. The whole complex was decked out in white decorations. White tinsel. White baubles. White flashing lights.

Cupid read the name of the shopping complex, "Frosty's..."

Up and down the street, buildings and cars and streetlights were decked out in the same snow-white decorations.

Father Time looked worried. "Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. This is no good at all."

The Christmas elf agreed, "Yeah, it's kinda boring, isn't it."

"Not that. We are all in the most grave danger."

Peter started to look worried too, "What do you mean?"

"That temporal wave, dumped us right in the middle of the new alternate reality. We mustn't stay too long, or we may never get out!"

"Then what are we hanging around for? Fire up the reindeer Hollie," urged Cupid.

Hollie was already way ahead of the cherub, reins in hand, when suddenly, "I know that face!"

Hollie let out a cry and jumped down from the sleigh, racing across the road towards the entrance to Frosty's.

"No Hollie, come back!" cried Father Time. But it was too late.

"Don't worry, I'll get her," Cupid flew after the elf.

"Wait for us!" Peter hopped out of the sleigh, closely followed by Jack.

"Oh dear," Father Time turned to the reindeer, "Be ready to meet us by the store entrance. Once we've recovered Hollie, we must leave at once!"

With that, Father Time ran... well hobbled... off to Frosty's.


******


Hollie barged her way through the crowd of Frostmas shoppers.

The shoppers complained about how rude the youth of today were, how they had no manners, and wore inappropriate and gaudy-coloured clothing.

"I guess the more things change, the more they stay the same," lamented Hollie.

Finally the Christmas elf, caught up with her quarry. She reached out and turned the large man around to face her.

The man looked old. He had white hair and beard. But his blue eyes looked young, as they twinkled. Then again it could have been because of the white flashing Frostmas lights.

Hollie hugged the man, "Santa!"

"Who?", asked the shocked large old man with white hair and beard, "My name is Kris Kringle."

This is extremely entertaining. Please do finish it.

You should think about cleaning this up a little and submitting it to a kids book publisher.

Chapter 5

Kris Kringle looked embarrassingly at the crowd that had gathered around him. Some days it was not worth getting out of bed. Kris just wanted a quiet life. He hated the Frostmas Season at the best of times. Sure it was good for business, but he hated the mass of people in the stores making it impossible to get from one place to another without being buffeted around, Frostmas puddings made his fillings ache, and he especially hated those Frostmas jingles… How was anyone supposed to concentrate with those annoying jingles blaring out from the store speakers…? And now this young girl... dressed in bright gaudy colours, who had wrapped herself around him, making a big fuss and carrying on about somebody called ‘Santa Claws’ (whom sounded rather nasty) and someone called ‘Christmas Eve’.

“I’m sorry Miss, but I have no idea what you’re talking about. I haven’t heard of any of those people,” Kris pushed Hollie away from him.

“B-bu-but, you’re Santa! Children all over the world are depending on you…”

“I’ve told you, my name is Kris Kringle. I’m the accountant here at Frosty’s. I don’t know Santa. I don’t know Christmas Eve. I don’t know you. And I have no intention of helping any children. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m a very busy man.”

But, before the accountant could walk away…

“Hollie!”

Cupid, Peter and Jack burst through the crowd. Which immediately went into a panic.

“Aggghhhhh, he’s got a bow!” cried one customer about Cupid.

One mother covered her child’s eyes, “And he’s nearly naked!”

An old lady fainted at the sight of Jack.

“Look out,” warned another customer, “There’s a rabbit too!”

The biggest collective scream went up when they saw old Father Time walking toward them with his scythe.

“Somebody call security!”

“Hey toots, whatya doing?” asked Cupid, as the crowd dispersed, “We gotta get out of here.”

“I’ve seen him.”

“Who?” asked Peter.

“Santa Claus.”

Jack looked around, “O’Really? Where?”

“There,” Hollie pointed to where Santa had been standing, “Darn, he’s gone!”

Before the others could point out that they had noticed…

“Freeze!”

A dozen Frosty’s Security Guards burst through the crowd and made their way towards the band of holiday icons.

The guards all wore white uniforms with big white coats. The three coal-black buttons on the front matched their boots, and the top hats that sat upon their heads. Some carried staffs, with stiff broom-heads on one end. Others carried orange truncheons.

“Oh dear,” sighed Father Time.

“I-I-I’m sure we can discuss this rationally,” suggested Peter.

“We ain’t got time to discuss this,” Cupid nocked an arrow, and drew back his arm as he aimed at the nearest guard, “rationally or otherwise.”

Twang

Eight of the guards scattered out of the way. The rest hit the deck. Everyone watched as the arrow went sailing into the crowd, hitting a man in the back.

“Ow!” The man fell down, taking the lady in front of him down too.

“Oops.”

“I thought you had practice hitting people with those things?” snapped Peter.

“Hey, I’m used to a bit more stealth... And targets who don’t run at me with big sticks.”

The man who was hit helped the woman off the ground and gazed into her eyes, “Has anyone told you, you have the most ravishing eyes?”

The woman blushed.

The woman’s husband punched the man.

The guards started getting back up to their feet and advanced upon the group.

“Jack’ll show ye how it’s done!” declared the damned soul, as he lifted his turnip lantern and charged at the guards. The lantern flared brightly as Jack released a hideous wail.

OOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOO!!!!!

Two of the guards turned and ran in fear. Several more staggered around dazed by the unholy light.

Unfortunately so did Hollie and Peter.

“Nice going, Pumpkin Head! Give us a little warning next time,” scolded Cupid, blinking a few spots from his eyes, “But I gotta admit your little stunt worked. You got most of ‘em,” he fired another arrow at an unaffected guard.

This time it hit the target.

The guard fell to his knees, lifted his hands to the sky and began to wail, “Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!!??!!”

Hollie listened on appalled, “That wasn’t a love arrow?”

Cupid indicated his quiver, “Not all these babies are love arrows, toots. That was an anguish arrow… Get down!”

Hollie dropped to the ground as another of cupid’s arrows went whizzing past, striking the guard that had just been about to grab the Christmas elf.

Meanwhile, Jack and Father Time were taking advantage of the guards in a bedazzled state, tripping them up or knocking them down.

Peter was blindly wandering around the melee, arms out-stretched, blinking madly trying to regain his vision, “Hey, I think I’m beginning to get my sight back.”

Peter partially focused upon the blurry image of a charging guard heading towards him, “Oh dear!” Peter leapt out of the way, just as the orange truncheon struck the floor. “Is that a carrot by any chance?” asked Peter as he ducked out of the way of another swing by the guard, “It’s just I’m quite partial to carrots.”

It was third time lucky for the guard, as he stuck Peter, sending the rabbit sprawling. The guard advanced menacingly, tapping his truncheon into his other hand…

WHACK!!!

The guard went cross-eyed and collapsed face-first into the floor.

Peter squinted, trying to make out what happened, “Hollie?”

“Come on,” said Hollie, helping the rabbit to his paws and tucking the Residential White Pages, she had used to clobber the guard with, under her arm, “Let’s get out of here!”

Father Time struck the last of the guards, with the flat of his scythe, “I believe that’s the last of them,” before tripping the guard up with the handle.

“Not quite,” pointed Cupid, “Here come reinforcements! Jack, Kronos, get the other’s out of here, I’ll hold 'em off.”

Father Time and Jack assisted the semi-dazed Peter and Hollie towards the exit of Frosty’s supermarket, as Cupid flew backwards, firing more arrows at the advancing guards.
Outside, the others raced towards the waiting sleigh and reindeer.

Hollie hollered at the reindeer, “Get us out of here!”

“There’s no need to shout you know,” admonished Dasher.

“And a please wouldn’t hurt you know,” complained Dancer.

The band of holiday icons piled into the sleigh.

“Just get us out of here!”

The reindeer started to pull the sleigh, building up speed, slowly lifting off the ground.

“Hey! Wait up!”

“Cupid!” cried Peter, watching the little cherub’s wings beat furiously, trying to keep up with the sleigh. The Frosty’s guards hot on his trail. Peter reached out his paw, “Grab hold!”

Hollie concentrated on the driving. The others looked on helpless, as Cupid reached out towards them… The guards quickly closing in behind him.

“Just a bit closer,” called Peter, stretching out the back of the sleigh as far as he could…

Finally the cherub’s fingers grasped hold of the rabbit’s paw.

One of the guards leapt at the cherub’s feet.

Jack grabbed hold of Peter and yanked his team-mates into the sleigh.

The guard crashed to the ground.

“Right Hollie,” cried Father Time. “Get us out of here!”

And with that, the sleigh flew-off into the night…


******


Kris Kringle’s hands shook as he tried to get the key into the lock of his apartment. He finally managed to let himself in, quickly closing the door behind him. He leaned up against the back of the door for what seemed an eternity, trying to regain his breath and his composure. It didn’t work.

He unsteadily staggered across his one-room apartment, in the dark, over to his fridge. He leaned against the appliance, as he opened the door, wincing at the light. Looking inside all he could find was cookie dough and milk. He pulled out a bottle of milk. He ripped off the silver top and went to take a swig from the bottle.

He stopped himself just as the bottle reached his lips. He put the top back on the bottle and put it back in the fridge. He needed something stronger.

He stumbled over to his desk and opened the bottom draw. He started rummaging through it. He knew it was in there, somewhere… "Ah, found it!" He unscrewed the top off the crème sherry bottle, “Medicinal purposes…” he explained to nobody in particular, before taking a large swig.

Maybe he had been working too hard? Too many Frostmas Jinglers keeping him awake at night, singing those blasted jingles? Maybe he was just going mad? Had he really seen what he had at Frosty’s? Surely not? Kris took another swig of the sherry.

Rat-a-tat-tat

Sherry went flying out of Kris’ mouth. He stared at the door.

Rat-a-tat-tat

He picked up some tissues and began to mop up the spilled sherry from his beard and jacket, “Coming, coming!” He opened the door, “What is it?”

“Hello,” beamed Father Time, “I must confess, I wasn’t expecting to find you here…”

“Aggghhhhhh,” screamed a wide-eyed Kris Kringle, stumbling backwards into his apartment, bumping into his recliner armchair, and falling to the ground, “It’s Death! Come to claim my soul!”

“Oh nonsense. I won’t become the Grimm Reaper for a thousand millennia yet,” Father Time sniffed the stale air, “though something has definitely died in here recently…” He entered Kris’ apartment, clearly appalled at the mess around the room… empty milk bottles, discarded cookie tins.

“We don’t intend to claim ye soul,” explained Jack as he floated through the outside wall, "Well at least Jack doesn't", he gave Kris a little wink.

Kris screamed again, “Agggghhhhh! It’s a ghost!”

“Heh. I suppose that Jack is the ghost o’ Halloweens past…”

Hollie climbed through the single window, “I guess that makes me the elf of Christmas presents…”

“And me the cherub of Valentine’s yet to come,” continued Cupid as he flew in after Hollie.

By this stage Kris wanted another swig of sherry, only to find that the contents of the bottle had spilled all over his floor, “And what’s that supposed to be?” pointing at the rabbit that had just hopped through his front door.

“Just call me Peter, all my friends do,” Peter extended a paw in greeting.

Kris fainted.