Bob elf, Jennifer elf, and Major Fluffy elf were so close to Santa they could almost touch him.
“Squee week!” said Major Fluffy.
“Oh yes,” said Bob. “Because he sees you when you are sleeping. He knows when you’re awake. He knows if you’ve been bad or good. So–”
“We eek, ee eee eee eek,” added Major Fluffy.
Jennifer loosened up with a few jumping jacks.
The Spaceheadz elves were so excited by the idea of a man in a red suit making all of their wishes come true that, like Santa himself, they did not notice what was happening with the little doughnut-stuffed boy on Santa’s bouncing knee.
The little kid’s eyes were bugging out.
Santa bounced his knee.
The little kid’s cheeks bulged.
Santa shouted out, “I’ve got it!”
Santa gave one last bounce with his knee.
Mega-Gulp cola gasses and Holidayz HoHoHoles expanded.
The doughnut-stuffed kid tilted his head back and spewed a geyser of half-digested Holidayz HoHoHoles and sticky brown Mega-Gulp cola up into an overhead ceiling fan.
The fan splattered a slimy shower of red-and-green-sprinkled doughnut chunks on everyone and everything within twenty feet of Santa.
Someone screamed.
The doughnut kid took a deep breath . . . and then sprayed another fire-hose blast of cola and Dunker’s chunks over the rest of the line waiting for Santa.
The crowd screamed in disgust and horror. Moms and dads grabbed their dripping, crying kids and charged the exit.
“Amazing,” said Bob. “I have never seen an Earth person explode like that.”
“He forgot to raise his hand,” said Jennifer.
More screams. The smelly mob pushed frantically to get out into the open air.
“Eeeek,” added Major Fluffy.
Santa jumped up, dumping the barfing kid on the floor. Santa ripped off his upchuck-speckled red coat and pants, and plowed through the screaming, smelly crowd wearing nothing but his Santa hat, his red-white-and-blue AAA long underwear, and his coal black Santa boots.
Bob and Jennifer and Major Fluffy stood dripping in front of Santa’s empty chair.
“Eeek eek week,” said Major Fluffy.
“You are not kidding,” said Bob. “And no pony for me either.”
“Now how do we tell Santa our SPHDZ wish?” said Jennifer.
Bob looked around. Bob thought. Bob said, “I think Santa must be playing an Earth game. Like tag.”
“Boo-yah!” yelled Jennifer. “Let’s catch Santa! Let’s catch Santa!”
The disappointed kids took up Jennifer’s chant, “Let’s catch Santa! Let’s catch Santa!”
The moms and dads decided that this must be a new way for their kids to talk to Santa. They had to chase him and catch him. The parents joined in the chant, “LET’S CATCH SANTA! LET’S CATCH SANTA!”
The three urp-covered Spaceheadz elves ran out of Dunker’s and right past an openmouthed Michael K. and a nose-covering Venus on the sidewalk outside.
“Come on, Michael K.!” yelled Bob as he sprinted by. “We are going to catch Santa and tell him our wishes!”
A gang of moms, dads, kids, and strollers followed the elves.
It took Michael K.’s brain a second to register what had just happened. It took Michael K.’s brain another second to process what the smelly elf had just yelled.
“NOOOOOOO!” yelled Michael K. after the disappearing elves. “Wait a minute!”
“Michael K. is very funny,” said running Jennifer. “He wants us to wait sixty seconds . . . so he can catch Santa and tell him his wish first.”
“Ha, ha,” laughed Bob in a terrible imitation of a real human laugh. “No way we will wait for sixty seconds.”
“Eeee eeee,” laughed Major Fluffy.
And the Spaceheadz elves ran even faster toward disaster.
