Collection of Stories for Demented Children

by Carroll, John H.

  Sugared plums began splattering messily all over the ground in front of the elves and into the crowd. Mrs. Claus gasped as she realized what the fairies were doing. “Oh, how brilliant,” she remarked quietly. She turned around and headed back inside, smiling to herself.

  Santa had never missed a Christmas Eve in all the time he had been giving toys to children. He wouldn’t miss this one either, but something was definitely wrong. It wasn’t the first time people had attacked on Christmas Eve. Everyone knew it was the best time. Mrs. Claus remembered a few decades earlier when a group of drunken Scottish gentlemen invaded just to steal some wooden duckies on wheels because they hadn’t gotten any as children.

  Mrs. Claus hurried up the stairs and into the bedroom she shared with Mr. Claus. Piteous groans came from the bathroom where he had been spending way too much of his time. “Are you alright, dear?” she asked through the door.

  “No, no, no,” he moaned from the other side. “I’ll be out in a minute.” His normally jolly voice was filled with misery.

  “Alright, dear. I’ll be out here when you need me.” Mrs. Claus sighed and looked around the room. She walked to the cage wrapped by a pretty red bow and containing a miserable black bunny that had been sent to them by the Easter Bunny. “What in the world am I going to do with a bunny named Emo?” she asked the unhappy creature, noticing that it had purple streaks in its fur. “Go free little bunny.” Mrs. Claus said a few words of magic, made specific gestures and cast a spell that sent the bunny back to the forest from whence it came.

  It was a well-kept secret that Mrs. Claus was a witch, a good one though, not one of the green, warty witches. Santa had met her in the forests of Germany where they fell in love. Upon discovering how much he cared for children, she had given him the enchantments for the reindeer and sleigh. In addition to that, she introduced him to the elves, knowing they loved building things and would be immensely helpful at making the toys.

  She didn’t like to use magic on her husband, but with the way he was feeling, it seemed like it would be the only choice. There had been a few times when she had given him herbal remedies because he didn’t feel well. It was unusual that he was having so many problems with his bowels all of a sudden. Regrettably the sleigh didn’t have a restroom, and Santa tried to avoid using the bathroom at the houses where he delivered toys. It seemed rude to leave the gift of gas in a person’s bathroom.

  She sat down on the luxurious red comforter and took a sip of Santa’s hot chocolate from his nightstand. It only took her an instant to realize that there was an odd taste to it, one she recognized. “Prune juice! Someone spiked the hot chocolate with prune juice!” Mrs. Claus exclaimed in amazement. “Who would do such a thing?”

  Santa appeared in the bathroom doorway. “I thought it tasted funny. Is that why I have to keep using the toilet?”

  “Yes! I don’t know who would do that, but not to worry. Give me just a few minutes and I’ll brew up a potion that will immediately solve the problem,” Mrs. Claus assured him. She stood and went to her spell room next to the bedchamber.

  Santa’s stomach grumbled and he pointed over his shoulder. “I’ll be in here. I’m just glad the elves installed that fancy new toilet with the self-warming seat last year.”

  ***

  The three sugar plum fairies under the tree initially didn’t see Mrs. Claus go back inside because they were too busy watching the beginning of the battle. Sugar plums were splattering on the ground and the elves. Whenever an elf got plum juice on his outfit, he would immediately stop and frantically try to wipe it off.

  Elves hated getting messy more than anything else in the world. They wouldn’t even walk on the plum juice that was splattered all over the ground by that point. Their workspaces were always perfectly clean and whenever their clothes got even a little bit of dirt on them, they would change. Sticky sugared plum juice didn’t clean off easily though and it was everywhere. To make matters worse, half of the elves were already drunk and staggering into others.

  The few elves that did get by were thunked in the head by sugar cubes shot from the wand of fairies flitting by. Zannae did a little twirl. “It’s working! Yay!”

  “It will only work for a few minutes before the elves regroup. We need to get to Santa’s computer or else it’s all for nothing,” Sydae scolded.

  “It looks like Mrs. Claus went back inside without closing the door. Now’s our chance,” Araedae said, motioning them to follow. The three of them flitted up the steps and into the doorway.

  A beautiful living room with burgundy furniture, lush green carpeting, candy-cane wall paper and a giant Christmas tree greeted their eyes. A fireplace warmed the room while the scent of cinnamon and hot cocoa drifted through the air. Christmas carols played softly from an old stereo in the corner.

  “Their room is up the stairs. We have to go through it to get to the office,” Araedae told them as she flew slowly up.

  “Won’t Santa and Mrs. Claus be in the room?” Sydae asked. They all stopped and exchanged glances. “Exactly why did we put prune juice in Santa’s hot chocolate?”

  “We did it so he wouldn’t be able to help the elves defend against the attack.” Araedae answered. “There’s no way the fairies would be able to take on Santa too. It made sense at the time.”

  “We didn’t think about Mrs. Claus either,” Sydae pointed out.

  “She’s really nice from what I hear. All the reindeer love her. Comet’s wife, Sharla, told me so.” Zannae said with a nod.

  “I can’t believe we kidnapped Sharla so that Comet would sneak the prune juice into Santa’s hot chocolate. I feel bad for Sharla most of all, but at least she’s been understanding about the whole thing.” Araedae said with a sigh. “It had to be done though. We just don’t have any choices left to us.”

  “I still don’t understand how a reindeer can sneak prune juice into hot chocolate,” Sydae said, her face twisting in confusion. “They don’t have hands and they’re much too big to sneak around.”

  They all exchanged glances and shrugged.

  “We have to try to get into the computer as fast as possible. Let’s go.” Araedae zipped the rest of the way up the stairs and went to the Claus’s bedroom door to peek in. “It looks clear. I don’t see Santa or Mrs. Claus.”

  They carefully walked along the floor toward the office, which was on the far side of the bedroom. Halfway through, they passed the bathroom door and heard a loud disgusting noise. “It sounds and smells like the prune juice is working,” Zannae said, waving her hand back and forth in front of her scrunched up face.

  “Ugh. Let’s get this done as fast as possible,” Araedae suggested. They took to the air and flew toward the open office doorway. “There’s no one here. Zannae, go to the computer right away.” She pointed toward the computer desk against the far wall. The monitor’s screensaver was scrolling through various tropical beach scenes. “Sydae and I will watch the door.”

  “You got it!” Zannae zipped toward the desk and tapped the keyboard to get rid of the screensaver. Then she began gracefully dancing on the keys in order to hack into the system.

  “Wow. What a neat globe,” Sydae said as she darted off to a table where a brilliantly colored globe sat slowly spinning.

  “We’re supposed to be watching the door,” Araedae said in exasperation. She stared at the globe from a distance. “You’re right. It really is pretty.”

  “It has Santa’s workshops on it too and it looks like they move around.”

  Araedae couldn’t resist, she went over and joined her friend to stare at it in amazement.

  “What do you think you’re doing?!” a booming voice asked. The fairies turned to see Santa in the doorway. His shirt was rumpled and his hair was matted with sweat, but he was standing straight and looked angry.

  “Nice job of watching the door,” Zannae said with her arms spread wide while glaring at her two partners in crime.

  “We were looking at the pretty globe, Santa,” Sydae s
aid quickly, flying up to the usually jolly man. “You have a very nice office.” She gestured behind her back for Zannae to continue.

  Araedae saw what she was up to and flew up as well. “Oh yes. It’s a very nice office and the globe is very pretty. We were just trying to see if we could find our home.”

  Mrs. Claus came in behind her husband and looked at the fairies with narrowed eyes. “So you’re the ones who have been putting prune juice in my husband’s hot chocolate. Sugar plum fairies are attacking the elves too. What games are you playing?”

  “Reindeer games,” Araedae said quickly.

  “Oh yes. Those are the best kind,” Sydae agreed.

  “You picked the wrong evening to irritate me,” Mrs. Claus said in angry tones. “Broom!” She held out her hand and a broom suddenly flew in from the other room. It was an old straw witch’s broom with green and red bows on it. She grabbed it by the handle and took a fierce swing at the fairies.

  Araedae ducked out of the way just in time, but the broom grazed Sydae and sent her crashing into the nearest wall where she crashed with a thud and fell to the floor.

  “Sydae! No!” Araedae shot a sugar cube from her wand directly between Mrs. Claus’s eyes. Then she flew down and took her unconscious friend into her lap. “Sydae! Don’t be hurt! I need you!”

  Mrs. Claus rubbed the bridge of her nose, and started swinging her broom in a circle like she was a baseball player going to bat. “I can’t believe you just hit me with a sugar cube. I’m going to squish you like a bug.”

  “Enough!” Santa yelled. “Will someone please explain to me what’s going on?” He put an arm out to prevent his wife from hitting the fairies. She turned her angry gaze on him. “Peace, dear. I would like to know what’s happening.”

  “I can explain, Santa,” Zannae said from the keyboard. “I’ve pulled up the file that proves that the sugar plum fairies have been bound to do the bidding of the elves.” She pointed at the screen.

  “What?” both of the Clauses said in surprise. They bent over the computer and peered at the monitor together.

  Zannae explained. “The picture on the left is the contract the elves had us sugar plum fairies sign. The picture on the right is the binding spell that the elves put into the contract so that we can never change the terms. They can change it all they want, but we can’t and it’s a terrible contract!”

  “That’s right,” the irritating voice of Jarlen the elf came from the doorway. Everyone turned as he walked into the office. “You’re just a bunch of fairies, so you have to do what we tell you.” He had a bright red spot between the eyes where the sugar cubes had hit him. It was a little known fact that sugar plum fairies were excellent shots.

  “Here now, you go too far!” Santa protested. “You elves were right to stand up for yourselves when working conditions were bad, but the Elf’s Union has become corrupt and greedy.”

  Jarlen sneered. “Whatever, Santa. Isn’t it about time you got in your sleigh and got going on your deliveries?”

  Sydae had woken up by that point and Araedae helped her stand on her feet. Turning to Santa, Araedae asked, “Did you know about the enchantment on the contract, Santa?”

  He looked down at the fairies and shook his head sadly. “No, pretty little fairy. I did not know. I have that computer, but only use it to play solitaire. Jarlen keeps track of all the legal paperwork. Please forgive me for the oversight.”

  “It doesn’t matter. No one’s changing the contract,” Jarlen said with a smirk. “The sugar plum fairies need to go back to dancing and you need to visit the good little boys and girls, Santa. Oof!” The last word came when Mrs. Claus whacked him in the side of the face with her broom, slamming him into the door, where he fell unconscious again.

  “That’ll be enough of that!” Santa’s wife said. Everyone looked at her in amazement. “I wish I had known about this enchantment earlier. I’d have done something about it sooner.” She turned to Zannae. “Can you print that binding spell out?” Zannae nodded and did so quickly. Mrs. Claus picked the paper up off the printer and set it on the table. “Everyone be quiet while I fix this.”

  They watched as Mrs. Claus began an incantation. Her voice took on an eerie quality and her hands began to glow as she moved them around gracefully above the paper. The designs on the paper glowed the same colors that her hands did. Suddenly, the paper burst into red and green flames. A moment later, it disintegrated.

  “It’s done. The sugar plum fairies are no longer bound to their contract,” Mrs. Claus declared. She wiped sweat off her forehead and leaned on the table tiredly.

  “That was a great deal of magic you’ve used, dear,” Santa said as he went over and took her into his arms.

  “We’re free!” Araedae declared triumphantly. All three fairies flew up into the air and met in a spinning hug. “No more skimpy outfits in the snow!”

  “You mean you don’t want to wear those outfits?” Mrs. Claus asked wearily from her husband’s arms.

  “No!” Araedae answered emphatically. “We have to because of that stupid contract. We have to dance all winter without any breaks. The cold and snow gives us sugarbumps.”

  “Sugarbumps?” Santa asked. “Do you mean goosebumps?”

  “No, we’re fairies. Goosebumps would be too big for us and that’s a silly name anyway,” Zannae pointed out. “We’re sugar plum fairies, so we get sugarbumps.”

  “Well I suppose that makes sense,” Santa replied. “I want to tell you again how sorry I am. I didn’t realize the elves had made such a terrible contract and bound you to it. Let’s take care of it right away and then I have presents to deliver! Ho, ho, ho!”

  Another Sugar Plum Fairy zipped in suddenly. “Araedae! We’re out of sugar plums and I don’t think we can hold off the elves anymore!”

  “Call off the attack! We succeeded!” Araedae declared triumphantly.

  The newcomer did a spin in the air. “Woohoo!” Then she zipped off just as fast as she had come in.

  “Attack?” Santa asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “It’s alright, dear. They got the elves messy with plum juice and knocked a few out with sugar cubes,” Mrs. Claus explained. “Now, little fairies, what are your demands?”

  Araedae ticked off the list on her fingers. “Sugar Plum fairies are to get paid in chocolate from now on. We weren’t getting paid at all, you know.”

  “I did not know that. Shameful,” Santa replied with a shake of his head.

  “Each of us will get a spa day every other week.” Araedae knew they wouldn’t go for that, but they had to make at least one outrageous request so the other side could bargain. “From now on, we get to wear age-appropriate fur coats and leggings.”

  “But we get to keep the tutus and stockings. Sometimes fairies like dressing up super cute,” Sydae interjected.

  Araedae nodded. “Yes, definitely. Also, we want hot chocolate breaks a few times a day. But most importantly, we don’t want to have to spend all winter at the North Pole anymore. Sugar Plum Fairies like warm climates with no snow.”

  “Those are all very reasonable requests,” Santa said with a nod. “I agree.”

  “The spa days every other week are not reasonable,” Mrs. Claus said, putting her hands on her hips.

  “You should give Mrs. Claus a spa day every week!” Zannae suggested. The other two sugar plum fairies nodded vigorously.

  “You are absolutely right,” Santa said with a smile. “And a spa day every week for my wonderful wife.” He kissed her on the cheek, and she blushed becomingly.

  Santa went to the table, wiggled his fingers and made three pieces of paper appear. They had North Pole letterhead at the top and candy cane borders. He took a quill and quickly moved it over the center paper without touching it. Words magically appeared in green ink on all three papers. When he was done, he signed his name on one of the signature lines, causing his signature to appear on all three pages. “Here you are: a contract agreeing to all your requests. Just sign at th
e bottom.”

  Zannae zipped over and fluttered above the papers for a moment, before nodding. “They look good, Araedae.”

  Araedae waved her wand over the line for her signature. Her name appeared in vibrant purple plum ink on all three contracts at the same time. “There. It’s done.”

  “Excellent! Now I have a sleigh to catch and toys to deliver!” Santa exclaimed. He put on his jacket, which had been hanging on a hook near the door. Mrs. Claus gave him a brush and told him to tidy his hair and beard in the sleigh. As the jolly old man headed down the stairs, they heard him exclaim. “Ho, ho, ho!”

  “Why don’t you invite all your friends in for hot chocolate and spice cake,” Mrs. Claus suggested. “We can have it in the ballroom. There’s plenty of space there for all of us. The elves can clean up the mess outside.”

  “Oh yes! We’d love that,” Araedae agreed, with nods from the other two. They followed Mrs. Claus past the unconscious body of Jarlen the elf, down the stairs and into the ballroom. The rest of the fairies joined them and they all thoroughly enjoyed wonderful hot chocolate and the best spice cake in the world. From that point on, the sugar plum fairies only wore the skimpy outfits when they wanted to and every fairy made certain to take advantage of their spa day every other week.

  The End

  ###

  About the Author

  John H. Carroll was the youngest of seven children and was born in Atlanta, Georgia in 1970 where he was kept in a dresser drawer with the clean socks. Luckily, he wasn’t kept with the dirty socks or else he might have grown up to become slightly warped.

  As a child, John spent most of his time wandering through the Mojave Desert in an attempt to avoid people. He would stare at the sky, imagining what it would be like to explore different worlds. One of his favorite memories is watching his dad build the fuselage of Evel Kneivel’s skycycle in their garage. One of his least favorite moments was watching that skycycle fall into the Snake River. (Not his dad’s fault and he has documentation to prove it, so nyah)