bedeviled & beyond 06.5 - bedeviled & bah humbug by sam cheever Page A

“Come on, boys. Let’s get this naughty girl to the North Pole.”
    The elves surged forward, their fat, stumpy fingers reaching for me, and I just barely swallowed a scream.
    It wouldn’t be manly to shriek over the touch of a bunch of vertically challenged rodents.
    The air shimmered and, before I could even squeal, I was being spaceshift-napped.
    Again.
    When sound and movement returned I was standing in the center of a massive room filled with toys and gifts in various stages of completion. The walls were covered in glittery snowflakes, interspersed with bright red ornaments that hung from gold beads, arrayed across all four walls. Bright, silver garland draped from the corners of the ceiling and met in the middle at a giant, spinning disco ball. The ball sent vibrant colors pulsing around the room like a tattoo parlor sign. An enormous Christmas tree, flashing with tiny lights and nearly drooping under an avalanche of fake snow and ornaments, stood watch over hundreds of brightly wrapped packages.
    A large sign hung on the nearest wall. It read, “Elves of the North Pole, Unite!”
    The room smelled like an odd combination of sawdust and sugar cookies.
    My senses went on overload as soon as we landed.
    General tittering ensued and I remembered I was nakies. Doing the arm and hand cover thing again, I glared at Ralphy. “You could at least have let me get dressed.”
    “Then we wouldn’t have had something to dream about for the rest of our days,” offered a slightly tinny, male voice.
    I turned to look at the face of an elf who was ambling toward us holding a clipboard. His wide face was gristly with a sparse brown beard and his nose was bright red, upturned like his shoes. He’d eschewed the drooping, conical hat and wore a Hooters – North Pole baseball cap instead.
    Classy.
    Ralphy rolled his eyes. “Back off, Bob! Astra’s not some Hooter’s waitress, here to entertain you. She’s gonna help us find Santa.”
    I glared down at the horny, short guy. “Bob, if you don’t turn those beady blacks in a different direction in about three seconds you’re gonna be eating that nasty hat.”
    Bob’s eyebrows did a tacky little dance. “Bring it, baby. I think I can take you.”
    I did a slow perusal of his three foot something form and lifted an eyebrow of my own. “The only way you’re gonna ‘take’ me is if I’m already dead.”
    Bob shrugged. “If that’s the way it’s gotta be.”
    A chorus of disgusted sounds lifted around us.
    The scent of vanilla and sugar was suddenly infused with flowers and I felt a small, warm hand on my arm. I looked down into the rosy face of a pretty female elf. “Come on, honey. I’ll get you some clothes. I think Mx. Claus might have something to fit you.”
    Having seen a recent picture of Mx. Claus I barely held back a snort. I’m sure, to the vertically challenged all us “bigs” looked the same. But I swore to myself that, if Mx Claus’s clothes fit me I was swearing off food for a month.
    Never-the-less, preferring any clothing at that point to none, I hurried after the tiny female elf, whose name I later learned was Bell.
    Anything to get away from Elf Bob’s leering face.
    ~SC~
    A half hour later I stood in Santa’s office, trying to cling to the last shred of my dignity as I searched the room for an errant magic signature. Given the fact that I was swimming in one of Mama Claus’ bright red shirts with a fake white fur collar, and stuffed into a pair of Bell’s ‘fat’ pants, clinging to dignity was a tall order.
    The pants were so tight at the hips they gave me muffin top, and they belled out at the bottoms. Since the bottoms only reached my knees, they looked truly ridiculous. Mx. Claus’ shirt was longer than the pants if I didn’t keep tugging it north, and the overlong sleeves were a series of puffs that ended in more fur.
    I had caterpillar arms.
    But the worst thing was the giant panties I’d had to borrow from Mx. Claus. They used more