I was peacefully sleeping on top of the covers while my parents clueless parents slumbered next to me when I heard a motor and saw flashing red and green lights. I am a curious dog so I went to the window, and looked through the window, to see a drone hovering right outside the window. Sitting on top of it was a strange, small person, wearing all red, and a cap, with a white ball on top., and white trimmings around the neck. “Let me in,” the creature said. I saw helicopters above with searchlights. I told him I didn’t know how and he said all I had to do was welcome him inside and he would have access, like the world’s tiniest, fanciest dressed vampire, but with the helicopter getting closer, and the creature not turning into a bat, I allowed it inside.
The elf appeared inside the house, and parked the drone under the bed, then asked me for a cookie. At first, I said we didn’t because I didn’t want to be implicated in an elf-flying drone scandal, but when he mentioned Oreos I showed him where they were. He ate so many dark chocolate fudge Oreos I thought he would explode.
“Why are you flying a drone around?” I asked him, once he had stopped eating and emitted a tiny elf burp.
“Santa’s orders,” the elf told me. “The old guy is slipping. He used to know when you were sleeping, know when you’re awake, know if you’ve been bad or good, now he can’t remember what day it is, for goodness sake. So he has we elves build drones, and now, with Christmas approaching we have been tasked with using the drones to spy on the kids, under an act by Santa’s Villiage Security.
“These freaking adults,” he said shaking his head. “You can land a sleigh full of presents, with a fat guy on top, being dragged by nine strangely muscular reindeer, and they don’t notice. And they don’t care he comes into their house and creeps around while they are sleeping, but an elf on a tiny drone puts them on high alert.
“But people will notice if their rotten kid gets lots of presents and little Timmy Angel gets crap in his stocking.”
“I thought it was cool,” I said.
“It used to be but there were so many rotten kids we were getting weighed down with coal. Plus he is eating all those cookies. Taking a dump in a rotten kid’s stocking eliminated a lot of problems.”
The elf looked out the window and saw the helicopters had left. “I have to be getting back, but don’t worry, you will be getting a very good report, because Murphy Bowman, you’re a good dog.”
I told him that wasn’t my name.
“Well it is for Christmas, unless you want to cause trouble, and if you do, before we get to your house I am putting Ex-Lax in Santa’s milk before we get to your house.’
And then the elf was gone, to mid-identify more kids as good or naughty.
I think a lot of good kids better carefully check their stockings this Christmas and take nothing for granted.
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