Sausagey Santa Read Online Free PDF Page B

ability to travel at the speed of light but never does because the wind force would peel Santa’s face off of his head and meat gravy would spill out onto the houses below.
    In the distance, there are towers made of ice. They are jagged and spiky. Like a forest of glass crab legs. There is a whole city of people down there. No, not people. They are elves.
    “Arr, arr, arrrrgh!” Santa says.
    I still have to get used to him saying that instead of ho, ho,
    ho.
    He gives me a big walnut smile as he takes us in for a
    landing.
     
     
    Upon landing, the sleigh gets swarmed by hundreds of elves. Their voices are like millions of locust wings flapping through the air. Three of the elves approach us as we step down from the seats of lightning.
    They are only four feet tall but very thin with long pointy ears. They aren’t at all as plump and munchkin-like as I was expecting. All three of them wear dark green business suits with white shirts and red ties, carrying clipboards with pens flipping through their tiny fingers. One of them is a bald elf with a white handlebar mustache. Another elf is a female with a white pixie haircut. And the third elf has a white . . . SLY GUY HAIRCUT!
    He catches my eyes and we both slick back our hair at each other. Then we snap and point finger-guns at one another. This guy is sly. I like him.
    “What is the problem?” Pixie Elf asks Santa. “You’ve barely completed the second quadrant.”
    “He smells of beer,” Bald Elf says. “Are you flying drunk
    again?”
    Their voices are all mousey and squeaky.
    “Nay, nay!” Santa says. “Well . . . aye. Aye, I had a few to drink. But that’s not why I be comin’ round. We’ve a major emergency tonight. Frosty the Nazi bastard done stolen me bag of toys.”
    The elf crowd’s locust-flapping voices raise so loudly they sound like an avalanche.
    “Me pal, de one and only Sly Guy Matthew Fry, is here to help.” As Santa speaks, the elves clamor with amazement at his words, whispering It’s the Sly Guy! or some say Oh, wow, Matt Fry! “Frosty has kidnapped his children and we have to fight to get them back.”
    I had no idea I was famous anywhere, let alone the North Pole. I look out among the crowd of elves and see dozens of sly guy haircuts. They aren’t quite as slick as my ‘do, but are still pretty sweet.
     
     
    The elves carefully take Decapitron out of the backseat and put her on a greasy black octopus-shaped cart. The tentacles of the octopus squirm towards the ground as if it’s alive.
    “They’ll be fine, lad,” Santa says, as the cart squirt-drives her away to one of the glass buildings in the distance.
    I notice there aren’t a lot of colors around here. I was expecting the North Pole to be filled with bright lights and colorful buildings. It seems like the place would be more like a giant toy box. But everything is white and black and gray. The elves even have white hair and light gray skin. The only color is in the clothing worn by the elves.
     
     
    Bald Elf climbs a spiral staircase that leads to an icicled steel platform.
    “Elves,” Bald Elf says to the crowd. “Frosty has committed an act of war. He has stolen Santa’s bag in an attempt to foil Christmas. We will not stand for this.”
    Bald Elf breaks a tiny icicle off of his handlebar mustache. He holds it with his index finger and his thumb and points it up at the sky like a tiny sword.
    “Elves,” he continues. “Tonight we go to war! ”
    The elves cheer. They begin a chant: “Fight for Christmas! Fight for Christmas! Fight for Christmas! Fight for Christmas!”
    Bald Elf stabs his icicle up and down with every syllable of the chant.
    Sausagey Santa nods his balloon of a head at the crowd of elves and winks at me with his green olive eyes.
     

 
    CHAPTER FIVE
    HYPERSPACE PANTIES
     

 
     
    We board a small rust-colored train and take it deep inside of the crystal facility. Bald Elf stays behind to organize the elven troops. Sly Guy Elf sits next