The heart of the holidays has long since turned cold and black as ink.
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Well, ever since I ruined it?
Hey. The name's Elfis Presly. I'm an elf, well I used to be an elf ever since Santa fired me. Now I'm the guitarist for a metal band.
That doesn't happen at the end of the story, if that's what you're thinking.
"You're. . . You're fired!" yelled Santa.
He was mad at me, well, because I may have created actual bombs instead of bath bombs. Hey, all the box said was:
Activates with water
So, you see, I made a water activated bomb! I was pretty proud of myself when I made it, because I had previous experience back in World War 2, but we don't talk about that.
"I'm fired? You can't fire me! I'm the smartest elf in this entire godforsaken land! You know what, once I move back to New York, I'm going to file you for child labor!"
All the other elves gasped. Nobody talks about it, but there are some pretty ugly stuff that happens behind the curtains of la-la-la's and he-he-he's.
Santa's brows twitched. "If you do, I will find you and personally tar you in front of all of the elves."
I gulped. The last tar-ing was back in '03, and boy, did Santa not hold back.
"Y-Yes, sir!"
I made sure I got my little elf butt out of there.
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Now, ten years later, I'm the guitarist in The Metalest Black Dark Blackest Black Screaming Black Holes of Fire, band. And I'm the local 'candy cane' dealer behind the 7-eleven. And I gotta say, I'm glad I got out of there.
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