The Egotistical Elf.

Randle was a mediocre elf at best, his toy making skills were barely passable, often clumsy and misaligned. But Randle believed in his heart that he was the best elf. He was, in his eyes, an excellent craftsman. The Real producer. Sometimes he would even take credit for the work of other elves. And even worse still, he was a sycophant. He would often strut through the workshop with a wonky smile and sidle up to Santa.

"Wow Santa, your beard is just perfect” or some other such falsehood, he would exclaim, his squeaky voice bouncing off the candy-cane striped walls. Seeing through the diminutive elf’s fake flattery, Santa would chuckle quietly to himself.

When once again he didn’t win the annual car crafting competition , as it was inevitable that he wouldn’t, one year he had such a tantrum that Santa sent him to elfentry. But even that did little to stop his behaviour.

The other elves tolerated him because they had to. For the most part, they just tried to get on with the job in hand and pay no heed to the conceited elf. As they continued to ignore him, Randle became increasingly delusional; believing his own hype and making sure to talk about his skills as loudly as possible whenever there was opportunity. Their lack of response angered him and a bitter toxicity began to build in his mind.

Santa, being of the omnipotent magical variety deity, saw what was happening and decided an intervention was needed. He thought about what to do, long and hard, concluding that Randle needed a wholesome dose of humanity.

He would designate him the, ‘Elf on the Shelf’. Randle was beside himself with self-congratulatory glee, Puffing out his chest, he accepted the 'honour' with the kind of dramatic flair reserved for Shakespearian villains, "Fear not, my dearest Santa! I shall be the the most excellant guardian of Christmas there ever was, I shall bestow joy on the Nantwich family" he proclaimed, thrusting his arm skyward. The other elves rolled their eyes and tittered at his ridiculousness. But they were angry, questioning how in toy town’s good name could such an elf receive such an accolade. But this frustration soon dissipated as they came to the realisation that they would be Randle free for a few weeks.

Of course, hampered by his own ego and arrogance Randle quickly caused a stir in the Nantwich household. But not quite the kind Santa had been hoping to achieve. Instead of joyful little stunts meant to amuse, Randle’s antics were grandiose, boastful and for the most part, had absolutely nothing to do with making the children smile.

In fact, his first caper was to attach himself to the living room chandelier donned in a red superhero cape; wielding a large sign decreeing himself, ‘The Greatest elf of all time’.

Kira and Jake Nantwich, the starry-eyed children of the household, discovered him the next morning. They laughed initially, but their smiles soon contorted into puzzled exchanges. "Why would an elf think he's a superhero?" Jake whispered, turning to his older sister. Kira shrugged, her interest in Randle already waning. But, still, they gave Randle the benefit of the doubt, hoping that his behaviour was just first day nerves.

It wasn’t, of course. Randle continued with his selfish shenanigans; posing in various configurations. All in much the same self-absorbed vein. The children quickly became bored. Undeterred, Randle escalated his antics. Each morning crafting another more ostentatious self-serving display; He fashioned a throne out of Lego blocks, and sat at the top of it with a paper crown one night and the next, he rearranged the placements on the dining room table, placing himself as the head of the family.

"He's so strange," Kira confided to Jake one evening, as they peeked around their bedroom door to find Randle perched at the top of the banister. "Yeah," Jake agreed, "He's not like the other elves." The children were completely baffled by him. The elf on the shelves they had experienced in the past had been far less attention seeking. Amusing at least. But this one, they just couldn't fathom.And he just wasn't funny at all.

They began to ignore his antics completely; refusing to give him the attention he so craved. Randle, instead of looking inward and considering his own weaknesses, became even more angry and bitter than usual. This manifested in very unfitting behaviour for any elf, let alone, the ‘Elf on the Shelf.’

Randle became obsessed with placing himself on a pedestal, always making sure to position himself on the highest shelf or top stair. From there he would look down on the family; judging and sneering, and sometimes he would even whisper snide remarks. His presence became an increasingly dark menace and the family became more and more disconcerted.

One particular ice filled morning, the children encountered Randle languishing awkwardly at the top of a pile of broken toys. His face distorted by a sinister smirk. Another night, they woke up to muffled sardonic laughter, only to find Randle staring at them from the zenith of their bookshelf, his eyes following their every move. Terrified, they ran to their parents' room. "Mom, Dad, please," Jake begged, "can't we just get rid of it? He's just freaky!" But their parents were bound by the rules of Snow magic, the most powerful sorcery of all - they were forbidden from touching Randle. Hugs and soothing words were all they could offer, "We can't, kids. It's part of the magic. Not long until the end of December, I promise” their mother soothed as she ruffled their hair. Though she too was disconcerted by the bizarre little elf that had dampened her children’s Christmas cheer.

Christmas eve could not come soon enough for Kira and Jake. They had formulated a plan. There was only one course of action in their minds. Alongside the customary milk, cookies and a carrot for Rudolph, they would also leave Santa a letter outlining all of their grievances against Randle. It was their only hope of salvaging the Christmas spirit before the big day and it was too late.

That night they went to bed, their hearts were fearful of what Randle might do overnight, but they clung to the small hope of Santa.

Christmas morning arrived along with a blanket of snow, the children woke cautiously, scanning their bedroom. Nothing. They sidled out of bed, donned their slippers and went slowly downstairs. All the while careful to watch out for a hijacking from Randle. Still Nothing. They began to relax.

In the kitchen, replacing their letter they had written, the children discovered another note,

Dear Kira and Jake,

It is with deep sincerity that I apologise for the behaviour of my elf. I sought only to bring joy to your Christmas, but I can see that his has not been the case. Christmas is a time of goodwill and happiness. Selflessness and kindness to all. The elf will be dealt with accordingly and you have my word that he will not return to your home in the future.

May your Christmas be merry and bright, filled with the love and laughter that you both so deserve.

Your Truly,

Santa

The egotistical elf was gone. The delight and wonderment of Christmas returned quickly to Kira and Jake’s eyes. But as long as they would live, they would never have another ‘Elf on the Shelf’, and neither would their own children and grandchildren after that. Randle would become a cautionary family tale of what happens when pride and arrogance consume the heart.

And Randle? Well let’s just say that Santa kept him busy in the Reindeer stables.

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