Santa’s most special little elf

“Next letter. ‘Dear Santa. Please please, I want Mommy and Daddy to be together again. Liza, age six thank you Santa.'”

“Damn. Again one of those. I hate these letters.”

“The database says the Mommy is Virginia Liddell. Ran away with the family janitor. I’ll mail Jack their current address and the target.”

* * *

Jack the Most Special Elf squeezed the trigger, heard the rifle cough, and departed while Mark Hazzell, formerly a janitor, fell, his shirt swiftly turning a festive-bright shade of red. He fell to the green Astroturf, white froth bubbling out of his mouth; being busy with expiring he utterly failed to see how seasonal this combination of red, green and white was.

One such wish down, three thousand eleven-hundred and one to go.

If there only were more naughty little children, but no!

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