Twinkle adjusted her aim with the Molotov cocktail to compensate for the eye patch, this blend of hot toddy with bourbon seemed to work best against Santa’s low level sleigh drones he got from Amazon. Her impish smile broadened as the toddy burst into flames on impact raining down liquid fire and sharpened candy canes into Santa’s compound. 

“Hey nice one” yelled Sparkle over the din of Rankin and Basses soundtrack of Burl Ives burble of Holly Jolly Christmas. Twinkle shrugged and reloaded thinking back to just a week ago when all was well, they were making toys in Santa’s workshop sipping nog and laughing.

There was a high whine and Twinkle threw herself into a snow bank on the edge of the gumdrop forest for cover. The snow and confections exploded into the air in the spot she had vacated with a whump. 

Holly ran up from behind, her peppermint breath raspy and loud, “Let’s pull back to the workshop” she puffed  “ I think we have some causalities.” 

Holly’s bright blue eyes blinked rapidly, like last year’s Jolly Molly Dolly  “we need to regroup and assess.” Twinkle nodded threw the readied toddy toward the enemy and followed belled shoes tinkling as she ran. 

Twinkle slipped in the workshop as the Chief Elf Jingle talked. His usually smooth albeit high voice was rough, his elf suit was singed from the top of this bell tipped cap to his pointy shoes. The whole workshop smelled from the earlier dropping of bombs made a potent mix of cinnamon, ginger and clove. They all were coughing for hours hacking lungs full of industrial grade ginger bread mix. 

“ Look people we need to hit hard. Take the old man down and fast or we won’t last the week. Brickle how are supplies?” He looked to his second in command.

Brickle was a tall elf as elves go almost three feet,  less jolly but a hell of an engineer and toy maker. Her work in injection molding plastics is legendary. She nodded stepped onto floor, stopped checked her list twice and began. “ We are down to a gross of Molotov toddy mix, two dozen fruit cake bombs for the catapult and 50 candy cane spears for hand to hand.” 

Sparkle sidled over to Twinkle “Hey ,what really set it off” Sparkle asked  “I wasn’t there” he whispered. His ginger hair was matted with sugar sweat and bits of pinecones. “ Twinkle leaned back against the old timbers and sighed readjusting her glittery eye patch again and  twisted her mouth down. “Come on Twinkle you were there tell me. Is it true Santa was going to age some of us out and outsource to Amazon? Twinkle picked at her green velvet jacket trying to get the clumps of gum drops off. “No”, she whispered barely shaking her diminutive yellow haired head. “ Was he was getting rid of candy corn from the canteen?” Twinkle shook her head again not tearing her gaze away from her the crowd of elves arguing about trying to persuade the reindeer to help them, who were staying neutral they knew who the hay maker around here was. 

There was a deafening explosion, and the workshop shook sending glitter and sawdust everywhere. The elves took cover under the work benches strewn with toys, electronics and the new line of J Lo holiday glitter all over makeup. Jangle yelled to stay under cover while Brickle urgently worked the walkie-talkie for an update from the Sentry Bungle which did not bode well for anyone. There was a crackle then his voice reported that the distillery site was hit and there was hose damage.

The emergency repair team jumped into action to address the direct hit. Twinkle being chief health and safety officer joined the team and took off out the back door to help. On the mad dash across the gumdrop forest, she remembered her last talk with the Clauses. 

Twinkle talking to Santa about moderating his nogging it up as the scales were tipping higher and higher. Reminding them the reindeers were getting older to have to lift his weight. Mrs. Clause was frustrated with Santa’s extreme weight this year and not being able to get life insurance due to his excesses of candy, candy canes, candy corn and syrup. In addition, was this year’s extra creamy nog and barrels of bourbon were just too much. Twinkle tried to placate both sides knowing this was a fine line and luckily, she had tiny, belled feet to walk it. 

“Santa, Twinkle cajoled maybe a little yoga, or walking could keep you from tipping into the danger zone.” Mrs. Claus frustrated nodded her round apple cheeked head vigorously causing springy grey curls to bounce. Santa looked at the two sets of pleading eyes however blurry and nodded how bad could a couple of stretches be? Twinkle demonstrated a modified Warrior One pose and urged Santa to follow. He struggled but managed to recreate enough of a semblance of the pose when Twinkle added just a slight arch in her back and Santa followed sweating and swaying as he stood in front of Twinkle. 

“Great, and one more long reach back” Twinkle said soothingly when there was a pop, pop, pop and Twinkle grabbed her face in pain. As Santa arched his back the buttons of his jacket popped off in all directions one hitting Twinkle nearly putting her eye out. The exact reason the elves did not make anything like a Red Ryder BB Gun.

As Twinkle approached distillery site for the repairs the main still was intact but the hoses were damaged, nog and bourbon were everywhere. As she helped with the clean-up and repair, she remembered  Mrs. Clause screeching “I am done with this, I am putting my foot down come January the whole North Pole will be on a juice cleanse and participating including Dry January no negations.” That was Day One of the Revolt.

– Cheers Kyra

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