Bernard stayed in his room for days, only eating what Abby bought up to him. He was torn up. On the third day of staying in his room, Curtis came in.

"Hiya, Bernard." He said. "Feeling sad? Here's some cocoa." He put a mug of hot cocoa on the nightstand next to Bernard's bed. Bernard was getting angry that Curtis was in his

room. "How you doing?" He couldn't take it anymore. He hit the mug with his hand, causing it to smash against the wall and cocoa was all over the carpet.

"You want to do how I'm doing?!" He yelled. "I'll tell you. This is the worst thing you have ever done to me." Curtis was appalled.

"I just wanted to get you back. No big deal."

"It is a big deal, Curtis. All I did was duck when you throw the rag at him and it hit Santa. I never cost you your job! When I came here, I was just an elf making toys like everyone else here. I was hoping to get promoted at least to #2 elf. I did, and I was happy. When the head-elf retired, Santa, the other before the current one, gave me the job. I worked so hard for this and you had to take it away!"

"Bernard..." Curtis started.

"No! Just go. I don't want to talk to you or anybody." Curtis, starting to feel guilty, opened the door and left.

"How's Bernard doing, Curtis?" Santa asked, holding a cookie in one hand.

"Not too well." He replied, keeping his gaze away from Santa. He sighed and walked away. He was feeling really guilty for doing this.

Bernard didn't come down the whole day, and

stayed in his bed, reading a book. Once in a while, tears would fall down his cheeks and have a stain on the pages.

"Don't cry, Bernard. It's not the end of the world." He kept telling himself this. But nothing seemed to work. "I'm so pathetic."

"No, you're not." Abby said, walking in with a bowl of soup. "You're one of the best head-elves we've ever had here." He smiled at her.

"Thank you, Abby. But I don't think there's way for me to get back as Head-elf. Wait... as long as no one else has the job, I have a chance."

"Well... actually..." She began. He put up a hand to stop her.

"Don't tell me. Curtis is the head-elf now?" She nodded. "Great! Wait... I have an idea. Is there a 2nd head elf yet?"

"Nope, not yet."

"Alright... I have to get that job and overthrow Curtis."

"Are you really going to stoop to his level, Bernard?" She asked, with a stern look.

"He deserves it, after what he just put me through." He replied, wiping his eyes.

"But that was pretty mean of him. You don't want to be like Curtis do you?" He looked at her and shook his head. "Good. Just wait... Santa will realize he made a mistake and beg

you to come back." She smiled, leaving the bowl of soup on his nightstand and leaving the room. He sighed, pulling up his covers and shutting off the light. He didn't feel like soup.

The next day was the first day Bernard came down from his room. He avoided everyone and headed for the kitchen. But of course, Santa and Curtis were in there, eating

cookies. He tried his best to avoid them, but Santa called out his name.

"Yes, Santa?" He asked. He knew he had to talk to him sooner or later.

"Are you alright?" Bernard smiled, but Santa knew it was phony, as did Curtis.

"Who, me? Of course I'm alright! I'm just dandy! I feel great today! Now if you don't mind, I'm going to grab something to eat!" He walked away. But as his whole body was

turned, his eyes filled up with tears. Wiping them away, he grabbed a cookie and left.

"That was such a phony smile." Curtis said to Santa, who nodded. "I hope he's doing okay." Once again, Santa nodded.

Bernard was sitting in Santa's office, watching the puppets. He munched on his cookie.

"Why the long face?" They asked at the same time. He shook his head. He didn't want to talk at all.

"Fine, don't tell us!"

"I don't intend to." He whispered under his breath. Punch let out a "hmmph!" and continued to play with Judy. "What am I going to do?" He buried his face in his hands. He let out a heavy sigh.

Santa and Carol came in their room. They saw Bernard, with a very depressed look on his face. He spotted them and jumped up.

"Uh... Hello, Santa, Mrs. Claus." He stammered. "I'm sorry. I'll just leave." He ran out as fast as he could, and shutting the door behind him.

"He's not doing well." Carol whispered, stroaking her husband's white hair. He shook his head.

"No he isn't." He replied. "I don't know what to do Carol."

"Let him be head-elf again. It's that simple, dear."

"I can't do that. I can't just say Come back. He can work in the factory like he did a long time ago."

Carol took Santa's hand and put it to her face. Closing his eyes, Santa came to a very difficult decision.