(By Madam Mimm)

Sam was very glad there was no one else in the elevator, since he and his approximate eighteen billion bags of assorted Christmas crap took up most of it. He deposited the bags on the floor and leant back against the mirrored wall, wrecked from spending five hours collecting presents, decorations and who-knows-what other impulse buy crap. Track after track of cheapy cutesy Christmas music had been blared into his skull, he had been blinded by garish tinsel and if he never smelled peppermint or pumpkin again it would be too soon. Just as he was wondering if the elevator ride to the sub-basement car park would give him enough time to fall asleep, the doors clunked open and an elf walked in.

The elf pressed the sub-basement button, sighed heavily as the doors slid closed, and scratched under the brim of his oh-so-abominably-cutesy hat with his candy cane accessory. He caught Sam's bemused stare in the mirror, and spun on his heel to face him.

"Can I help you?"

"Sorry… uh… just thought I was… suffering Christmas hallucinations."

"Nope. Real as the shit you've filled up the entire elevator with."

"Oh, sorry," Sam tried to tidy some of his bags into a neater herd, and the elf seemed to soften a little in response.

"Thanks. And, sorry for snapping. Just… been one of those days, you know?"

"Yeah, Sam nodded, before realising "actually, no, why are you dressed as an elf?"

"I figured I could get some extra cash working the Christmas grotto. I was aiming for Santa Clause, but apparently they had sixteen Santa applicants and two elves, so now I'm in these goddam tights, my feet are killing me, and I haven't eaten anything since five this morning because the goddamn candy cane they gave me? It's plastic." He knocked it against the doors to prove his point. Sam grimaced, nodding.

"Yeah. That's… that's tough…" he rooted around in one of his bags, before finding a paper bag of something labelled "Reindeer droppings" and offered it to the elf. The elf raised an eyebrow. Sam shook his head. "They're chocolate coated almonds."

"Well yeah, I figured it wasn't a bag full of crap," the elf said, snatching the bag to the sound of jingling bells on his collar. Sam leant back against the mirror, giving the feral elf as much room as possible. He scowled as the elf tore into the bag of holiday treats and devoured the contents.

"I know it might be new to you, but humans say 'thank you' to one another."

Sometimes, Sam really wished he could just keep his head down and not say anything. The elf turned on him.

"Look, buddy, all I want to do is get out of this elevator and get out of this freaking nightmare store. When I get to my car, I will give you the five goddamn bucks you paid for these stupid chocolates. I'd give it to you now, but I left my wallet in my other tights." The elf hissed, to another chorus of jingling bells, before throwing the crumpled up paper bag into one of Sam's shopping bags.

Sam debated his options here.

He could just stay there and stay quiet, wait for the elevator to hit the parking lot and then laugh about this later.

He could calmly but firmly inform the elf that, regardless of how bad his day had been, everyone got stressed during the holidays and that was no excuse to act like an ass.

Or, he could kill the elf.

He'd had a long, stressful day shopping, he had plenty of potential weapons, and not a jury in the world would convict him.

In the end, Sam settled for leaning over and pushing the sub-basement button again.

That was when the elevator broke down.

The elf turned eyes of murder, flame, brimstone and napalm on Sam.

"What. Did you. Do?"

"Nothing! I didn't…"

"Eurgh!" The elf sort of grunted-wailed-screamed, before hammering the help button and descending to the floor when he got no answer. He drew his knnes up and sat with his head in his hands. "I hate this holiday! The worst, most ridiculous… I'm Jewish! I shouldn't even have to put up with this!"

Sam waited for the Elf to calm down a little, before slipping to the floor opposite him.

"Do you… d'you want to maybe talk about it?"

The elf levelled him with another unimpressed eyebrow raise. Sam shrugged.

"I'd feel responsible if I let a homicidal elf out on the public." He extended his hand across the small gap between them. "Sam."

The elf, after a moment's hesitation, shook Sam's hand.

"Gabriel."

Sam bit back a laugh.

"Really? As in…"

"Yes, 'as in'. Because life is cruel and ironic."

When Sam had decided to do all of his Christmas shopping in one day, he had expected a little stress and strain, some annoying music and a few crowds. He had not expected to be spending time stuck in an elevator between the ground and basement, counselling an elf named Gabriel. As he listened to the description of the worst Santa's grotto ever, he found a couple of bottles of triple strength egg nog and cracked them open. There were worse ways to spend an hour or two, he guessed.