Life: knock knock

Me: hello?

Life: You have a schedule now.

Me: What? *suddenly buried in exams and lessons and appointments*

I am so sorry! I meant to update sooner, but life's been crazy and I haven't had any free time. Whoops...

Disclaimer: I own only this slow progressing plot...please don't be mad...

"Hello, there, little guy. What's your name?"

The strange creature shook his head, jingling the bell on his hat. Jack and the-er-thing were in the North Pole, and Jack was trying to figure out where he'd come from. Jack had heard of Santa Claus, but never actually seen him face to face. Now it was Christmas, and Jack was determined to see him. Then Jack died.

Sorry. That last bit was my sister, SMH. Whoever figures out who that fanfic writer is can send any G-rated request they want. She had control over the keyboard and immediately wrote that. Hint: She says the word 'dang-o'.

The little creature bobbed it's head, shaking the bell. Laughing, Jack picked it up and continued his search for the Workshop. His eyes dropped to the small triangle-shaped creature in his arms. "You sure like to dingle, don't you?" The creature stood straight and saluted Jack. He laughed again. "Is that your name, Dingle?" The elf nodded enthusiastically.

Jack's eyes lit up as he spotted a large building, which he was positive was Santa's Workshop. He knocked on the door meekly. The creature jumped out of his arms and ran in the moment the door opened. Behind it was a scary creature, tall with scraggly fur. Jack looked up, intimidated by this large guy.

"Is this Santa's Workshop?" he asked timidly. The large dude nodded. "Can I come in?" Jack asked. "Arghrah, blehhullmegubab." The furry creature exclaimed, shaking his head. Jack jumped back, startled. "Phil, who is it?" A deep voice came from inside. Jack's eyes lit up. It's every child's dream to meet Sant Claus.

"Ah, you elves. Always getting under boot." Santa said. He came to the door, and Jack was surprised by how large he was. He had tattoos and seemed a little intimidating. But, Jack had priorities. "That's an elf?!" he said loudly, pointing to the small creature Jack had carried. Santa threw back his head and laughed.

"Yes, little sprite. That is elf. Is okay, I can't believe it either, and I live with them for centuries!" Santa said in a thick Russian accent. Jack gaped. After a second or two, he found his voice. "This is so cool! I can't believe you live here! You could pull all sorts of stunts-!"

"Sorry, little sprite. Would love to stay and talk, but I must get back to work! Stay on the nice list!" And with that, only Phil was left. Jack felt a little awkward. "So, I can't come in?" Phil shook his head. Jack sighed. Phil furrowed his eyebrows, staring at Jack's torn, worn shirt. He closed the door.

Surprised, Jack flew up to a window and walked in. He was in awe, staring at the toys that fulfilled his wildest dreams. Until he ran into Phil.

Phil 'escorted' Jack out, but gave him a blue hoody about his size, and proceeded to shut the door. Jack flew up and attempted to get in, but the window was also locked now. Jack was laughing, happy with the hoody, which was quite comfortable, and this challenge. He chuckled fondly, and said, "This isn't over, Phil. I'll get in the workshop one day."

(Line break, line break, line break)

What was it, 1803? Jack couldn't quite remember, but that's okay. The point is, this is the year he would get into Santa's Workshop. He would impress Santa with his Russian speaking skills. And his Spanish, and Latin, and Swahili...

He'd been really bored. Eve didn't have any kids yet, and it sucked. He kept waiting, but nada. See? Spanish!

Jack was taking this very seriously. His stomach growled. When was the last time he ate? Eh, it's probably not important. He finished sprinkling up a town in Sweden. Heading north, he smiled at the large workshop he'd tried to penetrate so many times. But this time would be different. Jack had learned a new trick. He could now conjure up dry ice as a fog, a type of distraction.

Jack flew up to it and knocked. Phil answered, and I conjured the dry ice. Phil couldn't see an inch in front of him, and I slipped in easily. Before long, he had a leaf blower and blew away my fog! I groaned. We'd both been steadily coming up with more and elaborate schemes. Where'd he even get a leaf blower?!

Jack had an idea. Why not copy the big guy himself and shimmy down the chimney?

He was halfway down it when it suddenly occurred to him that there might be fire at the bottom. The thought distracted him enough that he slipped and fell.

He screamed as he fell, and landed on something hard. "Ouch!" he yelped. Then he sunk. What? He thought. Was this...oobleck? Yes, it was. He was in a giant tub of oobleck. He was mad, but couldn't help but be impressed at the sheer genius of it. Phil walked up to him, and Jack shrunk back. Of course, he wasn't scared of Phil, but he was sheepish.

"Oof!" he exclaimed as he landed face first in the snow, still covered in oobleck. Despite this, he smiled. "Next time, Phil."

I promise the next one will be longer!