When I reached home, Jessica was outside waiting for me.

"You visited Santa, didn't you?" She said.

"Yes," I said. "And he gave me these new miniature sleighs," I said.

"Come inside," Jessica said. I obeyed and scampered in.

Meanwhile, Penniford was also scampering home. Suddenly, someone stuck out his foot and tripped him. It was Punk Rat.

"So, nerd," He said. "I hear you went to the North Pole, huh? Well, you are not telling anyone about that."

"How do you even know?" Penniford snorted.

"I was there," Punk Rat said. "Well, even if you were there, It's not like you can stop me from telling anyone," Penniford said.

"Wake up and smell the cheese, you little fool," Punk Rat sneered. "Nobody's gonna believe a loser like you. And if they did, they would know about Isaac being Santa's son and come after him. You don't want that to happen, do you?"

"N-n-n-no," Penniford stammered. "Good," Punk Rat grinned. He left.

Penniford scampered to my house. He burst in.

"Punk Rat was spying on us and knows we were at the North Pole!" He shrieked.

"What!" I squeaked. "And he's still going to convince mice not to believe in Santa," Penniford added.

Saveanna overheard. "I think he always knew about Santa's existence, but wants to get back at him for something," She said.

"That jerk," I said. "Just because he didn't receive a present he has to resent Santa."

"Benny," A voice said. "I don't think the present he wanted was just a small toy."

We turned around. Isaac came in.

"What do you mean it's not a small toy," I asked.

"Ben, nobody would turn against Santa for not receiving a toy," Isaac said. "Come with me."

I put on my jacket and followed him away. We stopped at Punk Rat's house.

We looked through the window in his room.

Punk Rat was sitting on his bed. He sighed. Then he broke down crying.

"What the heck?" I said. "Why is he crying?"

Punk Rat's father came in. He looked like the adult version of Punk Rat, with grey fur, orange hair, and a yellow shirt.

"Son, are you still crying about the divorce me and your mom had?" He asked.

"Divorce?" I gasped. "I know it was sad when mom and I broke up, I was crying too," Punk Rat's dad said. "But you need to get over it."

"I don't want to get over it," Punk Rat said. His dad sighed and closed the door.

"Of all the holidays of the year, why did they have to divorce on Christmas," Punk Rat sneered. "That was my favorite holiday."

"His parents had a divorce on Christmas?" I gasped.

"Santa, why did you not answer my call?" Punk Rat asked. "I was being nice and all I was asking for was for my parents to get back together."

"The present Punk Rat wanted was for his parents to get back together," I said. "No wonder he hates Christmas."

Punk Rat turned around and looked out the window.

"What the heck are you doing here," Punk Rat asked.

"I think we should leave now," I said. "Good idea," Isaac said. We ran off.