Later that evening, everyone had gone to bed. Clara, feeling very eager, snuck out of her bed, and started to wait if she could possibly catch a glimpse of Santa. She stood behind the massive grandfather clock, then felt something on her back...
It was the cane of her Grandpa Drosselmeyer!
"HEY!" She exclaimed. "HEY GRAMPS, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
"Oh, just gettin' zome fresh air.." Grandpa Drosselmeyer said, STRETCHING HIS LEGS (despite the fact that he previously said he'd had ARTHRITIS) across the clock. "You know, Clara, magical and wonderful zhings can happen on Christmas Eve..."
But Clara didn't quite hear. She jumped up and down, attempting to reach the man who'd gone loopy these past two hours.
"GET DOWN GRANDPA!!! YOU'RE GONNA HURT YOURSE—"
Clara was immediately stopped, as her Grandpa suddenly snapped his fingers.
Instantly, she could feel a tingling sensation in her body.
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!!" Clara exclaimed, until she was almost the size of a toy LEGO person.
The Christmas tree now looked like it could touch the very roof of the house, now that Clara had shrunken to such a small height. Clara screamed even more, running around for some reason, until she ran head-first into the toy train that went around the Christmas tree.
There she lay, slightly unconscious.