"Santa Claus?" Vanellope mumbled, throwing on a blanket to keep warm. "Who in the arcade world is Santa Claus?"
The three elves looked positively furious. "You don't know who Santa Claus is?" Tom asked, fuming with rage. "How dare you?"
"I know who Santa Claus is," Witchy murmured. "Old St. Nick is a jolly old fat man dressed in red and white and sneaks into everybody's houses on Christmas day so he can deliver his oh so precious toys his oh so precious elves made and send off his oh so precious joy and happiness everywhere. Isn't it oh so precious?"
The three elves were dumbstruck. "H-How do you know that?" Tom asked. Witchy shrugged.
"You know, for someone who claims to not be a fan of Christmas, you sure seem to know quite a bit about it," Vanellope mused. Witchy stared at her before brushing her long black hair.
"Wait a tick, how do you make an arcade game based solely on that?" Rancis asked. "That sounds pretty boring."
"That's because that isn't what happens in our game," Tom revealed. "This game is a little more epic than that."
Vanellope was intrigued. "What happens in your game?" She asked. Tom finally cracked a smile.
"Here, Fannar has sent off a blizzard to keep him from getting across the world to deliver all his presents," He revealed. "And St. Nick has to stop him and the blizzard, along with these two orphaned kids you see here." He pointed at Willow and Wynter.
"Who's Fannar?" Taffyta asked. The third elf leaned in closer. "Fannar is Santa's big brother. He's an ice sorcerer and conjurer who lives in the tallest peaks of the ice mountains. He creates ice blizzards at will. But even though he is just an arcade villain, it appears he just went bad. He's evil even during after-game hours."
"How do you know?" Licorice inquired.
"Who else has been sending off these darn blizzards all day," Tom answered. "We've only been plugged in an hour, and already he's sent a dozen snow storms to wreak havoc on the place. And quite a lot has been blowing some poor elf or reindeer into the ice regions."
All five racers gasped. Wynter, who was sitting next to Willow, finally turned his head to stare at them, but Willow continued to stare at the wall.
"D-Does that mean that Candlehead was…" Taffyta couldn't finish.
"Oh, that was her name," Tom mumbled. "Yes, we saw her get taken off by the blizzard and into the snowy ice regions of this game. With the exception of Willow and Wynter, nobody who has gone there has come back. I'm afraid to say that little Candlehead may be yeti spaghetti."
Taffyta felt like she had been punched in the face. "But she's my best friend," She whimpered. Tom shrugged apathetically. "I'm sorry miss, but if you die outside your game you won't regenerate. And unless Candlehead is a tough milk and cookie, she's doomed as long as she's out there with Fannar, and the wolves, and the frost-bites…"
"That's enough, Tom!" A young voice shouted. Every voice snapped around. It was Willow. She was standing on her feet, her arms at her sides, fists clenched.
Tom froze. Willow took several icy steps towards the three elves and yanked Tom up by the beard. Her shiny blue eyes stared right into his.
"I went into that icy region, and so did little Wynter," She reminded. "We were stuck out there with the sorcerer, and those wild animals, and the snow monsters, but we came out alive. If two little children can make it into that mountain top and back unharmed, who's to say that these five racers can't either?"
Tom opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. Willow them dropped him onto the ground and, taking Wynter by the arm, she marched towards the five quivering Sugar Rush racers.
"Listen you five, we are going out there, we are going to save little Candlehead, and we are coming back here safe and sound," She ordered. "Anyone have a problem with that?"
Taffyta, Rancis, and Witchy raised their hands.
"Good, now let's get moving," Willow commanded and, still holding Wynter, she kicked open the door and marched outside, followed closely by Vanellope, Rancis, Taffyta, Witchy and Licorice.
"Wait, aren't you going to tell Santa?" Tom asked. "Not a chance, midgets," Willow called back before slamming the door, leaving the three elves alone.
"Oh my, they are doomed," Tom whispered.