Simon was laughing to himself. If all was going according to plan, the North Pole was a mess, and in just a few hours, Santa would find himself unable to deliver toys and goodwill across the world. He padded through a dark hallway and slammed a wooden door behind him. A cold arctic wind blew against him, so cold and strong that it chilled him to his bones.
Cad and Veronica ran up to him, shaking off a flurry of snow as they did. Their eyes were big and their bodies were rigid. Simon didn't notice, instead continuing to laugh. He opened his mouth to speak, however Cad was faster.
"Bad news, boss."
"Really bad," Veronica clarified.
Simon's confidence slipped out of him. His lips curled in a snarl and he demanded, "What? Don't say Underdog has come to stop me!"
Cad and Veronica glanced at eachother, then stared down at Simon silently. For a moment, Simon found himself angry at their non-response... then he realized what that meant, and felt a bolt of fear strike his heart.
He clutched his chest and turned his eyes to the ground. He had to think of something, fast. Anything to keep Underdog from stopping him.
No thoughts came to him as he stared at the blank, white snow. Simon lifted his head, looking frantically for anything that might give him an idea. The wind whipped blurry snowflakes all about, obscuring most objects.
Most... except for one. The wind settled for a moment, a moment just long enough for Simon to catch sight of the reindeer round-pen. His chuckle overtook him again.
"There!" he exclaimed, and began to stomp over. The wind tried its best to bowl him over, the ice crystals cutting into his flesh. In his determination, he made it to the reindeer's fence. His teeth clattering all the while, he explained: "We will send Underdog on a wild goose chase! While he's chasing these deer all across the Arctic, we will take over the North Pole by force! I made all those elves in there agree that Santa was no good leader, I'm certain that they'll readily help me take him down."
"But, boss!" Cad countered, "What if Underdog is in there right now, setting everything right again?"
Simon considered this. He shoved his hands in his pockets in a vain attempt to keep his warmth and turned back to face the workshop. Unfortunately, the snow was too thick and the window was too frosty for him to make out anything inside. He shivered, and turned back to the fence with a scoff.
"No matter. Even if he is, he won't be around for my takeover. Now, to find the gate..."
The fence was a thin black line under the fog of the snow, the caribou nothing more than void-like blobs. It seemed to stretch on forever this way, until one movement became visible. Simon only realized it was different because it was outside of the fence—and was a tall blue.
Simon began to pad in that direction, the snow clogging his every footstep. He breathed heavily as the environment fought against him. Still, he carried a fiery determination, and used it to get nearer and nearer to the blue shape. Until, finally, he got close enough to make it out as that of an elf. It seemed to be tending to the reindeer.
"Simon says," he announced, bringing up a quivering finger to point out the form, "Take it down!"
Cad hesitated for just a moment, but then rushed at the elf with a growl in his throat. The storm settled just enough to let Simon watch. The elf had crumbled into the snow, a little pile of blue. The wind buffeted her outfit, and she sobbed into her hands. An aluminum tray and pile of candy canes had been flung into a snowdrift.
"Simon says," he commanded, stepping over the obstacle, "Smash in the lock!"
Cad reeled back and kicked it. Immediately, the lock snapped open and disappeared into the snow beneath the post. The gate squealed open, pushed by the wind until it slammed into its barrier.
Simon laughed, "Now go in there and scare them out!"
Again, Cad paused, but ultimately, did as his boss demanded. Veronica followed a moment later, and the two began shouting and slapping the reindeer's hides until the creatures spooked. The panic quickly spread until the reindeer began to bleat and grumble at eachother, then they kicked up the snow and shoved past eachother until they had escaped the pen they were caged in. Simon laughed as they ran, most kicking off the ground and flying into the air almost as soon as they escaped.
Even while wrapped in the flurries and fur, Simon could hear the smashing of wood. His ears swiveled to find its source before his eyes did. Finally, he squinted through the reindeer's legs in the direction of the workshop.
Just barely, he could make out a flash of red. Simon knew in a moment it must be Underdog. He couldn't hold back the laugh that shot through his frigid form.
"IF YOU WANT TO SAVE YOUR CHRISTMAS," he shouted at the hero, "SIMON SAYS: COME AND GET ME!"
Santa's workshop was all hustle and bustle. The elves were all working together to unravel their mischief. Underdog flew around, standing desks up and stringing up the displaced tinsel in only a matter of seconds. Polly scooped piles of toy parts from the floor and onto the righted tables, and the elves sent them down the line to be rebuilt. Underdog caught Polly's eye—she smiled up at him. Underdog felt his heart soar, and believed, for a moment, everything might be alright.
Until, of course, an elf spoke up.
"Um, boss?!" it stated frantically. It pulled on Santa's coat until he turned around, then pulled him toward a table that had yet to be put back on its legs.
There, in the middle of the workshop floor was a reindeer—little Vixie. She nibbled on the table's leg, and bleated as she realized that eyes were steadily turning to her. Underdog and Polly rushed to her side.
"What are you doing here?" Polly asked gently, though her voice was light with shock. Vixie raised her head and nuzzled her stomach to demand some affection.
Santa stammered, his voice coming quick and frantic. "If she is here," he exclaimed, "Then that means that the reindeer have been let out of the stables!"
Underdog jumped, but before Santa could continue, he flew to the back door of the workshop. The wood cracked and splintered, groaning at his force. A cold arctic wind blew against him, so cold and intense that it chilled Underdog to his bones.
He held up his arm to shield himself from the snowstorm. Several yards in front of him, he saw the reindeer. They had escaped their fenced-in enclosure and were flying and fleeing in all directions—and there were far more than just nine. Underdog heard a clamor behind him, but ignored it. Instead, he focused his eyes on the scene.
Peeking between the reindeer's legs and the snow falling all about, Underdog could just make out a blur of red-and-green. Part of him wanted to believe it was just another set of naughty elves, but something in his gut flared with anger. The reindeer continued to run, eventually thinning out enough to give him a clearer image.
Sure enough, clad in full elf attire, he could make out the meager shape of Simon Barsinister, flanked on either side by Cad Lackey and Veronica Magus. He struck his arms out and shouted at the hero, taunting him.
"IF YOU WANT TO SAVE YOUR CHRISTMAS—SIMON SAYS: COME AND GET ME!"
Underdog took a hasty step forward, ready to do just that. However, a hand came down on his shoulder and he was held back. He was more confused at the action than anything, but when he looked back, he found that it was Polly holding him. The Clauses and a horde of elves behind her. Confusion bubbled up inside the hero, but he stayed put. When Underdog turned back to the snowy landscape in front of him, he saw that the reindeer had long gone off, and the villains were running—all three in different directions.
Underdog ripped his shoulder out of Polly's grasp, the force of his step sending him into the air. He turned to address her and all the creatures behind her, "Why would you stop me when he is so near?" he demanded, "Now he can only make things more severe!"
Polly responded just as loudly, latching the hand that had stopped Underdog onto her arm. "You can catch Simon, but if we don't find the reindeer, it means that Christmas really will be ruined!"
Underdog drifted backwards, surprised at the force of her reaction. Even Polly seemed to be, her breath was coming out in ragged white clouds. Then, she sniffed and stood up straight, a determined smile splitting her face and a gleam in her eye.
"Whatever you do, we'll need a plan," she said with a confident nod.
All of Underdog's annoyance flowed out of him when he saw Polly's face. Admiring her resolve, Underdog nodded back at her. "Whatever you do, that Simon is mine. What part would you have be assigned?"
Polly rose a finger to her mouth, turning down to the ground as she thought. Behind her, the crowd of elves squeaked and shoved eachother as one struggled its way to the front. Then, Rocket's pale face popped up beside her. "A lot of those deer went toward the town," she said quickly, "So did your cat's red friend. I'll go after them. The elves down there will help me gather the team."
Underdog nodded at her, and stepped aside so that she could head in that direction. Before she moved, however, the crowd rustled again as two more elves emerged. It was the purple one who had been the first to fall to Simon's schemes, with her orange friend behind her. She grabbed Rocket's hands and fixed her with a resolute expression. "Me and Nick will help you," she stated coolly, "It's all I can do to fix what I did."
Rocket scoffed at her, and cast her gaze to the orange elf that followed her. He sighed, his face beginning to glow slightly. "The things I do for you, Noel."
Without another disturbance, the three elves scampered out of the warmth of the workshop and into the snowdrifts outside. Before they could disappear completely, however, they paused in front of the gate. Together, the three of them pulled up another elf, who had been buried within the flurries made by both the reindeer and the wind. It was the tall blue one from the bakery, Merry-Bright.
As soon as she stood, the three elves disappeared into the snowstorm, and the baker made her way toward the door of the workshop. She walked in without acknowledging Underdog or anyone else, sniffling and holding her bruised nose as she did. The crowd parted wordlessly to let her through without disturbance.
As the blue elf retreated, another came out. This time, however, it was no elf. Huffing and snorting and stomping her hooves against the hardwood, Little Vixie shoved through the crowd until she stood at Polly's side. She pushed her nose against Polly's hip, making her stumble slightly.
Polly laughed and scratched her head. "I suppose she wants to help."
Mrs. Claus drifted up to them, leaning down and placing her ghostly hand upon Polly's shoulder. "I made that big one a stablehand. I suppose that she wants revenge on him for making her sick."
Polly's eyes widened. That statement was enough for her to want revenge on Cad, too. Vixie nuzzled and nudged at Polly, nipping at her heels until she stumbled in the snow. Underdog caught her in his arms. She snorted as she turned around, not wholly sharing the calf's playful spirit. However, when looking down at the reindeer, it was obvious that her actions were not playful. Vixie pawed at the ground, and positioned her body sideways toward Polly. She pointed at her back with her muzzle.
Polly stared at her blankly.
Vixie motioned to her back again, slightly more agitated.
Santa sauntered up to the calf, crouching down to address her directly. He scratched her neck gently. "Darling, you are only a little reindeer. You cannot expect to carry an entire Earthly woman upon your back!"
Mrs. Claus let out a solemn chuckle behind him. "Let her try," she said, "When her mother was a yearling, she could carry two elves at once."
Underdog shared Santa's skepticism, but Polly was as ready as Vixie was.
Polly began to wriggle free, so Underdog let her go. But before she could step away completely, he leaned forward to whisper to her. "Do you still have the bell?" he asked, "To lose you in the Arctic would make me unwell."
Polly turned back for a brief moment to give him a thumbs up. "You won't lose me in the Arctic," she beamed.
Still, Underdog ran his thumb along the back of her hand before he let her go completely. Polly immediately stepped up to Vixie, carefully mounting her as one would a horse. Vixie groaned as the great weight settled atop her, her little legs quivering. Regardless, she snorted and took a rough step forward. Polly yipped, her hands clutching tightly into the fur on her ruff. The action had nearly knocked Polly off, but Vixie continued. After one more heavy step, the little reindeer pushed off the ground until she floated in the air.
Polly yelped again, holding on tight as Vixie flew away, kicking up a cloud of snowflakes in her wake. Underdog was left with the Clauses and the crowd of elves. He avoided their hot gazes, staring down into the snow and balling his hands into tight fists.
He kicked up off the ground and began to float, facing the crowd with a snarl on his face.
"Do what you can to recover the shop," he commanded, fixing Santa with a courageous look. "I'll do everything in my power to make sure Simon is stopped."
Waiting only for Santa's agreement—a single nod, and a goodbye-wave—Underdog turned around and rushed into the heart of the blizzard.
Simon didn't know how long—or how far—he had been running. He hoped that it had been quite the distance, as he could no longer see his partners, the reindeer, or the glow of the workshop behind him. On the other hand, he...
He stumbled on a snowdrift, catching himself with his hands on his knees. He paused in a futile attempt to catch his breath.
He hadn't left his sleigh this far out, had he?
Simon gulped and blinked up, though he continued to pant desperately. Forget seeing his partners or the workshop, Simon couldn't see anything around him. The landscape was a vast expanse of white. It was flat in some places and grew into small hills in others. It didn't matter either way—it was difficult for Simon to see more than ten feet in front of his face. Alongside that, the sky was a stormy, neutral gray along the horizon.
Then, Simon heard a crunch. He spared a moment's glance behind him. Barely, glowing through the misty wind like a veritable Rudolph, he could make out a soft red glow.
Simon sucked in a breath through his nose and kept running. Snowflakes and hailstones cut against his skin, the arctic wind nearly bowled him over, and the cold pierced straight through his bones like metal. The elf costume he wore had been warm enough when he was within the workshop, but while running through an ice shelf it felt worse than nothing. The wind lifted it off his stomach and onto his back, and the snow only clung to the scratchy fabric and made him colder.
Simon stumbled again. As he kept running, he found that the snow had become less and less pliant the further he went from the workshop. More ice gathered on its surface and weaved within the snow like layers of wafer and nougat. Simon's feet crunched though another chunk of ice. He slipped on it and fell to the ground. His hands, just like his feet, slipped on the surface until he held himself up by his forearms.
For a moment, he laid there.
His head was pounding, and for just a moment, the black behind his eyes was darker than he had ever seen it. The cold sunk deeper into his bony fingers, encased his clothing, coated his whiskers—but... somehow, he had started to feel warm. A noise like an ethereal ring pulsed through his ears.
Was he dying?
No— he willed himself. If he died before he ruled the world, he'd never let himself live it down.
Still, Simon found it difficult to move. He gasped for air desperately, but he only swallowed the snowflakes that rushed around him. They pierced the innards of his lungs as sharply as anything else that flew within the blizzard.
Then, he heard another crunch.
A primal part of him said bear. However, his mind won—it had to be Underdog. Either way, the noise was enough for him to gather his strength. It was just the right amount to lift his head and flip onto his back—Simon could do no more than that. The wind blowing against his back instead of his front was a welcome change. He had almost made a lee within his own body; the cloud of his breath almost warmed up his face.
Glancing up, it was still difficult for Simon to see. He could barely make out something approaching him—it was tall, clad in red, and had a foggy expanse of blue streaming behind it.
Underdog stepped closer, becoming more and more visible. The wind whipped his ears and cape behind him. It was a wonder those floppy things attached to his head weren't slapping him in the face. In fact, Simon almost thought his face was shadowed, yet both of his eyes almost glowed like Christmas lights.
Closer still he came, but Simon's strength was gone. He could run further—but his body was holding him back. As the hero approached he only became clearer. The wind seemed to stop beating Simon's back so relentlessly.
Finally, Underdog stood in front of him. The wind had died—but the landscape was just as foggy as it ever had been. A flare of energy shocked Simon's form. He wanted to get up—he wanted to circle back—he wanted to take over! Even despite the adrenaline that flowed through him, the desire to sink his claws into Underdog's flesh that overwhelmed him, the need to kick his knees out—!
Simon couldn't do much more than flinch and cover his head with his arms to prepare for the punches.
He waited. However, none came. He waited some more, shivering now with both fear and cold. Still, no violence came upon him.
The bastard! Simon thought to himself. That hero of heroes was waiting for Simon to quit protecting himself, to land a defenseless blow right into the bridge of his muzzle! If that was the game that Underdog wanted to play, then sobeit!
Simon threw his arms down and readied himself to kick at Underdog when he moved. However, Underdog... didn't.
Underdog hadn't even gotten into a fighting stance. He stood as rigidly as he always did, with one hand swinging by his side and the other...
..extended down to help Simon up.
Simon's eyes trailed the hero's arm all the way up to his face. Underdog held no expression, or at least, none that was unusual. His face was dark—his eyebrows were furrowed into something closer to annoyance than anger, his eyes were half lidded, and his mouth was in such a neutral line that it almost disappeared into his fur.
Simon did not want to accept his offer.
...he wanted to sit around in the cold even less.