Elfie On A Selfie Mystery

Dasher Is Missing!

Chapter 1 

"Where's Dasher?"

"Where's Dasher?" Santa bellowed, pacing back and forth across the workshop. The elves stood frozen like Christmas decorations, unsure if they should speak or just melt into the walls.

Elfie, leaning against one of the toy conveyor belts, sighed dramatically, inspecting his perfectly manicured nails. "Well, this is awkward," he muttered, just loud enough for the room to hear. "We’ve got a missing reindeer, and all these elves can do is stare like they’ve seen a ghost. Have none of you heard of searching before? It’s this cool thing where you use your legs."

"Elfie!" Santa turned toward him, rubbing his temples. "This is serious. Dasher is missing, and we need to find him before Christmas Eve!"

"Missing, huh? Did anyone check if he’s just hiding from the insane workload you’ve got us under? A reindeer needs his time off, Santa. Even you can’t argue with that."

Mrs. Claus stepped in, handing Santa a mug of joe. "Now, now, Elfie. We all need to pull together. We can’t have Christmas without Dasher."

"Oh no, the horror," Elfie deadpanned, rolling his eyes. "Christmas ruined because Dasher decided to take a stroll. What will the children do without that one specific reindeer pulling the sleigh?"

Santa glared at him. "Elfie, this is no time for sarcasm. We need your help."

"Of course you do," Elfie smirked, standing up straight and brushing off his coat. "Lucky for you, I’m the brains of this operation. Let me grab my torch and start the search. I’ll try not to make it too obvious that I’m the only one thinking around here."

The other elves muttered under their breath, but no one dared argue with Elfie. His wit was sharper than any candy cane sword, and they knew better than to challenge him.

Chapter 2: 

The Hunt Begins

Elfie walked out of the workshop, swinging his torch in one hand and holding his phone in the other. He paused outside the stable, pointing the light around dramatically.

"Dasher!" he called out, his voice dripping with mock enthusiasm. "Where are you, buddy? Please don’t make me run or, heaven forbid, break a sweat."

Behind him, an elf named Jingle hurried to catch up. "You really think you’ll find him like that?"

Elfie turned his head slightly, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, sorry. Did you have a better idea? Maybe a Christmas carol to lure him out? Or maybe we should send up a bat signal. You know, for reindeer."

"Okay, okay, I get it," Jingle muttered, rolling his eyes. "I was just asking."

Elfie laughed lightly. "Relax, Jingle. I’m just warming up. Trust me, I’ve got this. It’s not like Dasher can blend into the snow or anything. He’s a 500-pound, jingle-bell-wearing reindeer. It’s like losing a marching band."

They continued along the snow-covered path toward the forest. The North Pole was eerily quiet tonight, the only sound being their footsteps crunching in the snow.

"Is it me, or is it a little too silent tonight?" Jingle asked, his voice shaky.

"Oh no, it’s definitely you," Elfie quipped. "Unless the wind has a Twitter account and decided to take a break from blowing."

Jingle frowned. "I just have a bad feeling about this. Reindeer don’t just go missing."

"Yeah, well, nothing gets past you, does it?" Elfie chuckled, shining his torch up at the trees. "But Dasher’s probably just wandering around. You know, maybe he’s checking out the Northern Lights. Classic Dasher move."

Suddenly, there was a rustling sound up ahead, causing both elves to stop in their tracks. Elfie’s torch flickered slightly, illuminating the dark woods.

"Did you hear that?" Jingle whispered.

"No, I just stopped for the drama of it all," Elfie replied sarcastically, turning the torch toward the noise. "Of course I heard it. Now let’s see what’s making all that racket."

Chapter 3: 

The Clue in the Snow

They approached the bushes cautiously, Elfie leading the way with his torch raised. The rustling grew louder, and Jingle’s face turned pale.

"I swear, if it’s a polar bear, I’m out," Jingle whispered.

"Don’t be ridiculous," Elfie said, rolling his eyes. "If it’s a bear, I’ll just tell it a joke and make it laugh itself to death. We’ll be fine."

As they reached the source of the noise, Elfie parted the bushes with one hand, the torch revealing... nothing.

"Oh great, the wind has decided to go live," Elfie muttered, disappointed. "All that hype for nothing."

But then Jingle spotted something. "Wait, look!" He pointed to the snow-covered ground. There, imprinted in the snow, were large hoofprints leading deeper into the forest.

Elfie crouched down, examining the tracks. "Well, well, well. Looks like Dasher really did make a run for it."Jingle’s eyes widened. "What do we do now?"

Elfie stood up, brushing the snow off his hands. "We follow the tracks, genius. Unless you have a better idea, like singing ‘Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer’ in hopes of summoning him back."

Jingle huffed but didn’t argue. They followed the tracks through the forest, the trees casting long, eerie shadows in the torchlight. Every now and then, Jingle would jump at the sound of branches snapping underfoot.

"Maybe we should go back and tell Santa," Jingle suggested nervously. "You know, in case something happens."

Elfie stopped, turning to face him. "You mean in case you wet your elf-sized trousers? We’re already out here, Jingle. Do you think Dasher’s going to waltz back into the stable by himself? Besides, if we leave, we’ll miss out on the adventure. And I, for one, don’t want to miss the chance to say ‘I told you so’ when I find him."

Jingle groaned but kept walking. "Fine, but if anything jumps out at us, I’m blaming you."

"You’re welcome," Elfie said with a smirk, marching ahead as the hoofprints continued to lead them deeper into the unknown.

Chapter 4: 

Games Night, Interrupted

As the hoofprints seemed to stretch endlessly into q dark woods, Jingle let out a frustrated sigh. "This is taking forever, Elfie. I’m freezing out here!"

"Quit your whining," Elfie said, though a grin spread across his face. "Besides, you’re lucky I didn’t have my nightly games to host tonight, or you’d be on your own chasing Dasher."

Jingle blinked. "Games? Like… elf games?"

Elfie stopped walking and spun around dramatically. "Oh, Jingle, do you really think all we elves do is hammer toys and bake cookies from 9 to 5? Contrary to popular belief, we have lives. Big ones. Massive."

Jingle stared at him, confused.

"We compete, Jingle," Elfie explained, holding up a finger like a professor giving a lecture. "And not just in any boring ol' games. We’ve got Triviaingo, a highly competitive hybrid of trivia and bingo. Then there’s Musical Chairs, which is basically a gladiatorial sport, and Simon Says… don’t even get me started on how brutal that can get."

"Wait, wait," Jingle interrupted, raising a hand. "You’re telling me you host games? And elves play them… like, competitively?"

"With cutthroat precision," Elfie said, eyes twinkling. "You should see Blitzen’s moves in Simon Says. Last year, he got half the workshop disqualified just by standing perfectly still. It’s like art, really."

"I always thought elves just… you know… worked and then slept," Jingle muttered.

"Oh, you poor naive soul." Elfie shook his head in pity. "That’s just the human version of us. You think after 9 to 5 we just shut down like toy-making robots? No, my friend, elves love their games. You’ve got Triviaingo, where every time you answer a trivia question correctly, you get to cross off a square on your bingo card. And you wouldn’t believe the kind of dirty looks you get when you call ‘bingo’ first."

"And you host these games?" Jingle asked, incredulous.

Elfie winked. "Of course I do. Who else could handle such a position with the right amount of flair, sarcasm, and wit? But tonight, I had to put it on hold because, you know, someone misplaced a very large, very important reindeer."

"So the whole North Pole's game night is cancelled just because we have to find Dasher?" Jingle sounded like he'd just uncovered the scandal of the century.

Elfie laughed. "Cancelled? Hardly. They’re still playing. I just sent Blitzen to fill in for me. He’s decent with the mic, but his sarcasm is rusty. Still, a missing reindeer trumps everything. The games can wait."

Jingle raised an eyebrow. "And if we don’t find Dasher by morning?"

"Then the elves will riot," Elfie said matter-of-factly. "Not over Christmas being ruined, mind you. They’ll riot because they missed out on the finals of Simon Says. Now that’s a warzone you don’t want to be in."

Jingle opened his mouth to respond, but a sudden crack echoed from up ahead. Both elves froze, their eyes darting toward the sound.

"Please tell me that was a snowman sneezing," Jingle whispered.

Elfie narrowed his eyes, holding his torch up higher. "I don’t think snowmen sneeze, Jingle."

Another crack, closer this time.

"Okay, this is definitely not part of the games," Jingle muttered, his voice trembling. "Maybe we should—"

Before he could finish, a large shadow moved in the distance, and Elfie caught a glimpse of something furry disappearing behind the trees.

Chapter 5: 

Dasher’s Footsteps?

Elfie grinned. "There you are, you sneaky little reindeer. I knew you couldn't resist a dramatic entrance."

"Are you sure it’s him?" Jingle asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Elfie shrugged. "Well, it’s either Dasher or the Abominable Snowman. In which case, we’re going to need a lot more than sarcasm."

"Elfie…"

"I’m kidding. Mostly." Elfie motioned with his torch. "Let’s go before he decides to run off again."

They continued forward, the hoofprints in the snow now more pronounced. Jingle clutched his scarf, glancing nervously around. "You know, I wouldn’t mind going back to Triviaingo right now. Seems a lot less terrifying."

"That’s because you’ve never seen Bubbles in a trivia standoff," Elfie quipped, pushing forward with renewed determination. "That elf knows everything, and I mean everything. It’s honestly disturbing. Makes the game feel like life or death sometimes."

Jingle groaned. "I just don’t get why elves are so obsessed with games."

"Games are serious business here," Elfie said with a smirk. "It’s the one place where we can all unwind, let loose, and talk trash. Honestly, without them, the whole North Pole would fall into chaos by January."

"So games keep us sane?"

"Games keep us alive," Elfie corrected. "Well, that and the competitive spirit. Have you ever seen an elf run to grab the last seat in Musical Chairs? It’s like watching Santa take off for his sleigh—pure speed and terror."

They emerged into a small clearing, and there, standing near a snow-covered tree, was Dasher, looking as nonchalant as a 500-pound reindeer could.

"There he is!" Jingle gasped.

"Well, look who decided to make an appearance," Elfie said, arms crossed. "You’ve been dragging us through the snow while everyone else is back at the North Pole battling it out in Simon Says. You owe me a very good excuse, Dasher."

Dasher snorted, stamping his hoof in the snow.

"Yeah, yeah, I get it," Elfie said, patting him on the side. "You wanted a little adventure of your own. But next time, try not to cause a holiday-wide panic. I have games to host, and now I’ll never know if Blitzen’s sarcasm made it through the night.

The End