It had been fifteen years since the Great Gumdrop War (GGW), and all was quiet on the western front. The rays of the setting sun reflected on the snow, causing the elves of the 5th Magical Battalion to be none more than rather short silhouettes across the sky. The bitter arctic wind picked up the snow in tiny wisps that danced across the frozen plains, striking the faces of the elves like punches from Muhammad Ali, combined with kisses from your bearded Aunt Lucy. In was, in short, a rather odd feeling for the elves of the 5th Magical.
The 5th was elite unit among elite units. You could tell this at a glance because they wore sunglasses, and they wore tactical gear that was emblazoned with buttons and stenciled-in phrases like, “Show me your tinsel”. Some of the more peaceable elves, namely those who worked administrative positions in Santa’s workshop found the language of the 5th to be rather uncouth and unfit for society, but one should know that soldiers are on friendlier terms with their stomachs and other intestines, and those very intestines give him the ability to express his greatest joy, as well as his greatest indignation. In more layman’s terms, they enjoyed swearing and using explicit language because there was no better way to express themselves than the occasional, “Well, Sassafras!” These profanity-loving, sunglasses-wearing, elves of the 5th Magical Battalion, “Kilo” Company” were on routine patrol on the edge of the Candy Cane Forest, before it gave way to the wide, sweeping void of the Sugar Plains. Their point, man, Cpl. Cutie-Doll, raised his fist, signaling the rest of Kilo Company to halt. Cutie-Doll gave the “get down” signal by thrusting his hips three times. As the company went to the prone or kneeling position, the company commander, Lt. Pudding-Flop made his way to Cutie-Doll.
“What do we have, Cutie?” The Lieutenant asked.
“Polar bear, sir.”
Lt. Pudding-Flop pulled out his binoculars and focused in on the polar bear trotting across the Sugar Plains. After a moment, he pulled them from eyes, cursing.
“Sniklefitz, it’s a Lisa Frank bear.”
Cutie-Doll looked at him in alarm.
“Are you sure, sir?”
Cutie-Doll pulled out his own binoculars and looked at the bear. Pudding-Flop did the same.
“See the rainbow force field around it?” Pudding-Flop said to the Corporeal.
“Finkleron! You think there’s any unicorns around too?” asked Cutie-Doll.
“Christmas Spirit, I hope not.” Lt. Pudding-Flop put away his binoculars and began to slide backwards towards the rest of the unit. “Keep watch on that bear, Cutie”
“Yes sir”
Lt. Pudding-Flop made his way back to where the other elves were hiding, magic staffs, grenade launchers, and SCAR rifles at the ready.
“Listen up, we have a Lisa Frank polar bear in the area.” He whispered to them. “Sgt. Lucky-Butter, take three with you and recon up ahead to see if the bear is on his own, or if he has friends.”
Sgt. Lucky Butter motioned for the three closest elves to follow him, and they scrambled off at a low trot. The Lieutenant continued,
“Pvt. Fuzzy-Fairy, get on comms and see if we can get cleared to engage the bear on sight”.
Pvt. Fuzzy-Fairy pulled an antenna out of his pack and began hailing the Elf Army HQ.
“Red Jester, this is Snowdrop, over.”
Fuzzy-Fairy waited, but there was nothing but static in response.
“Red Jester, this is Snowdrop, over.”
Once again, there was no response. Lt. Pudding-Flop listened intently to hear if there was any response, but none came.
“Keep trying.” The Lieutenant told Fuzzy-Fairy. Suddenly, Pudding-Flop’s headset crackled to life as Sgt. Lucky-Butter’s voice came over the radio.
“Pudding-Flop, this is Lucky-Butter. We have visual contact with a unicorn and four Dalmatians, how copy, over.”
Pudding-Flop keyed his microphone.
“Good copy, one unicorn, four Dalmatians, over.”
These were odds that Pudding-Flop did not want to hear. He had to think, and think fast. He turned to Fuzzy-Fairy and asked,
“Private, do we have contact with Red Jester?”
Fuzzy-Fairy shook his head.
“No, sir”
Lt. Pudding-Flop tapped another Private named Greg, who toted an M32 semi-auto grenade launcher.
“Greg,” he said, “I need you to stay here with Cpl. Cutie-Doll and keep an eye on that bear. If we take contact, blow him to Viti.”
Greg responded with a sharp “yes sir” and joined Cutie-Doll in his watch. Lt. Pudding-Flop signaled for the rest of Kilo Company to fall in on him.
“Okay Kilo Company, we’ve got a unicorn and four Dalmatians just ahead. We’re going up the path to join Sgt. Lucky-Butter. Cpl. Cutie-Doll and Pvt. Greg will stand overwatch on the bear. We’ll travel in line formation, then fall into a battle line as soon as we make contact with Sgt. Lucky-Butter.”
The elves of Kilo Company moved swiftly and silently into a line, each covering his area, keeping distance perfectly. As soon as they saw Sgt. Lucky-Butter and his recon patrol, they fell into a line, ready to gun down, spellbind, or just generally turn someone into a fudge popsicle. Unseen by them, there was a Narwhale flying below radar, his horn glowing as he prepared the magic for attack. He was a mere speck on the horizon, but was closing in fast. Suddenly, the Narwhale went from tiny speck on the horizon to very large flying whale. A rainbow shot from the Narwhale’s horn, surrounded by glistening stars, and it seemed as if the purple line of the rainbow had been bedazzled by an over caffeinated five year-old. A large explosion was heard in the direction of the Lollipop mines, and the sky was filled with a flash of tie-dye.
“Contact!” Screamed Pudding-Flop as he keyed his radio, “Greg, light up the bear!”
In the distance, the thump of the M32 firing was heard, but the explosion of the grenade was drowned out by the roar of rifles firing at the Unicorn attempting to charge his horn’s magic. The elves with magical staffs began muttering incantations, casting protective spells on their comrades. One staff-wielding elf began muttering a different incantation than the rest, and suddenly one of the assault rifles began firing flaming bullets at the unicorn.
The unicorn did not take kindly to having bullets, flaming or otherwise shot at it, so as soon as the magic was fully charged, he fired a rainbow beam at the elves, sending a blast of snow, candy canes, and the bits of two elves skyward. The Dalmatians ran forwards to attack, but were met with a flame shield that stopped them in their tracks. The unicorn kept firing from his horn, and the Narwhale was looping back around to begin strafing runs on the elves. The elves of the 5th Magical Battalion were in dire straits. No way to contact HQ, under heavy fire, and losing men right and slightly more to the right. Lt. Pudding Flop turned to see Cutie-Doll and Greg running to join the rest of the elves.
“What about the bear?” asked Pudding-Flop.
“He’s a gummy bear, sir.” replied Greg.
“Alright then, get on the line and see if you can do the same to that unicorn.”
Greg scrambled off, followed by Cutie-Doll. The Narwhale grew larger in the horizon, horn glowing with devastating, bedazzled magic. Pudding-Flop stared at it, knowing that if it began a strafing run, Kilo Company would be but a tragic tale in a pop-up history book. Greg launched two rounds out into the Sugar Plains, sending a Dalmatian into Oblivion. Flaming bullets sent another into a magical puff of smoke. The unicorn was slowly faltering due to being pelted with thousands of rounds from magic-infused SCAR rifles. But the Narwhale was still growing ever closer, horn about to unleash a fury like no other. Greg suddenly ran from cover and into the open expanse of the Sugar Plains. He stopped and knelt, shouldering the M32, lifting the muzzle high in the air. The unicorn turned his horn on Greg, a swirling rainbow was building up, ready to fire. Three rounds burst from the M32, sailing into the air high above the battle. Greg turned to run back to cover, but was too late, as the unicorn’s horn released its shimmering rainbow of death. But the three rounds Greg fired were not in vain. Greg was, in fact, an expert with the M32, and had timed the rounds to connect with the flight of the Narwhale. And connect they did. Bits of blubber rained down on Kilo Company as the Narwhale met his very timely demise. After that, the unicorn and remaining Dalmatians were short work, as they were quickly overpowered by the over nine-thousand fireballs that came their way.
The wind picked up the snow in small wisps that stung the faces of the 5th Magical Battalion, Kilo Company as they walked back towards the North Pole. The smoking ruins of a Lollipop mine gave contrast to the vibrant hues of purple, pink, and red of the setting sun. The elves in Santa’s workshop may disapprove of the language of the 5th Magical, but they are not as friendly with their stomachs as the elves of war. For the stomach gives a soldier words to express his greatest joy, as well as his greatest indignation.
“Well Sassafras!”
J Alan Davidson is an actor, comedian, and writer. You can follow him on Twitter @JAlanDavidson