Tiny Christmas Page #3

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Yeah.

You saved my life.

You did like my burping!

No...

No, this is not happening.

Okay, not a hugger.

I get it.

I'll send you a thank you note.

Or a pet snake.

[clicks tongue]

Please, no snake!

It's all good.

What is this place?

[gasping in awe]:

Gift heaven.

[Mr. Potkins calls]: Emma!

[gasping in fright]

Emma?

Barkley Farkley?

I thought I heard a noise.

[wind gusting through window]

Hmm.

No more eggnog before bed.

[Elfonso panting in fright]

[yelping and jostling]

[yelping]

Stupid elf!

You never get caught!

That's the first rule

of elf club!

Barkley?

Barkley?

I think I swallowed

a doll head.

[incoming call chimes,

"Jingle Bells" tune]

Chill!

Thank Gumdrops you called!

I'm way out of my league here.

This is worse than

the Frosty Meltdown of '66.

Elfonso, why aren't you

wearing your goggles?

Goggles...

Oh, no!

You need to find

those goggles!

Without them, you can't

unshrink anything!

[Elfonso]:
They must be

in here somewhere.

You're the one who warned us,

once the sun comes up,

Christmas magic goes away,

and they won't even

work anymore!

Stop stressing me out!

Oh no...

Oh, no,

oh, no, oh, no!

I'll call you back.

Where are

those stupid goggles?

[screaming]

Incoming!

Stupid goggles!

[shrunken gifts clattering]

Okay, I went into

my first house,

I zapped the snowglobe,

then that scary guy showed up,

and...

They must still be there!

All right, Elfonso,

time to put on

your big-boy stockings,

and find those goggles.

I just need a little

elf-confidence.

[exhales bravely]

Oh, no...

Oh, no!

I've lost my fourth cousin.

Dad's going to kill me.

My-my stocking!

Where's my stocking?

Down here...

Look down,

beneath the toys.

Getting warmer.

Jackpot.

You can talk?

Is this like a Ghost

of Christmas Past situation?

Look inside!

"To my favorite cuz,

Love, Barkley."

[Barkley in menacing voice]:

What's in the box?

[laughing]

That was good!

So good.

Merry Christmas, cuz.

We're walkie-buds!

Look down,

by the bench!

[Emma groans in frustration]

Aw, so cute.

You look like

a cricket.

A cute, little, angry cricket.

There's nothing cute

about this!

Or crickets.

We're trapped!

[musical fish ornament

activates]

Dashing through the snow

I n a one-horse open sleigh

O'er the fields we go--

Stop! How are you even

a decoration?

--Giddy-up now!

Dashing through the sn--

Stupid fake fish.

We need Dad.

We have to get back

to the house.

Ooh, that's a negative.

Your house is all the away

on the other side of the street.

And at our current

shrunken size,

we're a gazillion miles away.

It would take a week

to walk there.

We don't have a week.

We need the elf's goggles

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