The Christmas Toy Factory Page 2
rich, rich, rich!” Grandfather’s voice echoed in
my head. “Get working, Nephew!”
“Sorry, Petunia,” I muttered as she turned
and walked out.
M
a
y
b
e
I
s
h
o
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l
d
t
a
k
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a
b
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e
a
k
.
W
e
l
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t
h
e
n
,
b
y
e
,
G
!
H
m
m
.
.
.
After Petunia left, I tried concentrating
on my work. I didn’t even look out at the
falling snow
. I was interrupted by the sound
of rodents giggling outside my door.
Suddenly, the door burst open. It was all
of my coworkers.
“
Merry Christmas to you, Merry Christmas to
you, Merry Christmas, dear Geronimo!
”
they squeaked at the top of their
lungs.
I was feeling grumpier and
grumpier. How was I supposed
to get any work done?
Before I had
a chance to
I DON’T HAVE TIME
TO CELEBRATE!
complain, Shorty Tao grabbed my
paw. She dragged me away from
my desk. “Want to help us decorate
the Christmas tree?” she asked.
“How about a little cheesecake?” Ratsy
suggested.
“Or a cup of hot cheddar?”
Patty added.
“Or you could help me hang up the
mistletoe,” Gigi said, winking.
I was beginning to get a rat-sized
headache. I didn’t have time for
Christmas this year. I had too much
work to do!
Right then, everyone broke into
an ear-piercing chorus of “Jingle
Bells.” Now even my fur had a
pounding headache.
Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore.
SHORTY TAO
Ratsy O’Shea
Patty Plumprat
GIGI GOGO
25
E
n
o
o
o
o
o
o
o
u
g
h
!
“Enoooough!” I shrieked.
A deep silence
fell
over the room. Everyone
stared at me, stunned.
“Ahem, I just want everyone to um, go
back to work,” I muttered.
Puzzled, Mouseanna waved a
photo under my nose. It was a
picture of the CHRISTMAS
PARTY
we had last year.
“But, last year, you said you
wished we could have a Christmas party
every day!” she squeaked.
Last year's party
M
o
u
s
e
a
n
n
a
I coughed and thought of Grandfather
William. “Yes, well, I changed my mind,” I
mumbled as I slunk back to my office.
I felt awful. But I had a ton of work to do.
I sat at my desk and started to read a
manuscript. Outside, it was quiet. In
fact, the whole place was quieter
than the Whispering Whiskers
Cemetery .
A horrible thought
occurred to me:Whatif my coworkers
were so mad that they were waiting behind
my office door? When I opened it, they’d
throw moldy mozzarella balls at me!
I peeked out of the door. Everyone was
seated at their desks, working silently.
I felt much better. Well, not that much
better. Everyone did look kind of sad. But at
least I wasn’t going to get hit with rotten cheese.
29
30
It was getting later and later and snowier
and snowier.
I was still up to my snout in work!
Just then, my cousin Trap called.
“Hey, Gerry Berry, what are you still doing
in the office? Get your tail out here! We’re
all waiting for you at the family’s Christmas
Eve dinner!” he yelled.
I shook my head. For some
reason, I couldn’t think of
anything but work, work, work.
“I don’t have time for dinners.
I don’t have time for Christmas.
I’m just too busy,” I muttered, thinking of
Grandfather William taking over the paper.
I DON’T HAVE TIME
FOR CHRISTMAS!
T
r
a
p
A
u
n
t
S
w
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q
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&
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q
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G
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a
My sister, Thea, grabbed the phone.
“Geronimo, don’t give me any of
your lame excuses!” she ordered.
Aunt Sweetfur got on the phone
next. “My dear nephew, Christmas
won’t be the same without
YOU!” she said, sighing.
But I had already made
up my mind. I had to
finish my work, no
32
The snowy night went on.
I worked and worked and
worked until I heard the town’s
clock strike midnight.
I was tired. So very tired. I
wanted to go home and snuggle
up in my bed. But it was like
there was a little workaholic
mouse inside my head. I knew
if I stopped I would never finish
anything!
DING, DONG
Hours later, I finally finished. Now the
only thing left for me to do was to write a
story on the real spirit of Christmas to be
published in the newspaper the next day.
To get some inspiration, I leafed through a
book titled The Story of Santa Claus! But I
was so tired that I fell asleep with my snout
right in the middle of the book. Snore, snore,
snore . . .
SNORE
SNORE
SNORE
SNORE
SNORE
SNORE
SNORE
SNORE
SNORE
SNORE
SNORE
SNORE
SNORE
ccording to ancient
legend, Santa Claus lives
in Rovaniemi, Finland.
His house, however, is located
in a secret and very isolated
place called Korvatunturi. In
Finnish, Korvatunturi means
“Ear Mountain” because it’s
shaped like two big bunny ears.
It’s from there that Santa can
hear everything that all the
children in the world say. That’s
how he decides which children deserve his gifts!
The elves are Santa’s helpers. They make the gifts that
he distributes from his famous sled, pulled by his nine
faithful reindeer. Here they are! Each reindeer has its
own name and personality.
A
The Story of
Santa Claus!
Captain of the
reindeer team
The red-nosed
reindeer
Once flew so high, he
almost collided with a
comet!
His antlers always
point north!
Is Prancer’s twin
sister
Like her twin, loves to
dance
Is the most graceful
and acrobatic of all
the reindeer
Has been married to
Vixen for more than
two hundred years
DASHER
RUDOLPH
BLITZEN
COMET
DANCER
PRANCER
VIXEN
CUPID
Believes she should be
captain of the reindeer
team
DONDER
36
KNOCK! KNOCK!
I don’t know how long I had been sleeping,
but I woke up mid-snore. There was
somebody knocking at my window. Knock,
Knock!A weird little face was squashed
against the windowpane.
37
“Moldy mozzarella!” I squeaked. I was so
frightened all of my fur stood at attention.
A shrill little voice yelled back, “Hey there,
open up. I’ve got something to tell you!”
My teeth began chattering so hard I
probably had permanent tooth damage. I’d
NEVER be able to eat hard cheese again.
No more supersharp cheddar. No more Swiss.
I was still thinking about hard cheeses
when a chubby elf with a tiny beard tumbled
in through the fireplace. Moldy mozzarella!
That’s what I get for not opening the window,
I guess.
“Are you the magazine mouse?” he
asked, looking me up and down suspiciously.
I blinked. “Well, actually, I run a
newspaper,” I said. “My name is Stilton,
Geronimo Stilton.”
“Yeah, yeah, same thing,” the elf muttered.
M
o
l
d
y
m
o
z
z
a
r
e
l
l
a
!
39
He told me his name was Ding-Dong.
Santa Claus had sent him to find me. “He
wants you to come and visit,” the elf
explained.
I was shocked. Why would Santa
Claus
want to see me? Ding-Dong didn’t
know, either.
But how could I say no to Santa?
40
I’M TOO YOUNG
TO DIE!
The next thing I knew, I was sitting in the
back of a sleigh pulled by nine prancing
reindeer.
“Hit it, guys!” Ding-Dong shouted. Instantly,
the reindeer took off into the sky!
Up, up, up we flew.
Clouds
swir
l
ed
around
us. I held on for dear
life. Did I mention I’m AFRAID of flying?
Meanwhile, Ding-Dong was humming
happily beside me. “Hey, Magazine Mouse,
isn’t this sled awesome?” he shrieked, zipping
through the sky. Then, before I could squeak,
“NO! STOP! I’M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!” he
started showing me all of the flying tricks
Yoohoooo!
HELP!
Yoohoooo!
HELP!
Yoohoooo!
HELP!
Yoohoooo!
HELP!
42
he could do. The sled dipped and soared up
and down through the sky.
My stomach dropped. My fur turned the
color of moldy cheese.
“D-d-d-ing-D-d-d-ong!” I stammered. “I
think I’m g-g-g-oing to b-b-be sick!”
The elf didn’t answer. He was too busy
guiding the reindeer to do somersaults in the
sky. “Yahoo!” he yelled, picking up SPEED.
What was that old saying? “Never talk to a
strange elf”? Especially an elf with a name
like Ding-Dong.
I was still scolding myself when I noticed
the air had suddenly grown colder. It was
downright
whisker-freezing!
I opened my eyes. What a magical sight.
Snow and
ICICLE
-covered trees glistened
like jewels in the moonlight.
We had reached the North Pole.
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
1. SANTA’S WORKSHOP
2. O
RDER DEPARTMENT
3. C
REATIVE LAB
4. S
ANTA’S OFFICE
5. S
LED - LOADING DOCK
6. R
EINDEER BARN
7. S
LED PARKING SPOT
8. SLED LANDING STRIP
9. S
ANTA’S HOUSE
10. E
LVES’ VILLAGE
11. G
IFT-PACKAGING CENTER
/>
12. G
IFT WAREHOUSE
13. P
OST OFFICE
14. C
OMPLAINT DEPARTMENT
46
Seconds later, Ding-Dong pulled the sled
to a screeching halt in front of a log cabin.
“This is it, Magazine Mouse. This is
where Santa lives,” the elf said. He walked
up to the door and rang the bell. “It’s me,
Ding-Dong!” he announced. “I’ve brought
the magazine mouse!”
I coughed. “Well, ahem, actually, sir, I run a
newspaper. My name is Stilton, Geronimo
Stilton
,” I corrected
him.
A
booming
voice rang out
from inside. “Of
course. Come on
OF COURSE I’M
S
ANTA CLAUS!
47
in, dear Geronimo, I’ve been waiting for
you!” it said.
I entered hesitantly. A man with
a big round belly and a
FLUFFY
white beard sat
in a comfy armchair. He wore
a long,
fuzzy
red robe and
slippers with the initials S.C.
“Would you be, I mean, that is, are you him?
Are you Santa Claus?” I asked, surprised.
When he laughed, his belly shook like a
bowlful of jelly. “Ho, ho, ho! Of
course I’m Santa Claus!” he said in a deep,
booming voice. “Who did you think I was?
The Easter Bunny?”
Mrs. Claus,
Santa's wife
49
Just then, a woman’s voice called out
sternly, “OK, that’s enough now! Go back to
sleep, or you’ll never GET WELL!”
A minute later, a chubby woman with white
hair and sky-blue eyes marched into the room.
Can you guess who she was? Yep — Mrs.
Claus
, Santa’s wife.
When she saw me, she stopped and stared.
I smiled. “Mrs. Claus, my name is Stilton,
Geronimo Stilton,” I said.
Suddenly, she broke into a wide
grin. “Oh, Geronimo.” She beamed.
“We’ve been waiting for you.
Please sit down. Can I get you
anything? HOT CHOCOLATE?
Cookies? A cheddar-cheese log?” She
A BIT OF A PICKLE