The Christmas Toy Factory Read online

  Santa with

  the measles

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  disappeared into the kitchen.

  I turned my attention to Santa. “But,

  Santa, why? Why did you bring me here?”

  I squeaked.

  Santa sighed. “Well, Geronimo, I seem to be

  in a little bit of a pickle. I won’t be able to

  deliver the Christmas toys this year,” he said.

  I gasped. What? That was impossible!

  I looked closely at Santa. Were his legs

  broken? Was he having a bad hair day? That’s

  when I noticed his face. It was covered with

  tiny red spots!

  “Yikes!” I cried.

  Santa nodded. “I see you’ve

  noticed my little problem,”

  he said. “Yes, Geronimo,

  I’ve come down with the

  measles

  right on

  my busiest night of the year!”

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  This was awful. Santa

  and the elves had worked

  all year making toys for

  children. And now they

  wouldn’t be able to deliver them.

  A tear fell from Santa’s eye and landed

  in his fluffy white beard. “This is why I

  need your help, Geronimo. I cannot break

  my PROMISE to the children. Will you

  deliver the TOYS?” he asked.

  Me? Deliver toys? I had trouble scampering

  and chewing gum at the same time.

  “Why me, Santa?” I squeaked.

  He smiled. “Because I have read every one

  of your books, dear Geronimo, and you have

  been on so many crazy adventures, this one

  will be a piece of cake!” he explained.

  I was a nervous wreck. How could I, a

  newspaper mouse, take over Santa’s job? It

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  was such an enormouse responsibility.

  “But what if I mess up? What if the reindeer

  make fun of me?” I squeaked.

  Mrs. Claus put her arm around me. “Of

  course you can do it, Geronimo. You just

  have to believe in yourself,” she said.

  For some reason, that made me feel a little

  better. Maybe delivering the toys wouldn’t

  be so hard after all. “I’ll do it!” I decided.

  Santa and Mrs. Claus beamed. Then Santa

  wrote something on a piece of paper. He

  rolled it up, and handed it to me. Then he

  closed his EYES and went right to sleep.

  “ZZZzzzz . . . Finally I can . . . zzzzzzz

  . . . rest . . . zzzzz!” he snored.

  H

  a

  h

  a

  h

  a

  !

  h

  a

  h

  a

  !

  Ha ha ha!

  Ha ha ha!

  H

  a

  h

  !

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  On my way out, Ding-Dong came

  running up to me. “So, Mousey, what did

  Santa tell you?” he asked.

  I sighed. “Santa has the

  measles

  .

  He asked me to help him distribute all the

  TOYS

  to children around the world,”

  I said.

  The elf turned blue, then

  purple

  , then

  green

  with envy.

  “WHAT?!” he shrieked.

  “He asked YOU, a

  MOUSE, to help him?

  I don’t believe it!”

  To prove my point, I

  unrolled the paper.

  W

  H

  A

  T

  ?

  !

  WHAT AM I?

  C

  HOPPED LIVER?!

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  When Ding-Dong finished reading, he

  looked like he was about to explode. “This is

  so unfair! Why did he ask you to help him?

  What am I? Chopped liver?!” he fumed.

  “This is all because I got a few speeding

  tickets. What’s the big deal?”

  I decided not to mention that doing

  somersaults with the sleigh probably didn’t

  help, either. I felt sort of sorry for the little elf.

  “Well, I guess you need to know how to

  get to Santa’s workshop,” he grumbled.

  I , Santa Claus, do hereby

  ask Mr. Geronimo Stilton

  to manage the workshop

  while I am ill and to deliver

  the Christmas toys to

  children around the world.

  Santa Claus

  I

  t

  s

  a

  i

  d

  :

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  “Follow me. I’ll probably have to tell you

  how EVERYTHING works, too.”

  I nodded. “Ahem, well yes, thank you.

  To be honest, I don’t know anything about

  making

  TOYS

  at all,” I confessed.

  Ding-Dong rolled his eyes. “I kind of

  guessed it. Imagine a magazine mouse

  running Santa’s toy factory! What

  do you know about toys? All you

  know about is your silly little

  magazine!” he complained.

  I wanted to point out that The

  Rodent’s Gazette was a newspaper, but I

  figured that now wasn’t the time. Ding-Dong

  was already in a jealous rage. There was no

  telling what he might do next! Throw a fit.

  Throw a TANTRUM. Throw a large, skull-

  crushing stone. Instead, I followed him

  quietly into a huge log warehouse.

  That is, I tried to follow him, but he

  slammed the door in my snout. “Youch!”

  I screamed.

  He snickered. “Oops, sorry, Mousey.”

  I practiced my deep yoga breathing. Stay

  calm, I told myself. No use getting worked

  up over a jealous elf. Still, I had to admit,

  Ding-Dong was really starting to get under

  my fur.

  Y

  o

  u

  c

  h

  !

  SANTA’S

  WORKSHOP

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  INSIDE SANTA’S

  W

  ORKSHOP

  Massaging my snout, I stumbled into

  Santa’s WORKSHOP. What

  an amazing place! The sound of whirring

  and buzzing machines filled

  the air. Elves bustled about here

  and there, making dolls and

  baby blocks, toy trains

  and tracks, baseball

  bats and balls, and

  soft,

  CUDDLY TEDDY

  BEARS

  . Some

  tapped away at

  computer keyboards,

  programming the

  latest

  VIDEO

  games.

  F

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  Others were busy painting

  smiling

  faces on dolls in

  all different sizes, shapes, and

  colors.

  There were so many things to

  look at I didn’t know what to

  check out first. Then I noticed

  a small printing press. It was

  churning out a stack
of children’s

  books.How perfect! I mean,

  what better gift is there than a

  book?

  Just then, an elf working the

  printing press noticed me. “Hey,

  everybody, it’s Geronimo Stilton!

  He’s come to help Santa!” he

  shouted.

  “Three cheers for Geronimo

  Stilton!” another elf added. The

  F

  A

  I

  R

  Y

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  A

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  E

  S

  room erupted in cheers.

  I felt so welcomed. I felt so honored. I felt

  so much pain. I looked down.

  Ding-Dong had just dropped a HEAVY

  wooden box right on my paw. I let out a yelp.

  “Cheese niblets!”

  “Oops, so sorry, Mousey.” Ding-Dong

  smirked.

  Stay calm, I told myself as I gnashed my

  teeth.

  A

  h

  i

  a

  a

  a

  a

  a

  a

  !

  C

  h

  e

  e

  s

  e

  n

  i

  b

  l

  e

  t

  s

  !

  The elves helped me load all of the gifts

  onto the sleigh. Then one of them handed me

  a looong list of names and addresses.

  I was just glancing over them when Ding-

  Dong backed the sled up, right over my tail.

  “Yikes!” I cried.

  The elf giggled under his breath. “Oops,

  so sorry, Mousey,” he murmured.

  STOP THE CLOCK

  A

  h

  i

  a

  a

  a

  a

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  !

  Y

  i

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  e

  s

  !

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  Stay calm, I told myself as I twisted my

  throbbing tail up in knots.

  The sled was packed. The reindeer were in

  place. Everything was ready. There was just

  one thing I had to ask before I left.

  “How am I ever going to deliver all of

  these gifts in just one NIGHT? There are

  millions of kids all over the world!” I cried,

  worried. I pictured the headlines the day

  after Christmas: SANTA IS A NO-SHOW IN

  GREECE!NO TOYS FOR TOTS IN NORTH

  AMERICA!

  But Mrs. Claus just smiled. “Don’t worry,

  Geronimo,” she said. “Tonight is a magical

  night. Time will stop only for you. That way,

  you will be able to give out all of the gifts.”

  Cheesecake! I was impressed. If I could

  make time stop, I’d get all of my work done

  on time. I’d make it to Benjamin’s play.

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  Maybe I’d even be the first mouse in line at

  Cheesy Doughnuts on Sunday mornings.

  I was still thinking about cheesy doughnuts

  as I waved good-bye to Santa and Mrs. Claus.

  “Have a nice trip, Geronimo!” the elves

  called. Well, except for Ding-Dong. I’m

  pretty sure he stuck his tongue out at me.

  Two minutes later, we took off into the

  sky. The reindeer SOARED through the

  clouds. A sense of peace and calm fell over

  me. The reindeer knew exactly where to go.

  We stopped in every city, large and small.

  We stopped on islands and in tiny villages.

  It was an amazing ride! As I dropped off

  the gifts in each place, I pictured the faces

  of the happy children opening them the

  next day.

  Christmas truly was a MAGICAL

  holiday!

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  NOT JUST ANY

  O

  LD ELF

  Finally, I delivered the LAST gift.

  It was for a little girl named Zoe in

  a small village in Africa. I wished I

  could stay and learn more about the

  people who lived there. But I had to

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  get the sled back to the North Pole. And

  besides, how would I explain why a mouse

  was dressed up in a Santa suit?

  The reindeer headed back to Santa’s

  workshop. I was glad. My tummy had been

  rumbling for a while now. I couldn’t wait for

  one of Mrs. Claus’s delicious cheddar logs.

  As we drew closer to the toy factory, I

  noticed an elf in the middle of the snow. And

  not just any old elf. It was Ding-Dong. He

  was sitting all alone by a

  FROZEN

  lake,

  staring into the night.

  “Hey, Ding-Dong!” I called. “Hop in. I’ll

  give you a ride back to the village.”

  The elf looked up at me and rolled

  his eyes. “Well, if it isn’t Mr. Big Shot

  Magazine Mouse

  ,” he snorted. “Don’t

  you have more presents to deliver?” He

  stormed out onto the frozen lake and started

  Hang on!

  Heeeeeelp!

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  twirling around. “Look at me!” he yelled.

  “I’m Santa Mouse. Squeak! Squeak!”

  Suddenly, there was loud CRACK! I

  stared in horror as the ice split open.

  “Watch out!” I squeaked. It was too late.

  Within seconds, Ding-Dong had vanished

  beneath the icy waters of the frozen lake.

  Without thinking, I scampered out

  after him. My paws made the ice creak

  NOISILY beneath me. I was a nervous

  wreck. What if I couldn’t save Ding-Dong?

  I lay down on the ice and slid toward

  the elf. I could just make out his tiny hand

  waving desperately in the air.

  “Help!” he cried in a shaky voice.

  Quickly, I took off my belt and threw it

  toward him. "Grab the other end!”

  Ding-Dong grabbed the belt. Very slowly, I

  managed to pull him out of the freezing

  water. I wrapped him up in my warm

  red

  jacket. Then I brought him back to the

  village.

  Santa and Mrs. Claus were shocked to see

  what had happened to Ding-Dong. Mrs. Claus

  made him lie on the sofa. She gave him a cup

  of warm milk with lots of honey.

  After he warmed up, Ding-Dong threw

  me a shy smile. “Guess you’re not such

  a bad mouse after all, Geronimo,”

  he said. Then he jumped up and shook

  my paw.

  I grinned. Ding-Dong wasn’t big on words.

  But I knew he

  was grateful that

  I had saved

  his life.

  Friends!

  Friends!

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  I was feeling warm and happy. What a

  night! I sat by the fire with

  Santa

  and Mrs.

  Claus, chatting away, munching on treats,

  and drinking cups of hot chocolate.

  Mrs. Claus’s cheddar logs really are out of

  this world!

  “How can I ever thank you for all that you

  have done, Geronimo?” Santa asked.

&
nbsp; I shook my head. “Mmmfl, mmmmfll,” I

  mumbled, my mouth full of cheese.

  “Ho! Ho! Ho!” He chuckled. “I

  thought you might not ask for anything in

  return. You’re a real gentlemouse, Geronimo

  Stilton.” He laughed. “But I want to give you

  a gift anyway.”

  CHEDDAR LOGS

  FOR EVERYONE

  I wondered what Santa would give me.

  A new suit? A tie? A box of chocolate

  Cheesy Chews? My mouth began to water

  just thinking about it.

  But instead of a wrapped gift, Santa pulled

  out a stack of letters. He explained that the

  letters were from children all over the

  world. “Every year, I get letters from children

  asking for dolls and teddy bears, race cars

  and bicycles. But once in a while, I get a letter

  from a child asking for something I cannot

  make,” he said. “It makes me very sad. But

  this year, I think you can help me with one of

  those letters, Geronimo.”

  He flipped through the envelopes and

  handed me a tiny sheet of paper. I couldn’t

  believe my eyes. It was a letter from my

  favorite nephew, Benjamin:

  My heart dropped. “But I love my nephew

  with all my heart!” I protested. “I always

  make time for him.”

  Just then, Santa pulled out a tiny black

  book. “According to my notes, Geronimo,

  the last time you played with your nephew

  Benjamin was exactly ONE month and

  TWELVE days ago,” he said quietly.

  Yikes! How

  embarrassing

  . How

  MORTIFYING

  . How true! My fur turned

  beet-red. I hadn’t been spending much time

  at all with Benjamin lately. I was so busy

  with WORK I had forgotten him.

  “The real spirit of Christmas isn’t just about

  spending money on gifts, dear Geronimo,”

  Santa said. “It’s about spending time

  with the ones we love.”

  I nodded. Santa was right. Even though

  it made me sad, I was glad he had shown

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  75

  me Benjamin’s letter. I would never want