Rudolph woke up with a start - although he'd never been sure if it was possible to wake up with a stop. Had he been dreaming? His head ached. Maybe he'd shovelled snow so much that he'd given himself a headache. He yawned and stretched.

Well, he tried to stretch. He couldn't move his arms! What? And his eyes were open but he couldn't see anything! Was he still asleep? Was he still dreaming?

No, wait...

He remembered...

"You're awake," a voice said. It was an elf, Rudolph knew straight away. They could never hide the tone in their voices that made it seem like they were singing everything they said.

Well, that proved one thing. He wasn't asleep or dreaming. Unless the elf was a dream as well. Rudolph didn't think so. He couldn't remember ever having dreamt of an elf. Usually he was either flying or eating Mother Christmas's famous rhubarb pie. Sometimes he was flying and eating rhubarb pie! But he had never seen an elf whilst asleep. Not even a flying rhubarb one.

There was a tug at his head and suddenly a bright light scorched its way to the back of his eyes, causing him to blink quickly and squint.

"You've been a Naughty boy, haven't you Rudolph?" the elf sang.

Rudolph could tell the elf was trying to sound mean, like he was putting a 'grrr' in his voice. It didn't work. Elves just weren't like that. They were far too happy and when they weren't talking in that sing-song voice, they were singing. And when an elf sang, bells jingled beneath the smooth surface of their song. So an elf trying to sound forceful was like a banana trying to be an apple. You could peel back the skin but there'd still be no pips inside.

Now Naughty boys were not allowed at the North Pole. If your name moved from the Nice list to the Naughty one you could find yourself, very quickly, on the first train out of here. It was well known that a reindeer or elf who hadn't been Nice would find it very difficult to be accepted anywhere else. That included villages or jobs. You'd be outcast and forced to live amongst the penguins. That was fine. They were really good creatures. But all they ate was fish. And both reindeer and elves were allergic to fish.

Of course, that was if you didn't walk into a polar bear. Polar bears quite liked fish. But they also were partial to reindeer chops or elf fingers.

Luckily, in the history of the North Pole, something that went so far back its beginnings were lost in the darkest recesses of Time's memory, that had happened only once. But no -one spoke of Whipple. No -one dared talk about the night that the only Naughty elf ever to have lived tried to cancel Christmas. A damaged sleigh, Dazzle in Santa's cocoa, it hadn't taken much. Security was never needed in a place where happiness surrounded everyone like a big fur coat, complete with gloves, hat and scarf against the ice- cold winter.

If it hadn't been for the reindeer, who had managed to speed across the world with Santa asleep in the sledge they'd used instead of the broken sleigh, a lot of children would have woken up very unhappy on Christmas Day. As it was, they all received their gifts in plenty of time.

Well, there were occasions where a boy might have unwrapped a doll's house or a girl could have discovered a racing track underneath the bow and ribbon and brightly coloured paper, but they were rare occurrences - and they could be forgiven under the circumstances.

Whipple had been banished to the icy wasteland beyond the North Pole, never to be heard from again.

Rudolph had been a young buck back then, barely able to walk. His nose had shown only a brief glimmer of its current glory and no-one suspected that he might one day lead the reindeer pulling Santa's sleigh.

So, to be accused of something, whatever that something might actually be, was unthinkable. You just didn't do Naughty at the North Pole!

He tried to focus on the direction the voice was coming from but the bright light had run off with his sight and was dancing around the room with it. All he could see was sparkles exploding in his mind like fireworks on New Year's Eve.

"Come on!" sang the voice as insistently as it could, considering the 'grrr' was more like a 'prrr' with a hint of 'tinkle'. "We know it was you, so you may as well confess!"

Slowly the room came into focus and Rudolph could see his captor.

"Ethel!" he exclaimed. "What's going on?"

"Ethelbert!" the elf said. "My name is Ethelbert. Or Bert. If you really have to, you can call me 'Bert'. But not Ethel!"

Rudolph knew this, but couldn't help himself. It was innocent fun, that was all. In the realm of unfortunate names, Ethelbert was king. Or queen, depending on what you called him. As such, most of the North Pole residents were his subjects and, usually without even thinking about it, they'd call him 'Ethel'. And he'd rant that 'Ethel' wasn't his name, and the person responsible for causing the outburst would giggle and nod.

Rudolph realised that he shouldn't antagonise his captor. He could scarcely believe he had one in the first place! But here he was, tied to a chair being... well it could only be classed as interrogated!

"I'm sorry Ethelbert," he said. "I didn't mean it. Please, tell me what's going on!"

The elf stopped in front of Rudolph, placed his hands firmly on his hips and puffed his chest out, raising himself up to his height of 4 feet 2 and a (very important) bit.

All elves, once they were fully grown, were 4 feet 2 and that very important bit. They might have more hair, coiffured to a spiralling mountain on top to give the effect of extra height, or they might be completely bald, the head polished to the shiny sheen that was so fashionable these days. But still, they'd be 4 feet 2 and such a simply crucial bit.

And puffing his chest out just made Ethelbert look chubby. Elves were never the skinniest of people. They were strong and nimble, but they were roly-poly with it. It made them look cuddly and looked nice on Christmas cards and photos.

"Don't pretend you don't know," said the elf, his brow furrowing making his bushy eyebrows look like a hairy caterpillar had fallen asleep there and was snoozing until tea time, when it would wake up and chomp on a lettuce leaf or some other fine delicacy.

"I don't!" said Rudolph. He didn't. He couldn't think of one reason he'd be here in this state. In fact, he couldn't think why anyone would. There wasn't any police. Crime was nothing more than a word in the dictionary and the only things that were ever tied up were the presents, the branches of the Christmas trees or the Christmas turkey legs! He wasn't wrapped in ribbon with a bow plonked on top, he wasn't green with a fairy stuck on top of his antlers and he could be sure he didn't wasn't going to be stuffed and carved up for lunch!

"How did I know you were going to say that?" said Ethelbert. He began to pace up and down in front of Rudolph, stroking the small goatee beard that sprouted, perfectly trimmed, from his chin. "You weren't going to admit it, were you? No, that would be too easy. You're clearly far too devious to just come out and admit it."

Rudolph was getting dizzy as the little man's to-ed and fro-ed. Suddenly the elf stopped and turned to him again. Ethelbert leaned in, close enough for his moustache to tickle the reindeer's nose.

"Problem is, you see, we've got the evidence." Ethelbert smiled, trying to make it look menacing but not being able to disguise the usual twinkle in his eye. "No-one can mistake your nose."

Rudolph sneezed. One of the consequences of having a nose that lit up the night like a beacon was that it was very sensitive. A breeze could irritate it into a sneezing fit, and colds were always welcome to come and take up residence high up in the nostrils, something they had great pleasure in doing.

Unfortunately Ethelbert hadn't stepped back yet. This meant that the full force of the sneeze, including mucus, hit the elf squarely in the face. There was a shriek, a stumble and a thud as an elfin behind connected with the wooden floor. There then followed a spluttering, a frantic wiping of face and a mouthful of mutterings. Ethelbert pushed himself up and stomped over to the restrained reindeer.

"So that's your answer, is it? That's your response? I offer you a chance to admit your crime and you thank me by spitting in my face!"

"I didn't! I didn't spit! I sneezed! Your whiskers tickled me! And please tell me what I'm supposed to have done!"

Ethelbert, Bert to his friends and Ethel to almost everyone, wasn't listening. He picked up a black sack from the floor.

"You failed, you know," he said, his normally pink face now purple. "You didn't do it, you... you... Whipple! You didn't cancel Christmas!"

He raised the sack and the next moment Rudolph's world went black once more.