"Wandee, come in Wandee!". The robotic voice is followed with a short static, before the communication device on my wrist falls silent again. But it still flashes bright red and green lights.

"Wandee present, what is the problem?". My voice is hoarse, still not recovered from the cold I catched a few days back, and most definitely not hiding the fact that I have been sleeping for the last few hours.

"A present seems to be lost".

I can't help but sigh. This is what they disturb me for on my free day? 

"Have you checked the attic?"

It is silent for a while.

"Yes, and lost and found, and the old reindeer shack. Nothing".

Oh, that is actually troubling. It would not be the end of the world, a child not receiving all their Christmas presents. In spite of what all those movies from the 90s to the 20s told us. It would however, be quite a shame. And a horrible year for Mister Claus as well. No, we can't have that.

But it is not that I have not solved similar cases before. Each year there are a few missing presents that go missing. But none that have happened so close before Christmas Eve. 

"I'll be on my way".

With a little heartache, I push the plush blanket off me, and jump of the couch. I believe I left my bell in the kitchen, dumped in a drawer. If I want to be at Santa's Workshop fast, I need that teleporter now. We all got one three Santas ago. They were shaped like the bells that hang on the old sleigh, the one that was still pulled by Reindeer. The new one has a little motor in the back. It is kinda like a car, now that I think about it. 

But the bell, why can't I find that stupid bell!

I rummage through all my drawers, all chaotically organised. I even pull multiple items out, but still no sign of the bell. 

Oh come on now! The last time I used it I put it right in he-

I stop right in my tracks, mentally and physically. 

It is still in my coat, isn't it?

I quickly run to the stairs, where I hung my coat on the rail. With ease, I manage to blindly find my pockets. And indeed, one of my hands quickly feel the glass fiber from the bell. 

All relief quickly overflows my body after a sigh. My heart still beats a little fast, but it is much lighter as I put my coat on. At least this little sidequest is over, now finally onto my main quest.

My coat closes, and I ring the bell, and my house quickly turns into the workshop. I put my bell back in my pocket, the one I found it in, and enter the workshop. The doors I push open with ease. It makes me feel like a hero making an epic entrance into a castle. Unfortunately the truth is a little less exciting.

"Where is Quipp?" I ask the first elf I encounter. Quipp is the elf that oversees all presents, the one that contacted me a few minutes ago. 

The elf in front of me doesn't answer verbally. But he does point to a vague direction in the back of the workshop. I quickly thank him and make my way through. Everyone is busy cleaning up after themselves. The last presents are being packaged, but most of the elves are done with their jobs for the year, and soon get to celebrate a well deserved holiday.

But it is quite the obstacle course, and I can barely breath by the time I am only halfway through. But what do I expect with a nose that is still clogged up.

I profusely apologize a poor elf whose toes I stepped on, and don't notice the shadow looming above me before I turn back to my route. 

"Miss Claus!" My eyes go wide. She will be the next Santa, once her father steps down from his duties. She is still young, about 15 years, but helps her dad already where she can, and learns all sides of what it means to be a Santa. 

"Wandee! I have been looking for you!" She exclaims. It makes sense, I guess. I believe she helps Quipp with his responsibilities this year.

"What do we know about the present?" I ask, eager to get this over with. I must act quick, quicker than normal. There is only 13 hours left. 

"It is a present for Trevor Goring. He is a tween from Canada. It was a card game from a few decades ago, because he wants to spend more time with his family who are all obsessed with screens".

"Oh god, his parents were one of those tablet toddlers, weren't they?"

"Sadly for him, yes. Which is why it is important we find this present!"

I start to think. Not many card games are made these days. I believe there was a resurge in popularity somewhere in the late 10s, early 20s, but in only a decade later most table top games got discarded for no good reason. 

I wonder if I'll be able to reach a town in Canada in time to buy one. All presents in the workshop are made on demand, no spares. And I am not sure if we will still have enough resources to make a new one, and if it would even be done on time.

"Were there other things he asked for?" I ask, fearing I already know the answer.

And indeed, miss Claus shakes her head. 

"Most of what he asked fall under the same category. But we were able to only include two games, but now one of them is missing".

I nod, trying to process all the information I gathered so far.

"I'll do my research. Is your fathers office free?".

"It is, but he doesn't know the situation yet. We thought it would be best to leave him out to prevent stress".

I sigh.

"I'll see what I can do".

I rush off to the office. The way through the workshop is still quite the challenge, but somehow I manage better this time. At least I do not stand on anyones feet or toes.

In the middle of the office, there stands a hologram of the earth. But that one I need later.

I rush to the search machine. It is similar to an old internet browser, but the AI that shows the results makes sure that the answers are more specific to what you search for. 

Not that it matters. The stores I find to buy the card game, are closed already. And ordering from the manufacturers would deliver the present too late. I'll keep that option open, though. Just in case I do not seem to find better plans.

The door to the office opens, but I do not take focus from the screen. I need to find a way to create this game!

"Not a good sign to see you here".

All blood from my face fades away, and my hands are too afraid to take action.

It is him, Santa Claus.

"What seems to be this years case?" he asks me, sitting on his desk, right next to the computer screen. He reminds me of a teacher.

I take a deep breath, and then tell him the truth. 

"That is," he pauses for a second, not quite sure to say, "not great".

"Yeah, tell me about it".

I return to my screen, knowing he'll let me do my business. We both know I will succeed in this mission. And I must admit, I quite like the challenge of this year. It is like my neurons are working in overdrive, everything seems to be far more structured in my own brain. But it is far from finally silent.

But right this moment, the workflow is not so great.

"You know, there is this scientist" 

Santa stays put, still sitting on the desk. I can feel him staring at me, but I must continue my research, so I ignore him.

"I believe he invented this sort of ray gun that can transform items. I do not know the exact workings, but I do know that it can transform source materials into a final product in an instant. I know because I looked into it for the elves".

"No". I simply answer. 

"No?" Santa seems to be taken aback a little.

"No," I repeat, "That is the least exciting problem solving, ever".

"Besides," I quickly add. "You might want to ask the rest of the elves whether they want that in the first place, because many actually like the process of making the presents".

He is taken aback a little, I can see it in his eyes, they're wide and his faint crowfeet now invisible. I don't mind. He needs to know the truth. We elves are proud of our craftmanship. And no one can take that away.

"What are your other options so far?".

I stay silent. Just for a while. Enough to finally gather the courage to look him in the eyes again.

"Have it delivered at a later time".

Stunned, he blinks a few times.

"But frost forbid we use a little laser and Bwam! We have a deck of cards".

With a little ping, a light appears in my brain, and seems to be quiet for a second to admire one singular thought.

"How much packing paper is left?".

"We still have multiple rolls, why?"

I stand up from the office chair.

"We'll need a few. We'll make a original deck of cards made out of the packing paper. Every detail consisting of a different roll. Background will be the blank backside. It will take some layers and some time. But Trevor will have a one of a kind deck of playing cards".

Santa nods.

"How much help do you need?".

"As much as is available".

*
*
*
*
*
The time it took to organise a new station in the workshop, the Trevor Card Deck Station, was quite fast. On Santa's insistence, we use laser scissors so we can glide through the paper twice as fast as with normal scissors, and five times as precise.
The finest details, normally only a nick away from total disaster, is now cut with ease.

First the designs were sketched out. Than the main paper rolls selected for each collour. And then the groups were divided in four. Each elf has a different shape to cut. Some need to make an easier shape that is cut multiple times, like the diamonds or spades. Others need to cut the finer details for the queens.

One card exists in multiple paper layers. Once those are glued together, they are pressed together between two baking rollers. The cards are finished off with a glossy coating, both in order to protect the cards from damage, but also to have a beautiful glossy finish.

With only five hours left before midnight strikes, the cards slowly get sorted once their finished. Elves who finished their cuttings, can continue to create the box to hold the deck.

Miss Claus oversees everything with me, and seems glad.

"Thank you, for not endulging my dad into using the newest technology" she whispers. I look up to her, a small smile creeping in my face.

"Adults these days are so obsessed with technology and newest trends, but true beauty lies in true connection. Between people, between creation".

Miss Clause nods.

"I am glad my generation is trying to bring the analogue techniques back. And of course we can not stop all technology, and we don't need to. But some inventions are just stupid".

"To to mention, unnecessary".

She too, smiles.

"Wandee, thank you for saving Trevor's Christmas. And my dads. Again".

I chuckle.

"I wonder what next year's fiasco will be".

~~~~~~

1990 words