Two years ago, Robert received a Christmas gift that would turn his life in Virginia City upside down – an “Elf on a Shelf.” Now, this wasn’t your typical Elf on a Shelf scenario. Robert lived in a cozy nook beneath the Roasting House coffee shop, and the Elf was his sole attempt at festive decoration.
In a town where ghostly shenanigans were as commonplace as a morning cup of coffee, nobody batted an eye at the peculiar occurrences that haunted Robert’s living space. Strange noises, disembodied voices, lights flickering on and off like disco ghosts – it was all in a day’s work for the spectral residents of Virginia City.
Things took a weirder turn when something scratched Robert’s back so vigorously that it looked like a feline with a vendetta against his spine. Desperate for answers, Robert decided to call in the big guns – paranormal investigators.
The brave souls spent eight hours investigating every nook and cranny of Robert’s apartment, only to conclude that there was nothing odd about the place. Even ghosts were on vacation that day.
However, one fateful night, after a long day at the coffee shop, Robert, in bed and half asleep, witnessed the Elf on a Shelf making a break for it. It leaped from the bookshelf and sprinted up the stairs like it had a date with destiny.
Confused, Robert embarked on a wild elf chase, only to come up empty-handed. Maybe it was a sleep-deprived hallucination because the Elf was back on the shelf the following morning as if nothing had happened.
Two nights later, the plot thickened.
In the wee hours, Robert stumbled to the toilet, embracing the darkness like a bathroom ninja. As he sat there contemplating the mysteries of life, he felt an unexpected touch where he should not be experiencing a caress.
Without second thoughts, he flushed the toilet, only to hear a tiny voice exclaim, “Oh, no, not again!” echoing down the pipes into the unknown.
When his sister, Hell Betty, asked what happened to the gift she gave him, he answered, “I drown the little bastard!”
Now he has no one to give him back scratches.
The Old Blog in the Desert 