The elf ran.

There once was a fat dumb elf named Self. He never though about anyone but himself. One Saturday he got into trouble. It was when he popped a little kid's bubble. "That was the last thing he would do," the angry villagers thought. Self hoped he would get away, though the answer to that was not. So Self swiftly ran as far a way as he could. Though suddenly he stopped and stood. "I am never going to get away," Self said, so he said good night and went to bed on a pumpkin head. Then when he didn't wake up, well he knew, he was dead. When he woke up his clothes were red and black. Then he felt a pain in his back. When he turned to see who was there, you would say he was worse then a bear.

The End

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