A few minutes after Adler leaves, (Patreon)

some of you in the audience begin whispering amongst yourselves:

"Is he gone?"

"Yes. Did you swap his tie?"

"I did. Are you sure this will work?"

"Of course. That tie came from the Kringle himself.  It bears an enchantment forged of pure Christmas magic, ancient and primeval.  It functions as a tracking device.  No matter where he hides, the Kringle will know exactly where he is.  Not only that, but if he tries to pook at any point he'll be sent directly to the Kringle's workshop."

"Excellent. And if this succeeds-"

"The Kringle will deliver on his end of the bargain.  Oscar Meyer Wiener Whistles for all of us."

"But I wanted a bag of thirty silver pieces."

"Quiet, someone's coming."

The Guest Narrator enters and looks around.

What up, my righteous dudes and dudettes?  Whoah, man, you all seem like, pretty tense.  Perhaps you are buggin' or illin'?  If so, my bad.  Sorry to leave you hangin' like that for ... oh, however long that was, but I totally needed a minute to get ready for this gig.  It's not every day a humble lowfolk dude gets asked to stand in for the king of the elves, you dig?  Anyway, I'm totally psyched and pumped to be here, not to mention stoked as well.  Who am I?  My name's not important; you probably have no idea who I am anyway.  Let's just say I'm a huge fan of Adler Young, and I've been like, following his story from the very start.  It's a totally bodacious and rad, and perhaps even gnarly honor to be chosen by the big elf himself for this task, and I bet the rest of you wish he trusted you this much.  I've got the book and I'll be reading from where we left off.  Oh, and for like, the sake of total convenience I'll just stick with first-person narration since that's how this thing is written.  Cool?  Awesome.  Let's get right to it then ...

...

As the Ixies warmed up the witches, I risked a quick peek over the dolmen to see what I would be working with.  They seemed to be pretty much exactly what I imagined:  A group of awkward social outcasts wearing too much black and too much makeup.  A few of them had really bad posture.  Hopefully I could help them find the dignity and self-confidence they lacked.

"HARK!" one of the Ixies yelled.  They all went silent as if listening for something.  When did they have a chance to rehearse this?  It was practically perfect!

"He approacheth!" another Ixie declared.

"Cheese it!" a third one exclaimed.  "Fly, Sisters, fly!  Woe be unto whomsoever is caught lolligagging!"

The Ixies all buzzed away into the bushes, leaving an expectant hush over the stone circle.  This was too good!  On a sudden whim, I asked the trees to start rustling as if in a stiff breeze.  

"There's no wind," one of the witches observed.

"By the Bunny!" someone else whispered.  "This is sooo spooky!"

Wait, was she genuinely getting scared?  That wasn't what I intended!  Time to get down there and start this meet-up properly!

I cast a bright flash-bang with a cloud of smoke in front of the dolmen, and immediately pooked in behind it, then strode forward through the cloud.  I glamered my eyes to glow, and magickally amplified my voice to sound thunderous and impressive.

 "Who dares enter my domain?" I coughed through the smoke as a few butterflies flitted around me.  "Who are you, that presume to be worthy to stand before me?"

"EEEEEEE!" one of the witches squealed in what might have been terror.  "You spoke the truth, young Rebecca!"

"He's cute!" another one added.

"I need crusaders who are pure of heart and of noble of deed," I declared loudly, refusing to be sidetracked by their inappropriate remarks.  "I see before me naught but witches and ne'er-do-wells whose hearts overflow with wicked desires!"

I was having trouble seeing, so I dispelled the glowing effect from my eyes and peered hard at my so-called coven.

"You!" I bellowed, pointing at one and exerting Elfmind on her.  "You were willing to sell your immortal soul just so you could bewitch some boy you have a crush on.  The most precious thing any being has to offer, and you would squander it for a one night stand?"

The chubby vixen just grinned and gazed at me in gleeful amazement.

"And you!" I shouted, switching my attention to ... was she a small bear or a large mouse?  "You wanted to learn how to curse your mother's garden so nothing could ever grow there again.  You would curse your own mother over nothing but a small list of petty slights?"

"Well duh," the mouse (or was she a bear?) responded.

This wasn't going quite like I had expected.

"You!" I yelled, pointing at the duck in the back.  She flinched noticeably, and when I probed with Elfmind, I detected her inwardly reciting, over and over, the mantra "Please don't tell them my secret, please don't tell them my secret, please don't tell them my secret..."

"You harbor a secret so dark," I improvised hastily, "this hallowed place shall not be profaned by the utterance of it."

The duck seemed to almost go limp with relief.  What was going on?  They didn't seem all that impressed with my mind-reading and my moral judgements!  I was at a loss here.  There was no choice but to push forward with my performance and hope for the best.

"I am he who is known as LORD RANDALL!" I proclaimed.  "I am an agent of Seeliness, and a devout servant of Lady Fuma!  I require, nay, DEMAND that my disciples be the same, and..."

"Hey, sweet thing," the bent old opossum crone cackled.  "You didn't read my mind yet."

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