Someone is cutting holes in all of my socks.

Where is this mysterious little imp? The one with the scissors. The one who sneaks into my drawer and snips the tips off of all my socks.

I'm going to catch that little rogue elf. I'm going to snatch his snippers. And then use them to crop off the top of his pointy-toed slippers.

I'm going to set a trap for that little jerk bastard. I'll build a Rube Goldberg machine better than any anti-elf contraption that you've ever seen.

Maybe I need more security. I could fasten the drawer with many locks. After all, that's cheaper than always buying new socks.

...

Yeah, you know what? This is all the blog's getting tonight. I'm about written-out for the day.