Christmas Countdown Day 2
"Option two: controlled explosion," Mason said, sketching a gingerbread rocket launcher. Peppermint's eyes widened. "Mason, no explosions." "A little explosion?" "No." "A sparkler-level explosion?" "Mason." He sighed. "Fine. But this isn't over."
The Chaotic Planning Meeting
By Tuesday night, the dining room table looked less like a place to eat and more like the scene of a small, festive crime. A giant map of the North Pole was spread across it, covered in doodles, candy wrappers, and a half-eaten chocolate bar. Buttercup had something in her hair that looked suspiciously like a candy cane.
“Is that… another candy cane?” Joe asked, leaning in.
Buttercup swatted him away. “It is a tactical hair accessory, thank you. Now focus, Joseph.”
Joe pushed up his glasses like he was about to deliver a TED Talk. “Okay, option one: We sneak in through the North Corridor at 11 p.m. Minimal patrol, three security cams, and the door code is probably still 1234 because nobody ever listens to my memos.”
“That’s boring,” Mason said, already sketching something that looked like a gingerbread rocket launcher. “Option two: controlled explosion.”
Peppermint’s eyes widened. “Mason, no explosions.”
Mason crossed his arms. “A little explosion?”
“No.”
“A sparkler-level explosion?”
“Mason.”
He sighed theatrically. “Fine. But this isn’t over.”
Buttercup, who had been scribbling circles all over the map for ten minutes, slammed her hand down on Joe’s shoulder, then pushed her candy-cane sticky hair out of her eyes. “Option three: We take the secret tunnel under the Reindeer Yoga Studio. It leads right into the kitchen ceiling.”
Joe looked horrified. “That tunnel collapsed in ’09.”
Buttercup shrugged. “Details.”
“No, seriously,” Joe said. “There was an avalanche of yoga mats. It took fourteen reindeer and two chiropractors to recover them.”
Peppermint rubbed her temples. “Okay, okay—can we agree to keep this mission explosion-free, tunnel-collapse-free, and potential-reindeer-injury-free?”
Mason quietly hid his sketchbook under the table.
Buttercup leaned forward and tapped the map dramatically. “Then we go with Option One. The corridor. Simple, clean, classic. We break in, get the hot chocolate, and get out.”
Joe nodded. “We’ll need disguises.”
Mason perked up. “And backup marshmallows.”
Peppermint grinned despite herself. “Then it’s settled. Tomorrow night, we start phase one.”
The Chaos Four put their hands together over the map.
“For Peppermint’s hot chocolate,” Buttercup declared.
“For the thrill of the mission,” Mason added.
“For not getting arrested again,” Joe muttered.
“For finally tasting Santa’s magic,” Peppermint whispered.
And with that, the plan was officially in motion.
Tomorrow? Tomorrow they would begin the most ridiculous, dangerous, questionably-legal holiday heist in North Pole history.
