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Mince Pie Of Doom

One year ago, in a dark and loveless place (well, Bromsgrove), the grotty little detective bureau of Holly Noel ticked along nicely, going through people’s dustbins with a little work for News International on the side. Life was quite peaceful, and not even the ramblings of Ginny Pinny, his loyal cleaner could disturb his day. Soon came Christmas, when everything began to change. Often life changing moments can go missed, ignored. Yet, it is certainly a bit difficult to miss a six foot goliath clad in green nylon and jingling bells without covering your eyes, or craving sweetcorn. Before Holly Noel stood Tiny the Elf, and so it began. Father Christmas’ sleigh had been stolen, along with his reindeer. Father Christmas was nowhere to be found, as he was indulging in his annual tradition of being a department store Santa somewhere unknown. The only clue to the mystery was the haunting, slightly ambiguous message, “beware the mince pie of doom!” Noel took up the case, and accompanied by Mrs P, and Father Christmas’ daughter (adopted) Ruby Tuesday, they began a worldwide quest to find Father Christmas and bring him back to help sort out the crisis.

As Noel & co. were tucking into there airline meals, sick bag ready and waiting, Tiny the Elf had a meeting with a rather sinister figure; the coldly evil Anti…I mean, Auntie Freeze. On her instruction, Tiny had stolen the reindeer and the sleigh. She had promised him that his efforts would be rewarded with the one thing he’d ever truly wanted; the hand (and other attachments) of the delectable Ruby Tuesday. As the two of them plotted late into the night at the North Pole Sorting Office, they were overheard by the world weary Denise-in-a-box, who sent her assistant, the idiotic Fred Bear to warn Father Christmas’ wife, Mary (Mary Christmas, geddit?) about the diabolical plot. Fred and Mary fled to Holly Noel’s Detective Bureau.

Holly and his lovely assistant, and Ginny had recently returned from their quest, exhausted from the long journey having encountered a French lothario, endured a haunting rendition of the Australian Twelve Days of Christmas, and handled a German sausage. Having failed to find the real Father Christmas they returned deflated, only to discover him working in the Toy Shop next door. Soon after Father Christmas, Tiny arrived with more troubling news. Ruby was in danger of kidnap, and she should escape with him whilst she has the chance. Willingly she went, the assembled group not knowing of Tiny’s deceit. Mary and Fred were too late, Ruby had been captured, as Auntie Freeze gleefully cackled through the ether, or perhaps it was Skype? There’s no way to be sure. Either way, Ruby was gone, and Holly swore to get her back. He was falling in love.

At her Ice Palace, deep in the cavernous rocks of the North Pole, Auntie was close to completing her plan. The oven had just pinged, and out she brought the terrible, the indescribable mince pies of doom. Within each pie was a love serum; her plan being to get Father Christmas to eat some, fall for her and agree, on her command to bring the tradition of Christmas to a complete and timely end. But it was not to be. Many ate, but not Father Christmas. Ruby fell for Tiny, Tiny for Auntie, and Fred for Tiny (that one was really weird). Through the madness and confusion, Ruby was saved, and the evil doing of Auntie Freeze and Tiny the Elf was stopped. Holly and Ruby were a couple and in love, all without the help of the criminal confections. And so it was. Holly, Ginny and their new friends had saved Christmas, and everybody was happy. If they’d have failed there wouldn’t be a sequel…