I am a very tall eld, and frankly it is a disgrace that I have had such a terrible night of sleep upon this patty. It is awfully cold and wet, and has soaked me almost to the bone. I shiver with every passing breeze; it is a disgrace to my noble species. I am a disgrace to my noble species, laying here soaked in chocolate and paste, See, it just happens to be a rather bland slice of chocolate cake, but I’m afraid it has started to go bad; this was not the Yorkshire patty I expected. Unfortunately, this god awful Yorkshire patty has ruined its entire kind for me; as of now, I will vod to never again make any contact with a Yorkshire patty. I would try out Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups as a replacement bed, but I am allergic to peanuts, and I’d rather not die. Of course, dying will not be such a terrible option if I ever get out of this Yorkshire pattr, and reader dear, remind me to never visit York again. But then again, where can I do? I’m not sure I’ll be accepted among the other elves after the whole “pickle incident,” which was hardly even my fault.
It was really the fault of Feste the witch and his monster truck; someone gotta tell that kid that you can’t drive on the highway while eating pickles in a jeep with no doors. Feste is the reason why Kevin took the children. Of course, I managed to steal them back and they are all in the Yorkshire patty bed with me. The End.