Once upon a time in a bright, little forrest,
there were three Elves named Jimmie, Bob and Horace.

Jimmie was an arsonist, Bob was a drug lord,
and Horace killed hookers with an old VCR-cord.

They went into prison but just now they broke out,
"Each take a hostage and run to the river!", Bob shouts.

They stole a get-a-way boat to cross the stream,
when Bob decided to work against the team.

He killed two hostages and shot Jimmie in the leg,
So Horace had to put a bullet in Bob's head.

"My leg hurts like a bitch!", Jimmie agonizingly shrieked,
"He almost killed us both, that degenerate freak!"

"Yeah, almost.", Horace whispered, and finished the job,
and took off with the hostage, still followed by cops.

As they were coming closer, Horace declared the hostage dead freight.
The cops were speeding up, so he had to lose weight.

He trew the girl overboard, which put him in advantage,
and he reached the other side of the river with hardly any damage.

"I made it!", he yelled, in excitement and joy,
"Now I shall go, and murder a little boy!"

But kittle did he know that there were police men here, too,
and they shot Horace into a red-brownish goo.

The moral of this story:
Not all Elves can help Santa deliver our presents in time,
so naturally some of them turn to drugs and a life full of crime.