The Knife Before Christmas

We now return to the Hallmehrk Christmas movie classic, A Holly-Molly Christmas, currently in progress…

Doug, the snow plow driver and handyman with perfect stubble and a crisp jawline, stood there at the center of the bustling local Christmas market, pondering what he’d just learned a moment ago.

“So what you’re saying,” he said, finally, “is that you’re not Molly, an artisanal candy-cane maker. You’re actually Holly, the princess of Glendovinia, a country that is pretty much just England. And that your knack for making candy canes is something passed down to you by a wise old nanny who imparted to you a collection of quirky aphorisms that amount to something viewers of films such as this consider ‘wisdom.’”

“Correct,” said Holly who’d been known to Doug, until this moment, as Molly. “And I’ve come to hide here to the town of Snow Acres fearing that my father, who has not had any Christmas spirit since the passing of my eccentric mother, will force me to marry unlovable Nigel, prince of Heldonia, another country which is basically just England. And now I’ve fallen in love! With you, Doug! And I want to bring you home with me!”

“Wow, it all makes perfect sense,” said Doug. “But how will your country accept me? A model-hot blue-collar worker with no royal blood? In fact, I have no lineage to speak of. As was revealed in an earlier scene, I’m an orphan.”

Before Holly could reply, Jimmy the mailman pushed his way through the crowd and found them.

“Doug,” Jimmy said. “I have a package for you, one that I’m going to deliver to you right here at the Christmas market. It looks important.”

Jimmy handed him the package and then disappeared back into the crowd as Doug took out his CRKT knife and opened it.

“I usually use this knife for a bunch of really cool, manly stuff,” he admitted to Holly, “but it’s also great for opening boxes.”

Inside the package, which had no return address except a compass with the arrow pointing north, Doug found a Christmas ornament: just a single, nondescript red ball.

“What is it?” Holly said, leaning to look in. Doug took it out to show her but accidentally dropped it, causing it to shatter on the ground, revealing a note.

Holly picked it up. “‘Dearest Douglas,’” she read. “‘I believe it may finally be time for you to come to the North Pole and assume your inheritance. Love, your father, Santa Claus.’” She looked up at him, tears of joy welling in your eyes. “Doug! Do you understand what this means?”

“I can’t believe it,” Doug said, putting the blade away and stashing the knife on his belt. “I’m going to be the next Santa Claus! That’s amazing!” Then, a thought occurred to him. “So, will you come with me?”

“I couldn’t possibly,” said Holly. “I have so many things to tend to in Engla–err–Glendovinia.”

“That’s a bummer,” Doug said, “because I’m going to have a lot to tend to at the workshop, apparently.” They stood there for a quiet moment. “Well, it was nice getting to know you. Good luck with that marriage.”

“Thanks,” Holly said. “Good luck doing all the toys.”

Then they hugged and went their separate ways.