The elves had all gathered with the reindeer at the Barn. It was a cozy place, with high, high ceilings, a hayloft, comfy stalls for the reindeer and a big play room.

At the back of the Reindeer Barn was a weight room and exercise studio fitted out especially for the reindeer (flying reindeer need to keep fit). Outside, the wind howled and the snow swept horizontally across the landscape.

"I sure hope Bruce is okay out there," Blitzen said, "I mean, he sees snow, lots of snow, but not like this, not North Pole snow. I tried calling him on his cell phone, but there's no signal. Oh, I wish he'd call us. It'll be so nice to see him. Shouldn't he have been here by now?" When Blitzen's non-stop monologue finally did stop, the silence surprised the elves and the other reindeer.

"Ah, he's a clever moose, he'll know how to weather this. I bet he'll be here soon," Percy said confidently.

The elves and reindeer were passing the time, awaiting Bruce's arrival by playing games. With the biggest and best toy workshop on the earth, they had a fine collection - Trivial Pursuit, Monopoly, Masterpiece, Scrabble - even some elf specialty games that kids never see like Nicky, Nicky, Nine Elves - fun for the whole Workshop - and North Pole Life. As evening wore on into morning, the elves and reindeer nodded off, some still sitting about the room, others lying on the hearth next to the woodstove. Then, at three in the morning, there was a weak knock at the barn door - was it the wind? - and a low muffled "wa-wa-waaaaaaa."

"It's Bruce!" Blitzen exclaimed.

Erno rubbed his eyes and quickly jumped up from the sofa where he'd fallen asleep in a small pile of elves.

Blitzen tugged the door open against the wind and in fell Bruce. He looked sugar-frosted as the wind-driven snow had frozen to his fur coat and his rack of antlers.

"I'm okay," Bruce shivered. "Just need to thththththaw out," he chattered. Erno couldn't contain himself, "The tree, the tree. I can't wait to see it. I can't smell it. Where is it? Bruce are you alright? Where's the tree? Did you lose it in the storm? Bruce? Bruce?"

"Erno, hi. Ppppppp-pleasure to meet your acquaintance. I know you've been looking forward to this tree and all and. . . well . . ."

"Where is it?" Erno was on the verge of tears.

"I ate it," Bruce said quietly.

"You what?!" Erno cried.

Despite Erno's sad, sad little elf face the reindeer giggled softly. It wasn't to be mean, it was just their four-footed sense of humour.

"He ate it," Dancer whispered and nudged Comet.

"What a guy," giggled Rudolph.

"That is such a moose-thing!" Dasher said.

"I was trapped in the snow, with no food or warmth and I was cold and hungry and . . . maybe you don't know but for a moose, a Balsam Fir, it's like. . . like. . . Filet Mignon, like Lobster Thermidor, like. . ."

"Like Chocolate Mousse?" Percy asked.

"It's okay, I guess. You had to, you were cold and hungry. . ." Erno's voice trailed off.

Bruce groaned and his tummy growled. The Christmas tree that Erno had longed for was being noisily digested in one of Bruce's four stomachs.