Christmas Eve. The Festive Goblin infestation will be at it’s peak. You could just give in and watch them boil sprouts from green to grey mush… Or you could fight back, declare your hatred of figgy pudding and say this pine-needles-in-my-shoes business is unacceptable. But how do you fight back? Santa is coming soon, with angelic little elves who fart cinnamon puffs. You have to be on your best behaviour. But where there’s a will there’s a way.
Do you find your sellotape always in the wrong place this time of year or missing entirely? The Festive Goblins have confiscated it. They’ve scurried away with it, held rather gingerly in those pair of tongs that are probably missing too. It’s fine for them when it’s all rolled up, they play with it like a hoola-hoop.
But when humans start sticking stuff with it: that’s when the fun begins. They just can’t resist some mindlessly cheerful intervention. Festive Goblins are already quite sticky creatures; introduce Sellotape and bam! You’ve got a walking ball of stickiness! So hunt down your tape and wrap your presents with evil glee… Knowing the wee blighters who emptied your online basket of presents last week are in for a sticky-squishy surprise!
2. The Blue Cheese In the Bauble Experiment
This may be a bit extreme but if your house is over-run with raucous carol music you might consider this. Festive Goblins are drawn to baubles like toddlers are attracted to yellow snow: it’s irresistible. Moslty they swing and ping! and smash! and bounce the baubles to one another like goblin sized beach balls. You always put less baubles back in the box than you took out. So this year I took advantage of the bauble-bashing peskies. I fed crumbs of some particularly whiffy blue cheese inside tiny holes I had made in a box of chintzy* baubles. Now, I should point out that goblins of all kind shrink and grow to suit their trouble-making needs. They couldn’t resist.
*Anything tasteful will not work.
The Festive Goblins magicked into tiny pea-sized critters and jumped in. After feasting on the smelly cheese crumbs they, I imagine, looked about the bauble. How to get back up? The walls are smooth and slippy, they can’t be climbed. Oh, we’ll just magic into something bigger!
And voila! You see the effect? They’re hard little hands and feet might smash through but they’re soft-squashy-clementine bodies could not! You should hear the tinsel-spitting swear words their merry little mouths spat out! It was delightful. I’ve posted a dozen goblin baubles to an Auld Hag who once said my red shoes were ‘garish’.
3. The Real Secret
This is tough one. I mean it’s nigh-on impossible but it’s really the only truly effective way.
To quote an ancient (and bit dodgy) script that mentions humans’ plight with goblins:
“Ye onley wey to ridd yefelf of impertinant pefkies… it bee to have yefelf a jollie goode JigglyUppe.”
That’s right. Have fun. Laugh. Sing. Hug people. Eat till your jeans rip. Talk to your family. (I realise this last one is particularly shocking.) It works a treat. They can’t stand it. One year, after a board game, good conversation and giggling fit, I spied one Festive Goblin self-combust. Humans’ having limitless fun is something most faeries are uncomfortable with. They just don’t get it. There’s no impaling or armpit sniffing or Eyebrow Knitting Contests. Especially for Festive Goblins, it frazzles their brains and makes their feet all sweaty. It drives them nuts. Crackers. Christmas Crackers to be precise.
So, my advice to you, is have a very Merry Christmas. Go on, stick it to them, and have a ball.