It seems Elizabeth, Caligula’s new babysitter, has a bit of a problem with ghosts. She can see and hear them but they scare her. I’m sure she’ll grow out of it. The castle is full of them, some friendly, some less so. One thing they are good at is keeping the spiders away, so there are no cobwebs to tidy up. Otherwise they are just a bit of a nuisance.
However, she was much better than my previous assistants on the annual Santa hunt. If I hadn’t been consigned to the oubliette once again by a particularly cunning elf, I might have been able to take a bigger share of the spoils when she grabbed him by the sack and refused to let go.
By the time I made my way back upstairs it was all over. Santa had paid the ransom to get her fingernails out of his sack and once again, he escaped.
She did get me a fine coffee machine and some whisky for my Professor-depleted cabinet, but most of her haul seemed to be nail polish and nail art supplies.
I can’t complain. Those fingernails managed what all my incantations and plots and traps have so far failed to achieve, so a little triumphant decoration is definitely in order.
Santa’s sack must be smarting now. Defeat is such a bitter pill, eh, Santa?
I am, of course, assuming she meant the sack containing the presents but the glint in her eye and that wicked smile makes me wonder.
Perhaps I should just give her that raise she’s been asking for…