“The coffee shop”
Night Elf: Seven years hiding away in the Grotto. In the hole for three. Living with some shoemaker before that.
Santa’s Elf: Yeah
Night Elf: Was Santa’s Grotto as tough as they say?
Santa’s Elf: You looking to become a North Polologist?
Night Elf: You looking to go back? I chased some elves right out of Darnassus, the guys were lookin‘ to screw up and get busted back to Santa, missed the jolly red suit and all that.
Santa’s Elf: You must have worked some dipshit elves.
Night Elf: I worked all kinds.
Santa’s Elf: You see me doing thrill-seeker toy making sessions in Craftmen’s Terrace with a “Born to be Santa’s lackey” tattoo on my chest?
Night Elf: No, I do not.
Santa’s Elf: Right. And I am never going back. Got my own stuff going on here.
Night Elf: Yes I know and it’s gotta stop. You can’t go round filling stockings. It’s not done by elves in Azeroth. You’re confusing the natives.
Santa’s Elf: I do what I do best. I fill stockings with toys and I deliver them. This is the one place Santa’s not got a monopoly over. Old Greatfather Winter is a joke – he doesn’t count and we all know that. So I’m taking advantage. You just concentrate on doing what you do best, running around with crazy eyebrows and flapping ears talking about Elune the whole goddamn time.
Night Elf: You never wanted a normal-Night Elf-type life?
Santa’s Elf: What the hell is that? Temples, trees and sabers?
Night Elf: That’s part of it.
Santa’s Elf: That’s nice. That your life?
Night Elf: No. My wife spends half her time campaigning for the sisters of Elune. My stepdaughter’s got problems ’cause her real father’s an orc asshole and she’s worried she’s inherited his looks. And every moment I got, I’m chasing elves from the grotto like you.
Santa’s Elf: A worgen told me once: you want to make moves? Don’t keep anything in your life you’re not willing to walk out on in the time it takes to activate your hearthstone if you feel the heat around the corner. So if you’re chasing me and you gotta move when I move, how do you expect to keep a family?
Night Elf: What are you, a monk?
Santa’s Elf: No. We don’t have those sorts of classes in the grotto. They’re the mark of a less evolved elf if you ask me.
Night Elf: I mean- are you married?
Santa’s Elf: I’ve got a woman. Met her in Darnassus. Long legs. Still can’t get used to the eyebrows though if I’m being honest.
Night Elf: What do you tell her?
Santa’s Elf: I tell her to pluck them but she won’t be having it.
Night Elf: No what do you tell her about your work?
Santa’s Elf: I tell her I’m a tailor. I get lots of wool cloth for the stockings that way.
Night Elf: And if you spot me around the corner. You gonna walk out on her? Leave her flat? Like that? Not even say goodbye?
Santa’s Elf: That’s the grotto elf discipline – it’s either that or kill her with a garrote, and I try not to do that anymore – though that’s what Santa used to prefer – cold hearted bastard.
Night Elf: What you’re left with is pretty empty.
Santa’s Elf: Yeah? Then maybe you and me, we should both go do somethin‘ else, pal.
Night Elf: I don’t know how to do anything else. I mean I’m level 90 and bored out of my skull now. You’ve got to make your own fun round here.
Santa’s Elf: Well same here. If I don’t fill stockings I aint got anything else. It’s that or roll an alt and I can’t face that anymore.
Night Elf: And I don’t much want to.
Santa’s Elf: Neither do I.
Night Elf: We’re sitting here like a couple of regular elves. You do what you do. I do what I gotta do. What happens if I am there and I got to put you away? I won’t like it. But if it’s between you and some poor draenei whose wife you’re going to seduce with your colourful stockings, toys and mince pies, well elf brother, you are gonna go down.
Santa’s Elf: There’s a flip side to that coin. What if you got me boxed in – trapped in Rutheran Village god forbid, and I gotta put you down? ‘Cause no matter what, you will not get in my way. I’m singleminded about my stockings – they will get made and delivered, believe you me. But now that we been face to face, I would not feel good about that. But I won’t hesitate. Not for one second.
Night Elf: (smiles) Maybe it’ll happen that way. Or who knows …
Santa’s Elf: …maybe we’ll never see each other again.
Night Elf: Oh …. and this is just a thought… maybe we put our differences aside and just take down some blood elves?
Santa’s Elf: Now you’re talkin brother, now you’re talking. Let’s get started. Now where did I put my garrote?