The Elf and the Tiny Hunter

 Once upon a time, Etwas the Elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she heard the "whip whip whip" of a hail of arrows.  She froze and peeked around a stone.

"Oh, hi, Orion!  Watcha up to?"

The little hunter was holding a bow made from a piece of pine needle and a sheep hair.  

"I'm hunting, of course."  he pulled a dagger made from nettle flower.  "Ha! Ha! Cha!" he called as we whipped the blade around like nunchucks.  Then he spun and tossed a pencil tip that stuck in reed near Etwas.

"Hunting elves?" the little elf asked.

"Tomatoes!" the Hunter growled.  "For ketchup.  It's my favorite meat! Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to stalk my prey."

Etwas decided to come along.

"Shhhh!" Orion admonished.  You have to be very quiet.  Especially with the Cherry tomatoes.  They are timid and bunch together. Do you want to know a tactical trick I use?  I am silent as soon as I get past the marigolds so I don't stampede the tomatoes.  I can be, like silent! What's quieter than silent?  I am the silentest hunter on the planet.  You know who was a real quiet hunter?  Fate!  Fate just sneaks up and before you know it 'schwip!'

The two were crawling on their bellies so as not to skylight themselves before the tomato plants or farmers or eagles. "I can do this!" Orion announced and did a somersault which took him over the precipice of rock cliff.  He tumbled through the air and Etwas dove after him.  "Wheeeeeee!" the two shrieked together.  At the bottom of the cliff were some sweetpeas growing up the side and they grabbed the feelers and quickly wove them together as they fell, making a parachute which caught the wind and they glided along into a patch of mustard seed.  "I hate mustard." Orion explained.  "I totally meant to do that, though."

And ever since then, a condiment always comes along with an adventure.

 The Elf and The Shrimp, A Thanksgiving Special

One day, Etwas the elf was running through the forests of grass, under the canopies of clover and around the stems of tall flowers when she bumped into a shrimp on the seashore.

"Hi, Etwas," the shrimp greeted, and happy Thanksgiving!"

"Thanksgiving is always happy," Etwas answered.  "Thank you." and she giggled.  "See?"

"Do you know the story of Thanksgiving?" the shrimp asked.  "It's about how my ancestors became merpeople."

"But you're a shrimp," answered Etwas.

"Mermaid," said the shrimp.

"OK, have it your way."

"Once upon a time," the shrimp narrated, "all the people of the Earth were platypuses.  In the sea, on the land, in the rivers.  Duckbills, everywhere."

Etwas shivered.

The shrimp knew then that his story was profound and she continued with zeal.  "One day, there was a terrible war over who was ugly.  Platypus turned against platypus until my ancestor, Queen Ariel, had an idea.  She found a giant block of salt and picked it up in her mighty (and very beautiful) duckbill.  She cast it into the sea where it dissolved in the water.  Where it dissolved became the oceans and the people of the ocean became beautiful fish and sharks and merpeople, including Ariel.  On land and in the rivers, there was no salt and the people became foxes and coyotes and seals and elves and trolls and the like. Those who liked being ugly moved to the antipodes and stayed platypi.  And there was no more war. Jus an occasional wolf chasing a squirrel.  And on Thanksgiving, ever after, we mermaids celebrate by eating seaweed cured in brine.  I give thanks for you, dear Etwas, for listening."

"And I give thanks for you, shri-mermaid."

"Call me Bobby," said the shrimp.

And ever since then, the elves celebrate holiday traditions with a grain of salt.