The next morning, you report to the Småstad wardrobe just as dAnkan exits with a distinct case of bedhead: feathers messy and ruffled.
“Do you…sleep in there?” you ask while peeking in and seeing a small Busunge bed.
“Busy day today!” dAnkan ignores you while pouring coffee from what looks like a decorative Taggöga thermos. “Here’s the plan: while I manage the social media storm caused by the debacle yesterday, you will do some door to door campaigning. You know, remind people of the greatness of Santa! Should be easy, right?”
“Yes, but I really want to…” you start, but get interrupted by dAnkan pushing you into a long, interconnected series of Dvärgmås-tubes. After falling for a few minutes, you find yourself deposited into a sled in the parking lot.
After a short travel, you jump out in a residential area. You look around at the doors, feeling your palms get a bit sweaty, your knees weak, but with your time in the “Santa Youth League” in mind, you begin the campaigning.
“I’ve been a Santa voter my whole elf life, but after last night, I might just vote for that stylish Snowman!” says the first.
“You know, Captain Seafoss’ policies really spoke to me. Gave words to feelings I’ve had for many years. It might be time for a change,” says the second.
“*Reindeer Noise*”, says the third, a reindeer with a “Vote Rudolf” sign in their yard.
With a heavy heart you move to the next house. The map that dAnkan gave you notes that this is the Mealy family, a Santa-loyal family of clockmakers. “Their clocks always keep track of when every event happens!” you read in dAnkan’s sloppy handwriting. When you knock on the door you notice that it is ajar, and within you see one of the Mealies trapped.
“You there! Help me! Get these automatons off of me!!!” you hear the shrill voice of the Mealy yell out.
Running in, you notice that it is in fact one singular large automaton which is locked by an intricate lock with the Mealy stamp of approval. Looking it over, you calm yourself and try to string together a solution.
