Darion sat on a plush chair, as it was due to his station as overseer of the worker elves, and watched with mounting horror as the worker elves rebelled. Well, if you ask grandpa Thinker and grandma Thinker they weren’t rebelling, they were speaking their minds.

It was the first meeting of the Alerion Worker Syndicate, and the elves were using the opportunity to extort (read plead) for more privileges (read basic rights) from their generous overlord (read grandpa Thinker).

The gremlin didn’t understand why this was needed. They received a roof over their heads for the night, if not for the day, and pay in the form of food. Why did they need to get actual money too?

The nerve of these money grabbers! They had no work ethic. No respect for the overlord! He was going to lower their rations as soon as he could get away with it.

“Grandpa Thinker, Sir, we would also like a couple of days of paid leave around our birthdays and after Yule,” said worker elf number 1 452 966. His name started with J. Something ridiculous. Jiffy maybe? Darion didn’t know. Nor did he care.

“Ok, Jerald. That seems reasonable enough. And I will also give you a couple more days of sick leave per year. How about 20?” Asked grandpa Thinker. Darion spattered, but no one paid him any mind. Was the overlord bewitched?

“Thank you, Sir!” Said Jerald, and he sat back down. Then Iffy, the traitorous personal assistant to grandpa Thinker, stood up. Anna was sitting next to him, and she was sending him hopeful looks.

“Grandpa Thinker, Sir. We would also like to be allowed to have weddings on the continent. Traveling all the way to the forest of plenty is very hard,” Iffy was looking straight into grandpa Thinker’s eyes. Darion did a double-take. Yes, it was truly happening.

“Of course, Iffy. It never occurred to me before that you guys had to travel all the way to the continent of Baleen every time you wanted to get married. But I better not hear anything about divorces!”

“Albert! What do you want them to do? Be locked in a loveless marriage?” Asked grandma Thinker. Darion stared at her as if she has grown a second head. Did the system mean she could potentially divorce the overlord someday?

“Oh, fine. I’ll get a priest and a lawyer,” said grandpa Thinker, defeated.

“Several. The worker elves alone number more than ten million, dear. Let us say one for every 50000 worker elves,” said, grandma Thinker.

“Let us put it to a vote to…” Began with grandpa Thinker and hands raised from the representatives of the different worker elf groups before he even finished. Grandma Thinker wrote that down as well.

“Now, if no one else has anything else to propose?” Said grandpa Thinker, hopefully. This meeting has been going for a day, and he was tired.

“If I may have a moment of your time, supreme overlord?” Said Darion, raising his hand.

“It’s grandpa Thinker or Albert, Darion. I said so at the start of the meeting,” said, grandpa Thinker. Where this nickname has come from, he didn’t know. Supreme overlord? He never asked to be called such!

“As you wish, grandpa Thinker. We did a lot of talking today, but it was all empty noise…” Darion stopped speaking as the worker elves began to boo him. He cleared his throat and continued as if nothing happened. He was their superior, darn it.

“We achieved nothing but to ruin the discipline with which we have prided ourselves for so long. Paid leaves? Marriages in the workplace? Maternity leave? Worker elves are there to work. Gremlins are there to serve. If we, and I speak for all gremlins as the sole representative, don’t need any of these things, then neither do the worker elves. Thank you for your time, grandpa Thinker, grandma Thinker.”

“More gremlins wanted to come here today, but you pulled rank and didn’t let them,” said Iffy loud enough that his voice carried in the room. Grandpa Thinker frowned at that.

“Is that right, Darion?”

Darion paled. It was his right as the head gremlin to represent the rest. Gremlins had it better here on Alerion than they did anywhere else. They didn’t need more.

“I have always done this, grandpa Thinker, Sir,” said Darion, and he noticed that grandma Thinker was taking out the bad list.

“On the bad list!” Hissed worker elf number 6 412 789, an A something.

“+9999 years on the bad list!” Said Iffy without a shred of mercy or remorse.

“Tyrant! There should be another syndicate meeting for the gremlins. Free speech for everyone. For the brave new Alerion!” Said, Jerald.

Then the chanting began.

“For the brave new Alerion.”

“Brave new Alerion!”

“Alerion the new, Alerion the brave!”

This was a nightmare. This was an open rebellion! Why were the overlord and the system so calm?

“Gremlin Darion, for your crime of usurping the other gremlins’ right to speaking their mind, you receive 10 years on the bad list. Anything you say further can and will be used against you. Even so, do you have anything to say?” Said grandma Thinker as she wrote in the bad list. Darion lowered his head, defeated.

“I will resign from my post if this is your will,” said the gremlin. Grandpa Thinker’s eyes softened. The old grandpa Thinker would have accepted this punishment. But the new one had to prove to his granny that he could be a better, giant of a man.

“You will start to work from the bottom up. See how your fellow gremlins live without the privileges you enjoy. I demote you to a coal miner, Darion. A new gremlin will be picked to replace you tomorrow.”

For the first time, Darion felt something close to hatred for his creator. Four hundred years he had served and followed the rules, and now the rules were all broken left and right. But Darion was not going to give up on his favorite holiday. He was in charge of the acquisition of the presence of the people on the bad list. He would make sure to land all these traitors on it. And all this in time for Yule.