Good Elf Gone Wrong

When you catch your fiancé cheating on you with your sister on Christmas Eve, the elf hat comes off.

I've always been the good girl-the anti Scrooge-the one who sacrifices for her guests, bakes cookies for her neighbors, and stays late after a party to clean up.

I don't mind. I like being on the nice list.

I kept smiling when I caught my fiancé coming down my sister's chimney on Christmas Eve.

I gave polite congratulations when they got engaged on Christmas morning.

And I even offered to help decorate for their holiday wedding despite the fact that was supposed to be my dream wedding.

But when my sister cuts up our great-grandmother's one-hundred-year-old wedding dress and turns it into a skank show, even though that was the dress I was going to wear on my wedding day?

Well, this elf is torching down the North Pole.

And what better way to get revenge than giving those cheaters a taste of their own medicine?

This good elf is bringing the bad boy home for Christmas.

Hudson is a six-foot-five, coldhearted, tattooed bad elf with a perpetual sneer and washboard abs.

He's exactly my sister's type.

And he's going to help me nuke her wedding from orbit on the night before Christmas.

What he is not supposed to do is grab my ass in the kitchen while I bake gingerbread.

Or crawl in my bed half naked.

And he's definitely not supposed to smirk and tell me to commit to our fake relationship right before he goes down on me.

Guess there's a reason the good elves stay far away from the bad.