“Well troops, today is the day where we must migrate from our dignified post across the staircase and return to our plastic storage container home.”
Several of the older more claustrophobic nutcrackers faint at the news.
A new-this-year nutcracker pipes up, “What do you mean? Do we have to go back to our boxes?”
“No, no.” The lead nutcracker chuckles, “Your new home is this industrial grey box, but take comfort that once a year we will return to the glory of the shelf and again be organized in formation from tallest to shortest.”

(Part of me really believes these guys are alive. I anthropomorphize everything. No wonder I hate those elves on shelves, huh?)
Have courage brave soldiers! Until we meet again in December!
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