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“Come on, Dingleberry,” I said. “We’ve got some toys that need to be loaded onto Santa’s sleigh.”

As we cruised into Kringle Town Square, everyone from Santa and the elves to the reindeer and all the toys looked up, and no one seemed too thrilled to see us. Kringle Town was a mess with parts of buildings knocked to smithereens, and there were plenty of elves bruised and limping. Dingleberry and I brought the Misfit balloon to a soft landing beside Santa’s sleigh. “Come out and stand behind me,” I said to the ugly toys inside.

They did as they were told, pouring out of the mouth of the Crocodile Cobra like a bad meal. The Misfits were ugly and crooked. Some were missing eyes and some had mean-looking horns. But all of them, every single one, just needed a kid to play with them. To love them, and—like the kid with the blanket said—show them a little mercy.

“What’s going on, Gumdrop?” Santa asked.

Here went nothing. “Santa, as much as I’ve been wrong about naughty kids, you’ve been wrong about the Misfits. We all have.”

“What do you mean?” Santa asked.

“Santa, it would practically kill you when a kid went to the Naughty List,” I said. “You knew there was some good in that kid somewhere, and good deserved a present. You were acting out of love, Santa, just like you should have been. I messed everything up with my idea of justice, of a kid having to earn your love by being good. We should love them anyway, no matter what.”

“Yes, that’s true, Gumdrop,” Santa said. “And I think I can see where you are heading. That we owe the Misfit toys the same affection. But shouldn’t good children get the most wonderful toys we can give them?”

“You’re not giving a kid’s goodness enough credit, boss,” I said. “Kids, even the rotten ones, love toys. I mean, they are over the moon about them. Sure, the bratty tykes may rip the heads off dolls and turn even the simplest toy into a monster, but they love that monster. It’s theirs. An ugly Misfit toy teaches a kid that being a friend takes a little more effort. You have to try harder to love it. Santa, you’ve always tried hard to find something to love in a child. Teaching kids to do the same with toys and each other is the best gift you can ever give.”

The Fat Man blinked away a few tears. “That’s quite a good gift, yes. In all my years, I’ve failed to look at it that way, Gumdrop. Thank you.”

“Kids are wired to do good, think good, Nick,” I said. “Or else there’d be no such thing as Santa Claus. Kids will play with anything, with anyone. It’s the world that makes them stop playing. Maybe if we give them plenty to play with, they’ll keep playing longer. I say, let’s deliver all the toys to all the kids.” When I said that, it seemed to change the meaning of “child’s play” for me.

Santa was beaming. The Ho ho ho was ready to go. “And I am sure that if I ask the normal toys to play nice with the Misfits, everyone will have a truly wonderful Christmas!”

Right on cue, a Captain Chet Apollo action figure, bright and shiny, climbed out of the top of Santa’s sack and slid down to the line of Misfits. The trooper put down his laser blaster and offered the hand with the orbit turbo ignition to a Misfit called Nutbreath the Flying Squirrel. “I’d like you to come with me, friend,” he said to one of the stupidest toys ever made. “I’m going to a little boy that has an imagination so big, I’m sure we can have a lot of fun flying around the galaxy he creates. We’ll do what we can to make sure you’re not always the alien.”

Underneath his gray fur, Nutty blushed and let out a hearty laugh. His breath could have knocked a buzzard off a gut wagon, but the trooper didn’t flinch. “Yes!” Nutty said. “That sounds fun. Thank you! Thank you!”

“Ho ho ho!” Santa bellowed, and the whole square cheered. “Toys, find yourself a partner and let’s finish loading the sleigh! We haven’t got much time and I don’t want to miss a child or a cookie!”

There was a mad scramble as toys found a Misfit to lead them to their place in Santa’s sack. Everyone was smiling and cheering.