Operation Christmas Spirit, a spiritual ER visit

 The twinkle lights were already going up on Maple Lane, and Tori Rae felt nothing but a dull throb behind her eyes. Not from the lights, but from the distinct feeling that her internal Christmas Spirit gauge was flatlining. This wasn't just a mood; this was a medical emergency. Her usual bah-humbug tendencies had escalated. She felt a phantom tightening around her skull (the dreaded Devil's Snare) and a distinct ache in her metaphorical funny bone(it took a hiatus mid November). And her shins? Don't even ask. Bruised from kicking herself.

"It's time, Tor," Mauve had said, her voice gentle but firm. "You need to see Dr. Evergreen." Her pink cheeks were firm, her smile bright. The Christmas Spirit bug had definitely gotten to her already. Her tree went up the day after Thanksgiving.

Dr. Holly Evergreen's office wasn't in a sterile clinic, but in a surprisingly cozy little building tucked behind the Rec Center, smelling faintly of cinnamon and pine. Dr. Evergreen herself was a picture of calm, with a twinkle in her eye that rivaled any fairy light. She gestured to a large, surprisingly familiar-looking board on her examination table. It was laid out like an oversized game of Operation, but instead of "Wrenched Ankle" and "Writer's Cramp," the illuminated slots were labeled with decidedly festive ailments.

"Alright, Tori Rae," Dr. Evergreen said, her voice as smooth as hot cocoa. "We've got a serious case here. Your charts indicate a severe lack of festive cheer. It seems your Devil Snare has completely bound up your cognitive pathways." She pointed to a glowing red area right over the brain cavity. "And your Funny Bone, according to our telemetry, took a sharp left turn at Albuquerque and is currently orbiting Pluto." She indicated a flashing yellow light near the elbow joint. "And your Shin-Kicking Self-Reproach is off the charts," she sighed, pointing to both legs, "a common ailment when one has been too hard on oneself."

Tori Rae groaned. "Just fix it, Doc. I can't stand another caroling session."

Dr. Evergreen picked up a pair of oversized, blunt tweezers. "This requires precision, Tori Rae. We're going in."

First, the Devil Snare. "To extract the Devil Snare," Dr. Evergreen instructed, "we need to trace a line from the Joyful Jingle Juice intake valve, past the Sleigh Bell Sinus, and carefully lift the Wreath of Worry." Tori Rae held her breath as Dr. Evergreen's hand trembled slightly, then... BZZZZZT! The red light flashed.

"Oops! Slightly off course!" Dr. Evergreen chuckled, unflustered. "A little temporal static from too much past negativity. Let's try again. Focus, Tori Rae. Visualize clarity!" On the second try, with a soft click, the glowing red "Devil Snare" lifted free. Tori Rae felt a strange lightness in her head, as if a tight band had loosened.

Next, the Funny Bone. This required more delicate work. "Your funny bone," Dr. Evergreen explained, "has become dislocated from excessive cynicism. We need to realign it with a dose of authentic laughter. Trace the laughter line from the Cookie Craving Corner to the Festive Frolic Fibula." Tori Rae watched, mesmerized, as Dr. Evergreen guided the tweezers. BZZZZZT! "You tried too hard to force the joke," the doctor mused. "True humor is organic." This time, with a gentle maneuver and a soft clunk, the "Funny Bone" slot went dark. Tori Rae felt an inexplicable urge to giggle.

"Now, for the shins," Dr. Evergreen said, her voice softening. "The Shin-Kicking Self-Reproach is deeply embedded. This isn't about extraction, but about application. We need to smooth out those self-inflicted bruises with genuine compassion. Apply the Self-Compassion Cream generously, tracing the path of forgiveness." Dr. Evergreen didn't use tweezers for this; she used a tiny, soft brush, gently sweeping over the shin areas. A wave of warmth, surprising and comforting, washed over Tori Rae.

"And finally," Dr. Evergreen announced, pulling out a particularly long, crooked "bone" from the patient's mid-chest, "the notorious Bah Humbug Bone. This is the root of many festive woes. Careful, now. Precision is key. We remove this, and your Christmas Spirit will surge." She maneuvered the tweezers, and with a satisfying pop, the plastic bone came free. No buzzer this time, just a sense of profound relief.

Tori Rae sat up, feeling… different. The dull throb was gone. Her mind felt clear, light, and surprisingly open to silly puns. A genuine smile, one that reached her eyes, spread across her face. The twinkling lights outside the window suddenly looked less like an annoyance and more like… magic.

"How do you feel, Tori Rae?" Dr. Evergreen asked, her eyes twinkling even brighter.

Tori Rae took a deep, pine-scented breath. "Doc," she said, a genuine laugh bubbling up, "I think my Christmas Spirit just got its wings back!" The surgery was a resounding success.