You sit cross-legged on the kitchen floor, surrounded by cookie crumbs and peppermint wheels. "So…" you ask carefully, "how exactly are you all planning to get to the North Pole?" The gingerbread men exchange mischievous looks. The leader clears his tiny frosting throat. "We thought you'd never ask," he says grandly. Another cookie pulls a candy cane out of nowhere and taps it on the floor like a magician's wand. The air around them begins to shimmer faintly, smelling of sugar and cinnamon. "We call it the Candy Cane Express," the leader continues. "It's how all free gingerbread travel north during the holidays!" You lean closer. "Wait—you mean that wasn't just a code name?" They all laugh, the sound like the jingling of tiny bells. "Of course not! It's a real train. Well, sort of…"