Introducing The Minion Factory!

Once upon a time, in an icy land blanketed by snow throughout the year, twins were born to a poor seal hunter and his darling wife...

People living at the North Pole weren't in the habit of giving each other names, neither did this old couple think of naming their kids. There were far too few people to begin with...
Our story starts with the birth of these cold-hearted black-sparkly-eyed twins.

At first, the small twins, a boy and a girl, brought the poor old couple a lot of fun and joy - for you see; living at the North Pole was a dull dreary business. The only things to do were hunting innocent seals into extinction, making Steaming Seal Soup and watching Santa's elves make toys.

They lived at that North Pole? The one where Santa has his workshop?

Yes.
Indeed, that very same place - for the Earth, as you will soon discover, only has one North Pole.
In fact, the frail old couple had built their small igloo (that's a snow-person's hovel if you didn't know, made entirely from snow and ice!) on a hill overlooking Santa's workshop.

Late in the afternoon, each day, when Pappa Seal Hunter returned from killing seals, the small family of snow-people would sit outside on icy blocks and stare in wonder at all of the creations Santa's little minions, err, elves made. They would sit outside like that, watching the elves until Mamma called them inside to have a bowl of Steaming Seal Soup. The little snow-people family loved watching the elves work - they had no cable television at the North Pole, and really, there wasn't much else to do.

Every day, tirelessly, the eager Elves' nimble little fingers would craft toys and gifts, cards and clothes and all sorts of goodies that would bring joy to the world!

One day, when the twins were old enough to talk and start asking questions about the world, much like any young child starts doing at that age, the little boy intertwined his fingers with those of his twin sister and set off to Santa's Workshop.

Now you have to understand that Santa had forbidden any outsiders from coming close to his workshop. After all, in today's Industrial Espionage Age nobody could be sure who would steal what design and when. Santa knew how the corporate world worked. He knew all about the evil multi-corporations that were just waiting to steal the year's best toys from his workshop!

The twins, however, were small, just a little taller than the elves and being raised in the cold white world of the North Pole, they knew how to sneak, hide and creep. So, hand-in-hand, the little boy and the girl tunneled through thick snow, slid down slippery icy banks and carefully avoided setting off Santa's traps and alarms - until they finally reached their destination: Santa's Magical Workshop.

Peering through a stained candy-glass window, they watched in awe as hordes of tiny elves ran to and fro. At one table, a group of elves were busy writing greeting cards, invitation cards and thank you notes in a flurry of curvy fonts! At another table, a big burly elf was busy testing the strength of custom t-shirts with funny sayings and logos on them. To the young twins it really did all seem very magical. They saw the joy on the faces of the innocent elves as they created more toys, and wrapped the gifts up in seasonal gift-paper. Peering even closer, their tiny sweaty hands pressing against the candy-glass window they gasped in barely containable excitement!
How their cold little hearts wanted - no, craved, some of those gifts for themselves!

It was at that exact moment of ecstatic longing, as the little boy and girl stood quietly on the tip of their toes to peer into the magical factory, completely in awe of the creations, that a chirpy yelp broke the magical spell.

A furry ball of green playful fluff crashed into the young twins, sending them smashing straight through the candy-glass window!

The elves screamed and shouted in horror and terror as the tangled ball made of a boy, a girl and a green dog wrestled across the workshop - smashing gifts, spilling paints and inks across posters and gift cards alike. Eventually, with the sound of painful groaning and apologetic whimpering, the ball got unraveled.

Slowly, the boy stood up. His sister slid smoothly up against his side, her hand locking with his. With an excited bark the furry green dog stood before the pair, tail swishing left and right, throwing up colored paper into the air.

"What is this?" boomed the not-so-jolly voice of Santa Claus, Father Christmas himself.
"Chaos," murmured one sad elf, looking at a glob of red ink smeared across the design he was lovingly creating.
"Mayhem," muttered the big burly elf, all thoughts of testing the strength of the custom t-shirts long forgotten. With a sad shake of his head he folded his arms across his chest.
"Terror!" shrieked a tiny skinny elf, holding a bundle of crinkled wrapping paper covered in doggy drool in his tiny fists. With an involuntary yelp he started slowly backing away from the strangely smiling goofy green dog.

Santa, his face as red as his iconic suit, nodded wisely before he stomped closer to the trio:
"From now on you three are on the naughty list!" he roared, shaking his gloved fist at them. "Look at all the damage you have done! You may have set back our Christmas schedule with a whole month!"
With a fierce scowl Santa sent the trio home, back to their icy little house where Mamma was busy making another bowl of Steaming Seal Soup and Pappa was out in the white snow-clad lands, hunting seals to extinction.

That is the story of how Chaos (the silent little girl with the black sparkling eyes and cold heart), Mayhem (the clever little boy that was her twin in more than looks) and Terror (the furry, green, drooling accident-prone dog) got their names.
That is also the story of how Santa refused to give the children, and the dog, any gifts at all.

For the rest of their lives.