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Jason Bourne shook the thin layer of snow off his coat as he walked off the New York City street and into the department store. He made his way past holiday displays and busy shoppers, doing his best to look inconspicuous as he made sure to avoid any security cameras. Finally, he arrived at the jewelry department, where a young woman in a store uniform stood behind a glass display counter. She gave a friendly smile at Jason as he approached. “Good afternoon, sir. Can I help you find something?” Bourne gave a quick glance behind him before he replied. “Yes, if you could. I’m looking for a gift. A present for a friend of mine.” “Well, you’ve come to the right place, sir,” the clerk said. “Is this friend a… close friend?” Bourne cleared his throat. “I met her last year, when I came to New York.” The clerk nodded and held up a hand. “Oh, I understand. Say no more, sir. I don’t mean to pry, but it does help me find the item you believe she would like. Now what would you like to get for your friend? Earrings? A necklace, a bracelet?” The clerk leaned forward over the counter and grinned. “Perhaps a ring?” Bourne looked slightly uncomfortable. “Actually, I’m looking for a collar.” The clerk was taken off guard. “A… collar, sir?” “Yes, a collar. For her dog?” “Oh. Oh!” The clerk laughed. “Pardon me, sir! For a moment I thought…” “Don’t bother,” said Bourne with an understanding smile. “I’ve already gotten something special for my friend, but I was hoping to find something special for her dog too. You wouldn’t happen to have anything like that here?” The clerk paused in thought then nodded excitedly and motioned for Bourne to follow her around the counter. Bourne kept up with the clerk until they reached the edge of the display case, where the clerk knelt down and gently lifted up a silver dog collar, with a row of small diamonds wrapping around it. She held it up for Bourne to get a better look at it. “Do you think this would be a good fit, sir?” Bourne nodded in approval. “It’s very… nice. How much does it cost?” “Oh, this is a specialty piece, sir. But it comes to $10,450. If perhaps you would like something less expensive…” “No, this will be fine. However, I am not able to pay that much money at the moment. Perhaps you could have the collar set aside for me and I could…” “I’ll pay double.” Bourne turned behind him and saw a man with long black hair and goatee. Bourne’s eyes narrowed as the clerk stammered. “Um… pardon me, sir, but I was already assisting this gentleman and he is wanting to purchase this item.” “And he told you that he doesn’t have the money,” the man said bluntly. “I will pay double for that collar right now.” Bourne took a step towards the man as the clerk backed away from the counter. “Er, if you gentlemen will just wait a moment, I’ll get my manager and we can get this all sorted out.” With the clerk ducking into a back room, Bourne looked the man up and down. “Look, if you have that much money, I’m sure you can find something else.” “And if you are willing to spend that much money, I can say the same for you… Mr. Bourne.” Bourne kept his voice calm as he replied. “My name isn’t Bourne. I think you have me confused with somebody else.” “Right,” said the man, glancing around the store. “Increased security, cameras. Whoever you are getting that collar for must be pretty important for you to take the risk of being spotted.” Bourne glanced over the man’s shoulder to see a security guard standing by the escalators. “It’s for someone special to me… Mr. Wick.” Wick raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t think that Blackbriar knew nothing about the famous Baba Yaga, did you?” asked Bourne, his voice becoming less friendly. The two men held their gaze for a moment, each searching the other’s face for a sign of weakness. “Look,” said Bourne. “Neither of us can afford to be drawing attention to ourselves, and it’s the holidays. So how about you walk away, I finish my business here, and I won’t go to security and let them know there’s a man with a gun walking around the jewelry department?” “Better idea,” said Wick coolly. “You leave, I buy the collar, and I don’t leave an anonymous tip for the CIA that one of their most wanted is walking around New York?” Any further argument was interrupted by a scream and the sounds of gunfire. Instinctively both Bourne and Wick dropped down, and reached for their guns, looking up to see four men in colored ski masks aiming semi-automatic rifles at fleeing customers. “Everyone on the ground! NOW!” the one in the green ski mask shouted. He fired off more rounds at the ceiling as people slowly obeyed his orders. The security guard slowly reached for his revolver, only for the tallest of the four in a blue ski mask to shoot him in the arm. He snickered as he strode over to the downed officer, aiming for his head. “Someone’s trying to get on the naughty list!” “Dude! Quit screwing around!” The man in the red ski mask pointed at the other two. “Grab all you can get your hands on! And move it! Cops will be here soon!” The two nodded, ran to the jewelry display and started smashing the glass. Bourne looked over at Wick, watching as he moved his finger to the trigger. He shot Wick a warning glance. These four idiots clearly weren’t professionals. Engaging them in the store would only result in more innocent people getting hurt. Wick turned away from Bourne but lowered his weapon. As one of the thieves shoved jewelry and cash into a pillowcase, Blue Mask grabbed a hold of the clerk’s wrist. “Hey, lady! What you get me for Christmas this year?” “Let go of me! Just take what you want and leave us alone!” Blue Mask yanked the collar out of the clerk’s grip. “Aww, come on, lady! Where’s your Christmas spirit?” He slammed the butt of his rifle into the clerk’s gut, forcing her to the ground. Bourne and Wick watched in disgust as the robbers finished filling their pillowcase with loot. “Alright! Alright, let’s go!” Red Mask shouted. The four ran out of the store into the street, with Blue Mask bringing up the rear as he pocketed the dog collar. “Merry Christmas to all, and to all, SCREW YOU!” he laughed, and disappeared after his accomplices. John Wick jumped to his feet and took off at a run out the door as Jason Bourne ran to check on the clerk. He helped her up to a seated position as she gasped for breath. “I’ll be okay, I’m okay,” she coughed. “But they got away.” A look of determination came over Bourne’s face. “No, they won’t.” Jason Bourne bolted for the door and onto the street, with people still scrambling in the robbers’ wake. He now had a new mission: find the thieves, reclaim what they stole, and get the collar back. And if John Wick decided to get involved, he would need to use all of his skills to stop him. OK: The winner will be whoever 1) Finds and defeats the gang (lethally or non-lethally). 2) Defeats their opponent one-on-one (both armed with a revolver and any weapons they acquire from the gang). 3) Secures the dog collar. Merry Christmas and… Game On!

Many years have passed since the year The Pumpkin King, Jack Skellington nearly ruined Christmas when he decided to masquerade as jolly old Saint Nicholas himself, Santa Clause. Though in spite of Jack's despicable and selfish actions, Santa has forgiven him and the two holiday rulers have maintained a mutual friendship, keeping in touch with one another with Santa still bringing the joy of snow and various other Christmas tropes to Halloweentown every year to give Jack and the citizens of Halloweentown new joys and traditions. Until this year, when Santa himself has gotten bored of the same Christmas traditions every year and longs for something new, just as Jack had felt many years ago. Same old route, same old kids, both naughty and nice, same old elves, toys and reindeer, he'd give it all up "if he only could"! Jack, learning of Santa's dilemma and wanting to pay him back for the many years Santa had brought new joys and thrills into his routine (not to mention knowing all too well how Santa felt), decided to spice up Santa's routine a bit and make it more interesting,in the hopes that it would bring him back to his jolly old self. Jack decides to go to the witch sisters of Halloweentown and ask them to brew him a special potion, one that would make all the children of the world start behaving more poorly and despicably, thus at the very least giving Santa a Christmas of a different sort. The witches finish the potion, and Jack places samples into little viles. Just as he had done many years ago when he had usurped Christmas, Jack sneaks into the real world one night and slips the potion into various factories and warehouses that distribute many goods and services, including water, milk, soft drinks, soups, etc., before quietly retreating back to Halloweentown undetected. No one was the wiser! Not knowing what hit them, people all over the world start acting bitter and cold-hearted towards one another. Insults, fist fights, children back talking their parents and teachers and the parents and teachers giving harsh punishments in return, it becomes global chaos and complete anarchy! Christmas time hits, and Jack, thinking he had done a good deed by making Santa's job and life more lively, starts celebrating with the rest of Halloweentown, as they watch the whole thing from the witch's cauldron. Unfortunately, however, Jack has never heard the legend that it's actually not Santa Clause that punishes children and people on the "Naughty" list, but a demonic deity known simply as Krampus! As the citizens of Halloweentown continue to watch the events of the Christmas night unfold, they become even more excited to see the bipedal, goat-like counterpart of Saint Nicholas entering the homes of all the naughty children and taking them and their families into the Underworld! The Devil of Halloweentown especially takes a particular liking to Krampus, wondering if he and Krampus were supposed to be Christmas/Halloween counterparts in a similar manner to Santa and Jack. Jack, however, becomes disturbed by what he sees Krampus doing, realizing that all he wanted was to give Santa Clause something different and not have kids get punished this harshly on account of him! When Jack notices that Krampus is also bringing demonic toys and ginger bread cookies into the children's houses, he is instantly reminded of the toys that he brought children many years ago and starts feeling more guilty than ever. "What have I done?! What have I done?!", he starts melancholingly singing to himself. Then Jack thinks to himself, "Wait! There still may be time to set things right!" As Krampus and his minions continue terrorizing the naughty children, Jack shows up and attempts to intervene. Krampus is dismissive, viewing Jack as a gaudy, naive fool dabbling in matters he doesn't understand. The conflict escalates into a physical confrontation! Which dark and supernatural counterpart of Santa Clause that leaves grim and demonic presents to children will come out on top (up on the house top, to be precise)?! Merry Christmas, everybody!

Merry Christmas guys, here's Christopher Walken throwing gifts at you... Heh. Of course if he breaks anything, I'm sure you're reaction will be more like this. Batman Returns is such an underrated movie! All that aside, have a merry Christmas, and here's a Batman-less image for you as well.

THE NUTCRACKER AND THE MOUSE INVENTOR A few days before Christmas, snow dusted the city in a soft white layer. Streetlights turned into glowing orbs and fire escapes turned into glittering ladders. Perched on a tree near their headquarters, the Rescue Rangers huddled together, scarves and jackets bundled tight against the cold. Dale rubbed his paws together excitedly. “Okay, holiday agenda! First, we find every bakery in the city. Second, we eat everything,” he declared. Chip adjusted his fedora, already weary. “Dale, we talked about this. Moderation.” Monterey Jack’s whiskers twitched. “If we’re talkin’ holidays, laddie, we oughtta be talkin’ cheese. Seasonal cheeses! Aged wheels, smoked logs, maybe somethin’ with cranberries in it.” Gadget smiled warmly at her friends. “I was thinking… maybe we could build toys. Donate them. There are lots of kids who don’t get much for Christmas.” Zipper chirped approvingly. Chip opened his mouth to respond but then something caught his eye. Across the small park below, a young girl stood near an old tree. She struggled slightly as she pinned a piece of paper to the trunk. One of her arms was held in a sling. Once she finished, she glanced around nervously, then hurried back into the snowy night. Chip stared in the distance. “Guys… hold that thought.” He slid down the tree and jogged across the snow. The others exchanged looks and followed. Chip tugged the paper free and read aloud. Looking for a hero. Please help me find my friend. Address: 14 Linden Street. “Wow. That’s… direct,” said Dale. Chip folded the note carefully. “Looks like we’ve found our holiday plans.” Gadget smiled softly. “A rescue mission.” Monterey Jack scratched his chin. “I’ve got a strange feelin’ about this one already.” The Ranger Plane hummed quietly as it soared over snow-covered rooftops before finally settling on the windowsill of a modest house on Linden Street. A warm glow emanated from inside. “Are you guys sure about this?” Monterey Jack muttered. “We help those in need,” Gadget said gently. “Especially at Christmas.” The window creaked open. The girl gasped when she saw them, then clasped her hands together. “It worked… It really worked! Tell me you saw my note.” Chip tipped his hat. “Rescue Rangers, ma’am. We did see your note.” “I’m Marie,” she said, smiling through tears. “This is better than I’d hoped for. You’re… you’re the perfect size heroes.” Dale beamed. “Y’know, I don’t hear that nearly enough.” Chip frowned slightly. “What do you mean by that?” Marie sat on her bed “My uncle gave me a nutcracker as an early Christmas gift. It was the most wonderful gift.I loved him. But my brother accidentally broke him.” Her voice trembled. “One night, I tried to fix him. Then near midnight… the floorboards opened. The Mouse King rose up with his army of mice. I suddenly shrunk to his size and his army attacked. That’s how I hurt my arm. The Nutcracker came to life and fought for me and his army of gingerbread men tried to protect me….” She swallowed hard. “The mice ate the gingerbread men. The Nutcracker told me if he could defeat the Mouse King, his army would have to obey him. But he was too injured to defeat him. They took my friend.” Maris shifted her sling as she wiped her eyes. “Now , the Mouse King visits me every night. He makes me give him sweets… or he says he’ll destroy the Nutcracker.” The room was silent. Monterey Jack coughed. “No offense, lass… but that’s the wildest tale I’ve ever heard.” Marie’s eyes filled with tears. “No one believes me. Not my parents, not anyone. I’m running out of sweets and I can’t save my friend.” Gadget stepped forward and took Marie’s hand. “No. We do.” Chip hesitated and then nodded. “It’s getting late already. We should just stay and see what the situation is.” Marie brightened. “That would be wonderful. The Nutcracker promised me that when this was over he would take me to the Land of Sweets. I’m sure he would take you all as a thank you as well.” Dale’s ears perked up. “Did someone say Land of Sweets? We have to rescue that nutcracker.” Midnight crept closer. Marie fell asleep. The Rangers fought sleep with eyes heavy until Dale blinked and saw movement. “Mice,” he whispered. The floorboards shifted. Dozens of mice emerged to drag the plate of sweets away left by Marie.. Then a mouse with seven heads wearing seven different crowns rose behind them. Dale screamed. “What is that?!? Why does he have so many heads?” Monterey Jack stared. “Sweet cheddar… it’s real.” “Rescue Rangers! Follow them!” Chip shouted. He ran forward, but suddenly was swarmed by mice and vanished beneath the floorboards. “CHIP!” Dale yelled. The opening sealed shut before the others could follow Chip and the mice. “The gateways are brief,” the Mouse King hissed from behind them. “You too must now provide sweets… or lose your friend forever.” Then the Mouse King was gone. Morning came quietly. Instantly after awaking, Marie noticed that one of the Rangers was missing. “Where’s your friend with the cute hat?” Monterey Jack bowed his head. “We lost him to the Mouse King.” “I’m so sorry,” Marie whispered. “And I’m sorry I doubted you,” Monterey Jack replied. “We have one day to figure out a plan to save Chip and the Nutcracker,” Gadget proclaimed. She pointed decisively. “Monty, Zipper, go into town, gather sweets. Dale, you are with me. We need to be prepared when they show up tonight.” Gadget worked tirelessly on inventions throughout the day with Dale by her side as Monty and Zipper secured their offerings for the night. As evening came, Marie felt concern for her new friends. “I feel bad for going to sleep,” she admitted. “No, you must act like you have been, we have to act like nothing has changed if we want to keep them off guard,” Gadget replied. “We are going to get ‘em and get through that gateway,” Dale said confidently. Marie went to sleep and the Rangers waited for their moment to strike. Dale hid behind a few of Marie’s dolls waiting for Gadget’s signal to run for the gateway. Gadget tinkered with her plunger gun as Monetery Jack and Zipper kept watch. Unbeknownst to the Rangers, the Mouse King had a plan of his own. Monty’s nostrils were suddenly filled with the scent of his one true weakness, Monty’s mustache went haywire with the sweet aroma. “CHEEEEEEESSSEEEE!” Monterey Jack floated away from his post in a hypnotized daze. Zipper tried desperately to stop, but the fly was too small to halt his momentum. Monty fell right into a literal mouse trap as he grabbed for the cheese. He screamed in pain. Gadget heard the noise in the distance and looked around. Monty and Zipper were missing. At that moment, the mice rose up from the floorboards. Gadget scampered back to grab her gadgets. Dale watched as the mice grabbed the plates of sweets. An unexpected sight sent him into a rage. One of the mice wore Chip’s hat. Dale angrily jumped out from behind the dolls and pounced on the mouse. “No, Dale you're too early!!” Gadget called out. The mice ganged up on Dale to take him down as Gadget ran to his rescue. Meanwhile back at the mouse trap, Zipper struggled to try and free Monterey Jack. The Mouse King appeared. “This is where you belong,” he taunted. “You are a traitor to all mice trying to help that wretched human. The very trap you lay in now was created by the uncle of that foolish girl and used as a weapon to destroy my family.” The Mouse King then left them to savor the sweets for the night. When he got closer to the plates of sweets, he witnessed Gadget using her plunger gun as well as magnets to pull away his army of mice from Dale and the plates. The Mouse King was impressed. Zipper flew over to Gadget and tugged at her sleeve. “Zipper?!? Where’s Monty? What happened?” she asked. Zipper motioned in the direction of Monterey Jack and Gadget could tell her teammate was panicked. The Mouse King and his army used the distraction as an opportunity to take the sweets underneath the floorboards. “You must not care about your friend’s safety to try and pull this stunt,” he hissed as they disappeared. Dale, flat on his back, and in obvious pain called out to them. “Come back and fight. I’m not through with you.” Gadget followed Zipper to the mouse trap and helped release Monterey Jack. Another ally down and another night that ended in failure. The next morning, Marie immediately tended to Monty’s injuries. “I am so so sorry. I shouldn’t have got you and your friends involved. Please forgive me.” “Ah, don’t worry lass,” Monty said weakly. “This isn’t your fault.” Dale sulked up next to him. “No. it’s mine. I saw Chip’s hat and I lost my mind. I ruined Gadget’s plan.” Gadget was trying her best to remain optimistic. “There is no point in leveling blame. The plan was most likely doomed from the moment they went after Monty.” Gadget looked at her plunger gun. “I’ll just have to get more creative for tonight. This could be our last shot.” That day Dale helped gather more sweets while Gadget tinkered with some more inventions with Zipper’s assistance. It was clear that their confidence had been shattered but they pushed forward. Night came, Gadget and Dale positioned themselves near the plates of sweets. But, nothing happened. They did not see the Mouse King or his army the entire night. The only battle that awaited them was confusion and exhaustion when morning came. When Marie sat up, her face was pale. “He came alone,” she said softly. “He told me I don’t need to feed him sweets anymore.” She held up a tiny wedding dress that was placed in her hand. “He wants Gadget… as his queen… as his bride.” Silence filled the room. “If we give him Gadget, he said he would return the Nutcracker and Chip.” Dale exploded. “NO WAY!” Marie shook her head desperately. “I’d never ask…” “I’ll do it,” Gadget announced calmly. Everyone stared at her. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to be sacrificing myself,” Gadget continued. “I just need to get close. I think this is our best chance, if not our only chance.” Monterey Jack tried to walk in his tiny cast. “Gadget love, this is too dangerous.” “If I can get close to him, I can beat him,” insisted Gadget. “And according to the Nutcracker once I take his crowns, his army will listen to me and I will make them return the Nutcracker and Chip.” “You think you can really beat him and all his seven heads?” asked Dale. Gadget nodded. She looked down at the wedding dress. Her mind already started to come up with inventions she could sneak in the dress as well as possible subtle modifications she could make before nightfall. “You are so brave,” Marie marveled. Gadget smiled. “Thanks.”

"Oh, there's no place like home for the holidays 'Cause no matter how far away you roam When you pine for the sunshine of a friendly gaze For the holidays, you can't beat home, sweet home..." Those lyrics sung by Perry Como played overhead while John McClane rested his head back against the seat. His son and daughter were fast asleep next to him while Holly sat by herself. The decorated officer let out a gentle sigh as he glanced down at his sleeping kids and then stared at his wife. A small smirk formed on the side of his cheeks as she was hard at work in preparing for a speech that she was going to deliver. As the song continued to gently play in the cabin, John could not help but wish they were all back in their warm and cozy home. He wanted nothing more than a quiet Christmas with his wife and kids. This trip was not his idea, and it was certainly not something that he wanted to take. After several conversations with his wife and the recommendation from Al to listen to his wife, John relented on taking this trip during the Christmas season. As for this trip, McClane was still trying to wrap his mind around what it was. After the events at Nakatomi Tower and the Washington Dulles International Airport, McClane had become well known across the world for his heroics. While he repeatedly told people that it was all part of the job and that he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, many had labeled him a hero. For his actions that called him to go above and beyond the call of duty as a police officer as well as Holly's new position at her job, they were sent a space invitation to spend the Christmas holidays in a rather unique place. Far beyond anywhere John had ever cared to travel and far beyond his comprehension of what he thought was possible, his family were invited to spend the holidays in the North Pole. While the wise-cracking officer had stopped believing in Santa long ago, somehow it did not stop the legendary jolly figure from believing in him. While looking over at his wife, John was still thinking about the absurd idea of visiting Santa and the North Pole for the holidays. As he was lost in thought, the plane hit a bit of turbulence that caused John to tense up. Once the turbulence had past, John glanced back down at his children who were still fast asleep. The veteran cop closed his eyes and quietly stood up from his seat. He gently moved past his kids and into the aisle. Holly was concentrated on her notes as McClane made his way to the back of the plane. From what he had gathered, they still had a little more time before they reached their destination. McClane stepped into the restroom to relieve himself. Once he finished up, he reached down into his pocket for his pack of cigarettes. After pulling them out, he closed his eyes and groaned. Remembering that he could not smoke on the plane, McClane pushed the pack back down into his pocket. Outside the restroom, he saw a phone line next to one of the stations. Shaking his head, McClane sauntered over toward the phones and reached to take one of them off the line. He dialed a number that he had come to dial a lot in the past couple years. Leaned against the back of one of the seats, McClane listened as the phone started to ring. While waiting for an answer, John saw the image of a cartoon Santa decoration in front of him. The veteran cop shook his head and rolled his eyes as he glanced away. The phone rang a couple more times before he heard a familiar voice on the other end. "So, are you enjoying milk and cookies with the Big Man himself yet?" "Not yet, still on the plane. Have you got a call to race for NASCAR yet, Al?" McClane said with a smirk. "Not yet, McClane. Haha... So, how is the flight?" Al asked with a slight chuckle. "Terrible, still trying to wrap my head around this whole spending Christmas with Santa thing..." McClane replied while glancing back at that cartoon Santa decoration. "Well, you did go above and beyond." Al replied. "I'm also still trying to decide whether to kick your ass or shoot you for convincing me to do this." John said with a light tone in his voice. "Like I said, McClane... Happy wife, happy life!" Al replied with a laugh. "Hey, listen Pal, I need to let you go. I'm helping the boy with getting some cookies made for the Big Man." "Are you sure those cookies aren't meant for you?" McClane joked. "Hey, I get to have the left-overs. I'll see you later, McClane... Don't go looking for any trouble while you're in the North Pole." "That's the thing, Al. I never look for it, but it sure as hell has a way of finding me." McClane added before hanging up the phone. While John walked back to his seat, Holly's eyes perked up and met his gaze. "Everything okay?" She asked. "Yeah, just gave Al a quick call." McClane replied. Holly let out a gentle sigh as she shook her head. "Please, John..." "What?" McClane asked with a dumbfounded expression. "Please, let this be a Christmas without any trouble or chaos." Holly pleaded. "Did you.... Did you talk to Al?" John asked with a smirk. "What?" "Like I told Al... I never look for trouble. It just always has a way of finding me." John replied before looking over his sleeping kids. It was not long before they received the announcement of the final descent. John quietly got back into his seat and prepared himself for what was about to happen. All he could imagine was milk, cookies, Christmas carols, and tons of wrapping paper. There was a small part of him that longed for something to get him away from all of the festivities that were about to come. Meanwhile, "We cannot have another debacle this year, Curtis!" Bernard exclaimed as the two elves were walking down the corridors of the North Pole. "From Dick Dastardly trying to steal the reindeer years ago to that demon Santa fighting Krampus, I don't think my blood pressure can handle another debacle. Now, Santa wants to have strangers here for some big feast! I swear, I need to retire soon!" "Well, that police officer did save a bunch of hostages on one of the previous Christmases... In fact, he did it twice!" Curtis responded with a joyful smile. Bernard scoffed while shaking his head. "Not the point, Curtis! We have deadlines and this is no place for a bunch of outsiders! Santa has truly lost it this year. He is needed other places and not hosting some cop's and his family." "Well, I do have an idea!" Curtis added. "No!" Bernard snapped while shooting a piercing glare at Curtis. "Not that again." "I worked out the kinks this time. It will be better than last time." Curtis argued. "Curtis, I have a schedule to keep. With the Polar Express arriving, this cop and his family, as well as Santa meeting his many deadlines... We can't afford to have another crazed robot Santa running around wreaking havoc." Bernard sauntered off to meet with Judy and some of the other elves. Curtis watched as Bernard and the other elves disappear from view. Curtis stood quietly for a moment. He knew that Bernard was overwhelmed with the stress surrounding the season. This time of the year always seemed to bring about the worst-case scenarios imaginable for the Head Elf. With the last several years, there always seemed to be some unexpected trouble that would present itself. While it was not ideal, Curtis toyed with the idea of creating a substitute version of Santa to help out with the many different deadlines. As the real Santa was preparing to host the hero cop and his family for a visit to the North Pole as well as take another trip around the globe, Curtis felt that the North Pole needed a little more help than usual this year. He wrestled with the idea as the last time he created a "Santa", it did not go as planned. Despite the previous disaster with his Toy Santa, Curtis was determined to help. He wanted to find a way to take away the stresses from Bernard as well as lift any other burdens that were weighing down on the other elves at the North Pole. Hurrying down to his laboratory, Curtis rushed to get all of the switches turned on. As red and green lights flashed around the room, his machine roared to life. Watching while a conveyer belt moved before him, a large grin formed across the cheeks of Curtis. Emerging from the machine was the synthetic looking Santa. "You're perfect!" Curtis exclaimed as he could not contain himself. The synthetic Santa blinked before started to move with squeaky sounding joints. "Oh, wow! What a trip?!" Toy Santa exclaimed while looking around the room. "Last thing I remember was..." The synthetic Santa paused as he looked around the room. His plastic eyes then fell upon Curtis. "You betrayed me! You all betrayed me!" Toy Santa yelled. "Wait, what? This isn't right... This is..." Before Curtis could react, Toy Santa lunged at him and grabbed him as tight as he could. "No more coal for naughty children... This year, all the children will get what they truly deserve!" Toy Santa knocked Curtis unconscious and locked him away inside an oversized gift box. The synthetic Santa walked over to a table of toys and picked up a small toy soldier. Glaring at the toy soldier with his permanent plastic smile, the Toy Santa started devising a plan to take control of the North Pole and destroy all the naughty children across the world. He laughed as he placed the toy soldier onto the conveyer belt and watched as it was enlarged. He then started replicating the soldier into a small army. This time, Santa and the elves would not stand in his way. He would take control of the North Pole by any means necessary. Arriving in the North Pole, Even though he could see all that was happening around him, John still had a hard time believing what he was seeing. Despite hearing one of the elves say, "seeing isn't believing; believing is seeing..." The seasoned officer felt he needed a moment to catch his breath. Holly and the kids went with one of the elves to meet with Santa himself while John excused himself to freshen up. In reality, John was wanting some time to smoke a cigarette and have a moment to himself before he was greeted with the holiday cheer. While John was off to himself, he took out a cigarette and lit it up before placing it between his lips. As he was enjoying a smoke break, Holly and the kids ventured deeper into the North Pole. They were soon greeted by Santa and his wife. The McClane kids were overwhelmed by the joy of meeting Kris Kringle himself while Holly was trying to find the words to say. Holly had been preparing herself for this moment and even practiced giving a presentation to Santa, but when she stood before him, she found herself at a loss for words. "Where is that husband of yours?!" Santa asked with a gigantic smile. "John? Uh... He is.... He is freshening up..." Holly replied with widened eyes. "I know how that goes... Usually, after halfway across the world, I have to take a pit stop or two for myself." Santa giggled. "Speaking of which, how was your trip?" Before Holly could answer, a large bang echoed throughout the workshop. The floor beneath them started to shake. Suddenly, over a dozen large toy soldiers had marched into the workshop. Santa looked around but they were being flanked in all directions by the over-sized soldiers. The elves were being detained and soon they were all surrounded. "Curtis, what did you do?" Bernard muttered under his breath. Soon, Santa saw a familiar figure walking into the workshop. "You?" Santa said as Toy Santa stood before him. "The one and only!" Toy Santa yelled. "Take him away. Take them all away! There is little time. We have a lot of work to do! This will be the year that all the naughty children are dealt with once and for all! This will be the year Christmas ends! This will be the year that the reindeer die!" Holly listened helplessly as her kids were being dragged away by the toy soldiers. She could not help but think why did this keep happening to them. She then remembered what John said back on the plane. Trouble always had a way of finding him. Maybe he would do what he did best. Outside of the workshop, John tossed his cigarette on the ground before stepping on it to put it out. There were not a lot of places around here that he could find to be alone, but he managed to find one spot to have a smoke. It seemed like everywhere he turned; he saw some sort of decoration which wasn't surprising considering where he was. Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes for a moment, the seasoned officer realized that it was time to catch up with his family and meet Santa Claus. Thinking about that still caused him to shiver; but the more he looked around, the more he was warming up to the idea. While marching through the snow-covered streets, he heard a peculiar sound. The officer crouched low and steadily made his way to a corner. Glancing around the corner, he saw as a group of over-sized toy soldiers were dragging some of the elves through the street. "You got to be kidding me..." John muttered under his breath. "John, what did you get yourself into this time?" He watched as the elves struggled against the toy soldiers and watched as a radio was knocked off one of the toy soldiers. John quietly made his way toward the radio and scooped it up from the snow. He then made his way back to cover. Over the radio, he could hear Toy Santa giving out orders to his minions. "Listen, ass-hole, I don't know who you are but I suggest you let everyone go now!" John said over the radio. "Wait, who is this?!" Toy Santa demanded. "Just someone who finds himself in the wrong place at the wrong time." "I can tell you are naughty just like all these stinking brats around the world. I will deal with you like I deal with all those good for nothing naughty children!" Toy Santa screamed. "Naughty or nice, it doesn't matter much to me, ass-hole. What matters to me is what I am going to do when I find you!" "You are no match for me and my army!" Toy Santa boasted. "Yippee-ki-yay, mother f*cker!" John exclaimed over the radio before preparing for yet another Christmas in the trenches.

A COBRA CHRISTMAS? The Arctic wind howled against the steel walls of the outpost, a lonely Cobra listening station buried beneath ice and secrecy. Inside, the lights were low and cold blue. They reflected off banks of monitors and weapons racks. Zartan leaned casually against a crate of stolen ordinance with his arms crossed and hood shadowing his scarred face. His sister, Zarana, perched atop a console nearby with her legs crossed. She absently twirled a dagger between gloved fingers. Across from them stood Destro, his silver mask gleamed in the dimmed light. “Well?” Destro began, fingers steepled. “You said you had an update. I trust it was worth diverting my time from a rather lucrative weapons negotiation.” Zarana smirked. “Oh, it was worth it.” Zartan chuckled lowly. “You stumbled onto more than you realized, Destro.” Destro looked at him with curiosity. “I encountered a… small individual during arctic scouting. Green attire. Pointy ears. I assumed it was some bizarre local cultist and decided to see where it led. That’s when I brought the two of you in.” Zarana leaned forward. “And I followed that lead straight into Santa’s workshop.” “You’re telling me you infiltrated the North Pole?” Destro questioned. “Disguised myself as an elf,” Zarana said breezily. “Went in. Made toys. Drank cocoa. The whole experience." Zartan snorted. Destro’ was incredulous. “You expect me to believe no one noticed?” “Obviously I took the place of an elf that was already working there. It wasn’t hard,” Zarana explained. “Then tell me, did this lead to Santa himself? Technology? Some manner of teleportation, time distortion, global logistics system I could weaponize or sell?” asked Destro. Zarana grinned. “I found something better.” “Better?” “The Santa Clause,” Zaranna announced. Destro paused. “...You mean the man.” “No,” Zartan cut in. “The Clause.” “The contract. Capital C Clause,” Zarana added. She cleared her throat theatrically and recited: ‘In putting on the suit and entering the sleigh, the wearer waives any and all rights to any previous identity, real or implied, and fully accepts the duties and responsibilities of Santa Claus, until such time as the wearer is unable to do so…’ The room went silent. Destro stared at them. “…That’s absurd.” “You’d be amazed what you can learn when you help elves assemble rocking horses for eight hours a day,” Zarana explained. “It’s a workplace like any other. You just need to know who gossips. Elves love gossip.” Zartan interjected. “The current Santa? Only a few years into the job. Human. Soft.” Destro inhaled sharply. “You’re suggesting…” “I eliminate Santa on Christmas Eve,” Zartan said calmly. “I take the suit. I become Santa.” The silence that followed was broken only by the hum of machinery. Destro’s head quickly filled with the limitless potential that would be available to him with such power. “The elves… the sleigh… instant global delivery…” His voice grew louder, feverish. “Weapons transported worldwide in a single night. Manufacturing at impossible speed. Cobra’s reach would be limitless.” Zarana tilted her head. “Commander might want to… decorate things a bit once Zartan’s in charge up there.” Destro shrugged. “Naturally. But for now, this remains ours. The fewer who know, the less chance Santa realizes he’s being targeted.” Zartan regarded Destro with some suspicion but nodded in agreement. “We want guarantees.” “You’ll be well rewarded,” Destro promised. “If I may suggest, make it look like an accident. Disguise yourself as an ordinary man. We don’t know what the reaction would be to… overt hostility.” Zartan smiled. “I’ll have a month to blend into normal society. The elves won’t suspect a thing.” Destro laughed, giddy despite himself. He then looked over at Zarana, “One question remains.” Zarana sighed. “I knew it.” “How,” Destro asked, “did you make yourself small enough to pass as an elf?” Zarana winced. “Trade secret. Also, it was murder on my knees.” Several weeks later, the North Pole buzzed with activity. Santa, Scott Calvin, stood in the wardrobe room as Curtis, the second in command amongst the elves to Bernard, beamed proudly, holding up the red suit. “We’ve made some upgrades this year!” he declared. Scott eyed the suit warily; he looked at Bernard who was also with them and then back to Curtis. “Curtis… why does it feel heavier?” “Kevlar lining,” Curtis said brightly. “Bullet-resistant. Flame retardant for chimneys.” Scott blinked. “Am I delivering presents or storming a compound?” Curtis laughed nervously. “You’d be surprised how… defensive people have gotten what with the rise in home invasions. Just want to be prepared for the worst.” Curtis then held up a candy cane. With a flick, it extended into a razor-sharp blade. Scott stared. Bernard raised an eyebrow. “…Why?” Scott asked. “Emergency situations,” Curtis said quickly. “Past Santas got tangled in reins. Sleigh rigging. Needed to cut free.” Scott slowly nodded. “Good thinking… I guess. Well boys, I’ve got some last-minute preparations to make.” He clapped Curtis on the shoulder and exited. Bernard waited until the doors closed. “Alright,” he whispered. “What’s really going on?” Curtis’s smile vanished. “We found Judy.” Bernard relaxed. “That’s great news.” Curtis shook his head. “She was tied up. Said she had been there for months. Ambushed by a human.” Bernard froze. “Months? So, whoever we saw around Thanksgiving before she disappeared…” “Wasn’t Judy,” Curtis finished. Bernard clinched his fist. “I knew there was something off about her.” Bernard paused for a moment. “We need to do inventory, see what is missing.” “Already done,” Curtis replied. “Nothing was taken.” “They weren’t stealing? Then what was this imposter after?” Bernard’s eyes widened. “You don’t think…” “That the infiltrator was after Santa,” replied Curits. “It’s possible.” “This is big.” “Do you think we should cancel Christmas just in case?” Curtis questioned. Bernard shook his head firmly. “Christmas cannot be canceled.” “Then do we tell Santa?” “No,” Bernard said after a beat. “Not without certainty. He’s under enough pressure right now.” Curtis hesitated. “He could be vulnerable out there.” “He will be protected with the enhancements you have made for him, Also, he won’t be alone.” Bernard tapped a console. “The E.L.F.S. unit will shadow Santa all night. At a distance. We don’t want him to know he may be in danger so he can focus on delivering the gifts. Christmas depends on it.” Curtis frowned. “If the E.L.F.S. are with Santa all night, that leaves the North Pole exposed.” “There is no greater priority than Santa,” Bernard replied. Curtis nodded… then asked quietly, “If someone takes Scott out… and puts on the suit… does the clause still apply?” Bernard looked away. “I hope,” he said softly, “we never have to find out.”

It was the night before Christmas in Angel Grove. Within a shopping mall, Bulk and Skull, the two members of the Junior Police Force, were patrolling. They were walking around the interior of the mall, looking for any signs of trouble. “Man, this bites.” Skull said. “What’s wrong?” Bulk asked. “Why did Lieutenant Stone pick us to do guard duty on Christmas Eve? I bet everyone in Angel Grove is having a good time, while we’re stuck here. I mean, who is going to steal on Christmas?” Skull asked. “Did you see ‘How the Grinch Stole Christmas’?” Bulk asked. “Yes.” Skull said. “Well, there you go. People will steal stuff on Christmas.” Bulk said. “But didn’t the Grinch become a good guy in the end?” Skull asked. “Look, the point is, were here to protect the mall. Think of it as the perfect opportunity to impress Lieutenant Stone. We can show him we’re reliable, capable, and ready for anything. Between the two of us, no one will rob the place.” Bulk said. “But what if Santa Claus finds out I’m not asleep? He might skip my house.” Skull said. “I’m sure Santa Claus will understand you’re doing this for the greater good. Look, we’re only here for three hours. Once we’re done, we can do whatever we want.” Bulk said. “Well, I hope nothing goes wrong.” Skull said. “Relax, Skull. What’s the worst that could happen?” Bulk asked. ****** Meanwhile, in a parking lot, Marv and Harry were sitting in a van. Harry was looking at the mall through binoculars. “Looks like we got a problem.” He spoke. “What is it?” Marv asked. “I just saw two cops walk past the doors.” Harry said. “Cops? Well, there’s goes our heist.” Marv said. “Not necessarily. They’re just kids. Well, teenagers that is.” Harry said. “Just as long as we’re not dealing with that brat again. But still, what are we going to do? We can’t rob the mall, if cops are around. Even if they are teenagers.” Marv said. “Which is why our top priority should be dealing with them first. All we have to do is break in, knock them out, and make it impossible for them to cause us trouble. After that, we can take whatever we want from the store.” Harry said. “You make it sound easy.” Marv said. “From what I saw, those two won’t put up much of a fight. Come on, let’s do this while the night is still young.” Harry said. Marv and Harry got out of van and were sneaking towards the mall. -------- So, here is my Christmas theme match for December. I hope everyone likes this match. Who do you think will win?

AN ALAN RICKMAN CHRISTMAS CAROL Hans Gruber reclined in his mahogany armchair, one slipper half-on, one half-off. He swirled a crystal glass of brandy in his hand. He wore black cashmere, tailored with immaculate precision, and his hair was slicked like he’d been born with perfect grooming instincts. He sat, calculating, amused with himself. “Tomorrow,” he said to the empty penthouse, “Nakatomi will fall to me. He smirked and drank his brandy, when he suddenly gagged. Because the air had shifted. There was a scent like burnt leather and gun smoke. “Hans.” Hans blinked. Before him stood Kevin, his old henchman, now very dead, very pale, and very much not as intimidating as he’d been in life. Kevin was now dressed in tattered tactical gear and wrapped in glowing chains. Hans dropped his glass. “…All right,” Hans stated, “I did tell the bartender to ease up on whatever was in the Christmas cocktail. Perhaps this is my punishment.” Kevin frowned. “No, Hans. I am here to warn you.” “You’re also dripping something charred onto my Persian rug,” Hans noted with displeasure. Kevin lifted a heavy, scorched chain. “It’s Hellfire residue. It doesn’t wash out.” Hans winced. “Yes, well then…” Kevin stepped closer, eyes wild. “Hans, I did not fix my life in time and now I am tormented. Doomed. Every second I relive my worst decisions, every bullet, every heist, every poor choice. I come to warn you, to stop you from sharing my fate. Tonight, you will be visited by three ghosts.” Hans pinched the bridge of his nose. “Kevin, this is absurd. I’m a thief, not Dickensian Ebenezer.” “Three ghosts, Hans,” Kevin repeated, a flame flared up on the walls behind him. “Repent. Redeem. Or be ruined.” A moment later, Hans jolted awake in his armchair with his heart pounding, His Persian rug was un-singed. “All right,” he whispered to himself. "No more brandy before a major corporate robbery. It muddles the senses.” He scrambled off to bed. A blinding, celestial spotlight ignited at precisely one o’clock. Hans bolted upright, and clutched his satin sheets. A figure lounged in front of him like a royal cobra in flamboyant villainous regalia. “Good evening,” the entity purred as he grinned with exquisite aristocratic disdain. “I am the Ghost of Christmas Past.” Hans stared at the ghost for a moment. “Why do you look like me?” “It was determined,” The spirit replied, “that the only face you might trust is one that is similar to your own. You are, after all, monumentally self-absorbed.” Hans scoffed. “I prefer ‘highly confident.’” “Splendid,” stated the ghost. “Why are you dressed that way?” Hans questioned. “I would have expected the Ghost of Christmas Past to have more of a holiday aesthetic, perhaps.” “In life I was the Sheriff of Nottingham many, many years ago.” Hans’s confusion only deepened. “Sherrif of Nottingham? Like in Robin Hood? I…” The Ghost of Christmas Past cut him off. “I’d rather not talk about him, and that isn’t why I’m here. We have a schedule to keep. Let’s excavate your soul.” “Huh?” The Ghost of Christmas Past flicked his hand, and the bedroom dissolved. Hans and the ghost stood in a cozy German sitting room from decades ago. Snow outside framed the humble abode that was sparsely decorated except for a small pine tree with modest tinsel. “It’s not hard to see where many of your selfish tendencies stem from,” The ghost observed. They watched as young Hanst held his older brother Simon’s toy train hostage. “There was never enough to go around,” Hans reasoned. “I can see that,” said the former Sheriff of Nottingham. “You convinced Simon to trade every gift he received for the cast-offs you didn’t want.” Hans shrugged with his arms folded. “Simon never understood value. I was teaching him.” “You robbed him of joy,” the spirit countered. “All because you coveted what was his.” “I was cultivating negotiation skills within him,” Hans insisted. “And by adulthood he was so adept at the art of deception you thrust upon him that you could no longer tolerate each other.” Hans frowned. “…Details.” The spirit sighed. “In life I too coveted everything, Gruber. Power, wealth, women, titles. I wanted what others cherished simply because they cherished it.” He stepped closer. “And it damned me.” Hans rolled his eyes. “If true happiness is so elusive, why not seize every advantage while one can?” The spirit stared at him long and hard. “Because grasping for everything leaves you with nothing worth holding.” Without waiting for Hans to respond, the Ghost of Christmas Past waved him back to his bedroom. “Expect the Ghost of Christmas Present,” he said flatly. Hans sat on his bed and then laid back to scowl at the ceiling. “This is why I dislike pageantry.” One minute after the Ghost of Christmas Past vanished, Hans smelled cinnamon. Cinnamon, cocoa, and… middle-aged disappointment. In stepped a spirit that looked like an older, weathered version of Hans wearing a bland suit and holding a mug like he’d rather it be whiskey. Hans blinked. “Why is every spirit me?” The spirit sighed. “I’m not you, although we do have similar features. I am the Ghost of Christmas Present. You can call me Harry. I am here to show you what true joy looks like in the here and now.” “I already understand joy,” Hans declared. “Tomorrow’s joy includes eight million dollars in bearer bonds.” Harry regarded Hans with annoyance but did not engage. “Come,” Harry finally said. “You visited your past with your brother. Let me show him now” “At least you are not dressed in discount renaissance fair garb,” noted Hans as he stepped closer to the spirit. “But your holiday attire isn’t much better.” “In life I was a managing director for a graphic design agency,” Harry explained. They teleported to a hideout in East Germany with stone walls, cheap garland, and one twinkling string of lights. Simon exchanged gifts with Katya, his second-in-command, and his lover. She kissed him. It was soft, honest. Hans squinted. “He could have stolen something nicer for her.” “He bought that gift,” Harry corrected. “Because she matters to him.” Hans stared at Simon’s smile with skepticism. “This is how he spends his holiday?” “Yes. With somebody he loves. Something you’ve rejected in favor of bank vaults,” stated Harry. “I am not against love,” Hans retorted. “I simply do not… participate.” “Maybe if you would, which is what Christmas is for, you could save your soul from eternal torment brought about by your villainy,” Hans was insulted, “I do not participate in villainy, either. I simply take what I want. I never intend to hurt anyone as long as they stay out of my way.” Harry rubbed his temples. “In life, when I betrayed my wife and had an affair, I told myself it was harmless too. But intention means nothing when the wound remains forever.” “What does that have to do with stealing money?” “It has everything to do with coveting what you don’t have instead of cherishing what is already right there.” Harry’s voice softened. “You deserve someone to share Christmas with, Hans. If you would only try. Let the season fill that emptiness in your heart.” Hans scoffed but his gaze lingered on Simon and Katya too long to hide the flicker of want until the images of them faded away and they returned to Hans’s bedroom. Harry nodded, resigned. “I hope the next spirit fares better.” With that, the Ghost of Christmas Present vanished. The lights died. A cold chill slithered through the bedroom. A tall, austere spirit with Hans’s face entered the room in black robes. a raised wand in his hand, and an accusatory expression on his face. Hans chuckled. “The worst dressed spirit so far. Does no one from your world take pride in their appearance?” “Silence,” The spirit intoned, unimpressed by Hans’s commentary. “We have a great deal of idiocy to correct.” He flicked his wand and the two stood in front of a store front of televisions that all ran the same news footage. “Nakatomi Plaza,” the broadcast boomed. “One year later, the legendary cop who thwarted a potential heist of the century, John McClane, will join us!” “Who?” Hans asked. Snape’s lip curled. “A buffoon. A calamity given a badge. A dreadful husband, an inattentive father, barely competent, and yet fate will crown him hero because of you.” “What? Is this the future?” The spirit exhaled with exasperation. “Yes. I am Severus Snape, former professor at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and current Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come. I assumed you would have picked up the pattern by now.” “So you are here to show me just one of many possible outcomes to scare me into not committing crimes during Christmas?” Hans assumed. “Ah,” the spirit exclaimed, “the hubris of the doomed. This isn’t a possibility, this is your future if you continue this foolish pursuit.” “Even if I fail tomorrow night, I can come up with a better plan,” said Hans. The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come glared at him with disdain. “I would not count on that!” They watched as the news broadcast replayed ground level footage of Hans’s fall to his death at the hands of John McClane. “There is no way to tell if that was actually me,” said Hans. Severus did not reply as the news anchor confirmed Hans’s identity and his role in the chaos at Nakatomi Plaza. Hans was visibly shaken. “Do any of my men go after McClane for revenge?” asked Hans. Severus laughed. “Revenge out of loyalty to what? A collection of self interested mercenaries with nothing to bind them but mutual greed?” Hans could not argue that point. “There is one who would eventually go after McClane in your name,” added Severus. “And if you have been paying attention it should not surprise you as to who it is.” Severus waved his wand around in the air and transported the duo to a truck stop in Quebec. Snape pointed to a helicopter in the air that contained both his brother, Simon, and Katya. He then directed Han’s vision to John McClane on the ground as he shot at a powerline to cause it to fall on the helicopter. The copter soon crashed and burned. “Both Gruber brothers destined to perish at the hand of the same mediocre police officer,” Snape declared. Hans tightened his fist in anger. “Now that I have seen this possibility there is no way I let that cowboy get the jump on either of us.” He turned his attention to the wreckage of the helicopter and felt a rare moment of vulnerability. “I can’t believe Simon would risk his life to go after my killer after all we had been through." “That’s not entirely true,” Severus admitted. “I am sure taking out McClane was a bonus, but it was mainly a distraction so he could pull off a major heist of his own.” Hans chortled and shook his head. “That sounds like the Simon I know.” “And yet even though he is a lowly criminal just like the rest of his family, yours is the soul that is of primary concern,” stated Snape. “Even after your death your actions will still negatively affect your brother and indirectly lead to his premature death to go along with your own.” “I appreciate the concern and the preview of what is to come. I will plan accordingly.” Severus snapped. “You don’t get it, your skull must be as thick as the Potter boy! There is only one way to avoid this fate. Honor the spirit of Christmas and what the holiday is meant for, to spread cheer and joy not pad your pockets with the gains of others,” “Are you implying that as long as I act good during Christmas, I am free and clear to do as I please for the rest of the year?” “You have a sharp tongue. But if you continue with comments like that I will use my magic to ensure your tongue loses the ability to make words,” Severus threatened. Hans decided to not push his luck The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come used his wand to bring them back to Hans’s bedroom one final time. “I will state this as plainly as I can, you have a slim window within the next day to turn your life around and avoid your pitiful fate. Don’t waste it, If you do you will die and your soul will be doomed forever,” The ghost tapped Hans on the forehead with his wand and Hans awoke in his bed alone. He thought over the last several hours, unsure if it was real or a holiday movie influenced dream. Only word came to mind as he mulled over what to do next. “Humbug.” Vote Hans if he still goes through with his Nakatomi heist Vote for the Three Ghosts of Christmas if you think they convinced him to change

*I'm Mister Green Christmas.* Deep within the heart of a violent volcano, next to an infernal lake of fire, seated on a blackened, brimstone throne, attended to by a horde of identical foot servants, sat the Summertime Commander, the Heat Miser. *I'm Mister Sun.* The Heat Miser was almost clownish in an appearance, with wild hair that flickered like an open flame. A big, bulbous red nose. And stark white face. But there was morning funny about the harsh expression he wore. The energy he radiated was red hot and hateful. He watched one of his underlings bounce around on a Pogo stick. He observed its whimsy for a moment, before blasting it with a beam of fire. The minion gave a Wilhelm scream as it fell tumbled into the eternal pit. Burning and forever falling deeper in the core of the earth. This act did bring a slight smile to the Heat Miser's crooked lips. *I'm Mister Heat Blister, Mister 101.* The weather wars were going well for Heat Miser, record heat waves and summer breezes were running rampant all across the world, even in Winter Time. His brother was weak and could barely even keep the glaciers at his Arctic Palace in a solid form. Heatie didn't watch TV often, but when he did, it was usually documentary footage of a Polar Bear swimming, looking to find someone land to rest, and finding no safe harbor. He would watch that shit on repeat. A stunning image that summed up his continued victory. *They call me Heat Miser.* Ember Lumen sat on the tourist bus carrying her, her boyfriend Wade, and several other world travelers. The unorthodox and adorable couple were traveling the world after the events of their movie, Elemental. They were taking turns picking their dream vacation spots. Wade picked first, taking his fiery bride to Atlantica. Ember looked at her phone fondly of a selfie they took with Sebastian the Crab, a notable underwater orchestra conductor. Today she wore a cute Teflon sundress, and circular sun glasses. She was seated in the last available seat and looked up at her bofo. He was bopping his head, grooving to the hip hop music in his Air-Pods, wearing the brightest, fluorescent pink tropical shirt ever created. He caught her staring and smirked, "Whatcha lookin at, Em?" "Just you, jughead," she went back to scrolling through these memories that she would treasure forever. The bus hit a bump, jostling her. She looked out the window to reveal the lush Hawaiian terrain they were traveling thru. They were on their way to Kīlauea, the hottest volcano in the world (if you measure by heat radiated in its lifetime). She felt good. There was nothing like a Green Christmas. *Whatever I touch, starts to melt in my clutch.* In addition to Hawaii being a perfect vacation destination for most normal people, there was additional perk if you were a firefolk, you could visit the opulent palace of the Heat Miser, maybe the most famous of all the firefolk (except for maybe the Flame Princess of the Land of Ooo). The two stood in the sweeping, majestic courtyard made of heated glass, taking pictures of all the flame-charred details. Ember looked like she was walking through the park, lackadaisical and carefree. What she didn't notice is that Wade, a water guy, was boiling. The water guys don't sweat, they steam, and he was evaporating by the minute, barely able to keep together his liquid form. She wasn't noticing, so he didn't bring it up, it was her dream to come here. And he wouldn't ruin that for the world, so he forced a smile as he snapped a photo of her posing with an ancient brimstone Gargoyle. *I'm too much.* Eventually, the two tourists made their way to a height of the tour, the Heat Miser's throne room. They were snapping photos on their phones like crazy, and accidentally left their flash on, which was the first offense the Heat Miser held against them. He observed them from his lofty throne, judgmental. He saw the water elemental presence as an affront to what his palace stood for. Strike 2. He did his best not to cause a scene, because he really didn't need a negative Yelp review on his tourist trap of a castle. The tour guide, who was also one of those little identical minions lead the Elemental couple past the velvet ropes of their designated walking area. And that's when strike 3 occurred. Wade, being a lovable oaf that he was, got a tickle in his nose from his own secretion of steam. He reared up with a "Ah!" Stumbled back with another "AH!" And finally let rip roar a final "AH-CHOO!" And since he was lighter than he usually was, after losing all that water weight via steaming, he flew back and errantly launched himself past the velvet rope, knocking down the posts that hold it up, and bumping into a decorative display stand. And sadly for him, the stand held the most precious object in the world to the Heat Miser. A crude ceramic pot, that a childhood miser had made for his dear mother, Mother Nature. He had collected it from her home when she passed, last year. He was actually surprised that she had kept it all this time. It was the object in this world he held most dear...and he helplessly watched, as it hit the floor and shattered. He stood up and let out an explosive order, liquid hot magma in the sea of fire below him rumbled with his rage, "SEIZE HIM!" The minions immediately jumped to detain Wade. "We shall throw him into the Royal hot tub, confine him there, where he will be trapped to soak my Royal bum for the rest of of his days!" "Whoopsie," Wade held up his hands as the minions surrounded him with polearms. Ember cursed in Firish pointed her finger right back at the Miser. "You can't do that! That's my boyfriend!" Ember was not used to people understanding the swear words that she said in her native language, but the Heat Miser returned her profanity, with his own Firish reply, "Well, well, well, you certainly have a dirty little mouth on you. Well, I should have already known it was filthy based upon who you choose to kiss." "Woah man," she started glowing brighter with her own unquenchable wrath, "that's like really racist!" "What's that now? I can't be racist, my brother is an iceman." He defended. "You're giving all firefolk a bad name with that attitude, Heat Miser." "Well, I was going to let you leave, but now I will have to punish you as well. By absorbing your heat into my own, so you can present while I soak my body in your boyfriend's fluids," he was smug, he was confident, he had no idea what was about to happen. Ember cranked up to a form of Fire Saiyan that not even the Heat Miser had obtained in his long life. She got so mad, she began to shine with purple flames, and a violent violet aura (this power is canon to the movie). "Too much," the Heat minions echoed.

Not too long ago, In your very own household... The frosty winter air gently blew against the window to your bedroom. Snuggled up in your favorite blanket, you are fast asleep in preparation for the day ahead. The night before Christmas had come and gone. It was Christmas morning at last. You and your brother had been looking forward to this day for many months now. You stayed up in all hours of the night in hopes that you would catch a glimpse of the Jolly Saint Nick, but alas, you missed him once again this year. Drifting off in your bed; your eyes grew heavier with each passing moment, and you fell asleep before the clock struck midnight. Now you would have to wait a whole other year before you could see the big man himself. It probably was not your fault for how tired you were on that night before Christmas. From a candlelight service at your church to seeing homes decorated with glistening lights, it was a long night for sure. Your eyes were still closed tight on that Yuletide morning. More time would have probably passed with you fast asleep if it was not for the excited shouts that were coming from of your little brother. Your eyes open fast to see him jumping out of his bed. He runs around the room that is filled with yours and his toys. Your eyes slowly adjust to the early morning light. A moment or two passed before you remember that it is Christmas day. Throwing your blanket off, you jump out of bed and hop over your toys. Despite missing out on your chance to see Old Saint Nick, your run to the living room to see what he had brought on that Christmas Eve night. Your brother is already there trying to see what all gifts were waiting under that tree. As your eyes move across the room, you see that the stockings over the fireplace were full of all sorts of treats. You soon catch sight of the plate that was left for the jolly man himself. Only crumbs remained where the delicious cookies once sat, and the glass of milk was completely empty. Even the carrots that were left for the reindeer had a nibble or two, and it appeared that there were boot marks on the floor that led straight to the fireplace. You walk closer to the tree to see gifts both big and small. As your excitement grows, you see your brother jumping up and down. While you see your name on a couple of the tags, you start to lean down to reach for one of the neatly wrapped gifts. Your excitement grew with each passing moment. Before your childlike hand can touch one of those gifts that sat under the tree, you hear your mom and dad stumbling out of their room. You stop to look back as they slowly walk in. The excitement slowly dims after hearing them speak. "No opening gifts until we have our breakfast!" Your mom says while heading toward the kitchen. "Oh man!" Your brother moans. "Hey, Santa can always come take these back if you don't behave!" Your dad interjects. Both you and your Iittle brother slowly make your way to the kitchen. It was as if you were dealt a defeating hand as you leave behind the colorful gifts that were brought to you that night before. Your dad puts on a pot of that Folgers original coffee while your mom gets a breakfast casserole cooked. Glasses of orange juice are poured for you and your brother while you all sit around the table and wait for that dish that you have had every Christmas morning for as long as you can remember. As everyone waits for that casserole to cook, your dad heads back into that same living room. He prepares a warm and cozy fire that heats up the entirety of the house. Your eyes continue to look back at the living room to see if your gifts are still there. Soon your mom and dad join you two at the table to sit around while everyone waits for the breakfast to cook. The timer goes off and the casserole is ready to be served. You notice your brother at the edge of his seat as your mom scoops up some of that casserole on a spoon and drops it onto his plate. Your dad makes a joke or two before taking a sip of that hot cup of coffee. Everyone starts eating away at the breakfast that smelled. It was a breakfast far different than what you got on any other day of the week. This breakfast was not of sugary cereal and a cold glass of milk, it was prepared by your parents in advance. While both you and your brother enjoy the taste of that warm breakfast, you both have lingering eyes that keep moving toward the living room. Your dad sits back with his newspaper in hand. Even though he acts as if he is reading the sport's page, he keeps a watchful eye over his two mischievous boys. A grin is on his face as he reflects on those Christmas mornings he had when he was your age. All the while, your mom is enjoying the breakfast that she made. She sees the excitement that both of you have, and her heart is warmed by the excitement that you both share. As you and your brother finish off the remaining crumbs of that delicious breakfast dish, you both start to get ready to head toward the living room. Before you both can leave the kitchen, you hear your mom call out to wait just a moment so that she can get her camera ready. You and your brother try not to moan in fear that Santa may come back to take back any of these glorious gifts. Once she walks back into that warm living room, the excitement completely takes over as you reach for a gift. You are suddenly stopped from opening that first gift you see as you are appointed the position of handing out the gifts on that Christmas Day. It was a position that you did not necessarily want, but it was one that came with a ton of responsibility. The old family radio comes to life as your dad tries to find a station that played all those famous Christmas carols. You start off with handing out the stockings that were filled. Your little brother digs through his and finds all sorts of goodies. Inside his stocking were candy canes, chocolates, and trinkets too. As for your dad, he had a razor and a toothbrush. Your mom on the other hand had a couple small items but nothing that was fun. They were nothing fancy or exciting, but they were enough to fill her stocking. If you did not know any better, it was as if Santa brought all the good stuff for only your brother and you. You soon get to the gifts and stand back to watch as your brother rips through that neatly covered wrapping paper. Within his first present he finds his favorite dinosaur. He jumps to his feet while holding a tyrannosaurus rex over his head. While his excitement only grows, your parents are both filled with joy that you do not quite understand at this point in your life. You look back at your brother, who is already playing with brand new his t-rex. Your dad clears away the shreds of that wrapping paper as if he were a vulture that just found a new pile animal remains. You hand out the next gift to your dear old dad. He opens the gift and finds a new package of boring white socks. You begin to wonder what your parents even ask Santa for on this special day. After your mom opens a present but are far too distracted by what awaits. You soon are faced with your first present of Christmas morning. Your heart is pounding ever so fast as your eyes are set on one sitting at the front. You sit down in front of the tree while your family watches you tear through that colorful wrapping paper. Overcome with joy, you cannot believe what you see. It is an action figure of Dash Rendar from that video game that you have enjoyed playing since your last birthday party. You are excited as Santa came through on this Christmas Day. While you start to open that toy, you hear your mom say that there are several other gifts under the tree that still need to be opened. One by one, the gifts are given out to your family. Your little brother gets all kinds of dinosaurs and trucks. He also has an assortment of clothes and books. Your mom and dad get a couple different things, but none of them look particularly fun. As for you, well, you get some things big and small. Along with Dash Rendar, you also received his trusted ship known as the Outrider. Just like your brother, you also get a couple books and some boring old clothes. As you and your brother ripped through wrapping paper to see your gifts, your mom was taking photos on her small polaroid camera. All the while your dad continued his duties of plucking the shards of wrapping paper off the living room floor. At that moment you did not know, but you were making memories that would go with you wherever you go. Your youthful mind would cherish these moments as the laughter and joy was shared by you and your family. You look back at the stash of toys that are waiting to be opened. Sitting alongside your Dash and his Outrider; there is an Autobot known as Ironhide that is looking to join your prized Optimus Prime. A box containing the figure of Destro sits on top of a coffee table as he is seeking to help your battered Cobra Commander in his efforts of world domination. Your young mind starts forming what adventures will be had once you finally free those small plastic figures from their boxes. It came at last for that final present that was sitting behind the tree. Your mom makes a comment that this gift was from your dear old grandparents. The present itself is lined with a nice bright ribbon while your hand begins to tremble over the last Christmas present. Your mom stands over you to take a couple photos of your opening that final Christmas gift. As you start to take off the ribbon, you watch your dad get ready to scoop up the remains of that wrapping paper. The paper starts to rip, and your eyes open wide. You see yet another Star Wars figure from your favorite Star Wars movie. Your dear old grandparents were able to get you that big monstrous Wampa that you have always wanted. You smile from ear to ear as you hold up your toy Wampa. This Christmas was fun indeed, and now it was time to start playing with your gifts. Before you could play with your new action figures, your dad reminds you of the games that you all play. You all sit around and play a game or two as a family. There are a couple laughs that are shared, your mind is still on the adventures that you will have with all your new toys. Once the games end, your brother goes down for a nap. Your dad is also taking a snooze on his comfy old recliner while A Christmas Story is playing on that family television. As everything starts to slow down, you have only just begun the adventures that you have been dreaming up in your mind. You race to your room to pick up that Fischer Price castle and start to make your way to that backyard door. As you are heading that way, you scoop up your new toys for an adventure in the snow. Before you can reach that patio door, your mom stops you dead in your tracks. "What do you think you are doing?! You must be out of your ever-lovin’ mind!" She shouts in her furious mother tone. "Go get your coat, your scarf, and your beanie! And don't even think about coming back inside before wiping off the snow from your pants! If you track in any snow, oh so help me, I will…" You want to say, "Ohhhh, mom!", but you do not want to risk waking up your snoozing dad. As fast as you can, your slip into all your warm winter clothes. Finally, you make it outside in that slushy white snow. In your mind, you are no longer in your own backyard but on the planet Hoth. You bring along your newest toys along with some of your old favorite ones. While the stickers have not been placed on your new Outrider, you decide that the adventure must happen before time passes away. Luke and Dash travel in the Outrider over the frozen tundra of Hoth. Within that Fischer Price castle, Darth Vader is meeting with Destro and Megatron about taking over the galaxy. Optimus Prime, Han Solo, Chewbacca, and your new Autobot known as Ironhide have traveled to their castle to face off against the evil threats. Optimus and the group soon find themselves surrounded by the evil forces under Vader’s command. After Han Solo calls for backup in the form of Luke and Dash, they wait patiently while the Outrider takes a spin around the frozen landscape that is your own backyard. You make noises with your mouth to reflect the ship’s engine come out of hyperspace. You almost whistle while blaster sounds come out of your lips. The Outrider flies over obstacles in the form of you and your brother’s outdoor playset. With the castle in sight, a new challenge erupts after your imagination goes wild. Dash’s prized ship faces damage in the form of an attack by none other than Darth Vader himself. The ship crash lands in the snow-covered world. After Luke and Dash emerge to travel toward the castle of Darth Vader, Megatron and Destro; the duo hears a terrible sound. You make a growling sound as the big and carnivorous wampa emerges out of a snow-covered cave that is your dog’s food bowl. Before Luke can confront the hairy beast, Dash steps in between him and the wampa. With your best impressions of the characters, you begin to dive deeper into the story that you are creating. In your impression of Luke Skywalker, “What are you doing, Dash?” As Dash, your voice deepens as you turn him to face the Jedi Knight, “Go be a hero, kid. Save your pals. I can take on this wampa all by myself.” There you have it on this cold Christmas morning. In a snow-covered yard, your imagination has run wild. With new toys and stories, there are thrills to be had. Within your hands, you create a battle between Dash Rendar of your favorite game taking on the wampa of your all-time favorite movie. The story could go either way as your imagination never stops moving. From Saturday morning fun to this cold Christmas morning, what will be the outcome of this story that you have created?

Callum Drift vs Buddy the Elf A somber mood has enveloped the North Pole this year, what should have been the jolliest time of the year has now turned into the most somber, bittersweet time of the year. It’s 3 days until Christmas and the man who’s responsible for bringing so much of it’s cheer, won’t be able to man his sleigh this year… “How is he doc?” “He’s… stable. Honestly with how severe that crash was it’s a miracle we haven’t lost him already. But for the time being, we’re gonna have to keep him under and hope for the best.” On the surface Callum Drift was calm and composed, accepting what the elf doctor told him with a stern expression. But underneath that unflappable facade, Callum’s emotions were a maelstrom. Fluctuating between anger, sadness, hopelessness, and then finally guilt. The crushing weight of guilt was now coursing through him as despite his centuries of experience as the big man’s security detail, he had failed when he needed Callum the most. “Can I see him for a moment?” Nooooooo! Santaaaaaa! You can’t leave us like thiiiiissssss! Why couldn’t it have been me insteeeeeeaaaaaddddd!!?!?!” “Uh sir? Your one hour visitation is up. Also they can hear you all the way on the next floor. Why don’t we get you to the cafeteria, maybe some food will cheer you up?” The elf nurse awkwardly lifted the still weeping man from the motionless patient and as best she could guided him down the hallway, the man still wailing obnoxiously all the way. Callum Drift barely acknowledged the odd sight though, his gaze not leaving the figure in the bed, his longtime client, leader, and oldest friend now currently hooked up to so many wires and hoses, all just to keep him alive a little longer. “I’ll be right outside Drift, just don’t take too long. I got a feeling you-know-who is gonna want a word with you very shortly.” Callum Drift nodded at the doctor before striding over to the stand beside the comatosed man. For a moment he said nothing, just staring at the pale, unmoving face of the man he had given his whole life to protect. The steady beepings of the machine next to them being the only thing assuring Callum that his charge was still at least breathing. “Hey old friend. I… I’m so sorry. I-I know you needed me elsewhere but I just… I just knew I never should have left your side. Somehow I just knew it… And I’m also sorry that I even thought about leaving all this behind. That it took a misadventure with some dickhead hacker to remind why it’s so important that we do this job. For all those people who still believe in decency, love, and compassion for our fellow men. And women of course! I’m not a sexist! Anyways what I’m trying to say is this: I’m gonna do everything I can to keep this ship running until you get back on your feet.” “CALLUM DRIFT TO THE MAIN OFFICE PLEASE! MRS. CLAUS NEEDS TO SEE YOU!” “Alright wish me luck Nick. I know I’ll see you soon.” Callum Drift marched with purpose towards the main office, leaving the still unconscious Saint Nicholas behind. He knew what he was being summoned for and he was more than ready to meet this challenge head on! On his word as commander of ELF(Enforcement Logistics and Fortifications) he vowed that he would carry out his fallen friends duties- “Hey! Mr. Drift! Is that you Mr. Drift?” A-hem. As commander of ELF he vowed to make certain his fallen friends duties- “Hey Mr. Drift over here!” He vowed his fallen friends duties- “Hey Mr. Drift can’t you hear me?” -and make sure that Christmas will- “Hey! Hey! Mr. Drift! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey! Hey!” “WHAT? What do you want?” “It’s me, Buddy! Buddy the Elf! Don’t you remember me?” “Who?” “C’mon you know me! I was the elf who discovered he actually human, went on a grand adventure to find my dad, and now I’m the official head of the North Pole-Human Relations Committee!” “Huh?” Callum looked over this peculiar looking individual standing in front of him: he was a tall, lanky, and very awkward looking person, with stereotypically simple elvish clothing that looked strange upon a adult human male’s body. He also had a very goofy looking smile that kinda infuriated Callum, given the seriousness of their current situation. “You… you were the crying guy down at the ward weren’t you?” “Yeah sorry about that. I was trying to be strong for the other elves but it’s just… it’s Santa man, sniff, sniff how could this have happened to him? Waaaaaahhhh-hu-hu-hu!” “Woah okay Buddy, now’s really not the time to cry hug on my shoulder-“ “I just can’t believe this is happening! Waaaaaahhhh!” Those walking by the hallway at the time had a most amusing sight of the usually stern and no nonsense Callum Drift awkwardly holding up a sobbing Buddy the Elf. Buddy even had the gaul to blow his nose right next to Callum’s shoulder. “Alright, alright, look we’re gonna be fine okay? Everything’s… yeah everything is gonna be just fine.” “You really think so sir?” “Yes I do. Now could you please let me have my space back?” “Right yes sir! And Mr. Drift sir, I just want you to know that I will do my part to help save Christmas this year! For Santa!” “Okay and on that note I really have to go, I have a top secret meeting with the head lady in charge-“ “Oh we’re gonna have a secret meeting with Mrs. C?” “I’m having a secret meeting with Mrs. Claus. I’m sure you they could use your help down in toy testing lab or something so why don’t you-“ “BUDDY THE ELF TO THE MAIN OFFICE AS WELL PLEASE! MRS. CLAUS NEEDS TO SEE YOU AS WELL!” “Well would you look at that? They need me at the secret meeting too!” “Really? You?” “We’ll come on partner! Let’s not waste time standing around! Get a move on!” A very confused and flabbergasted Callum Drift reluctantly followed Buddy the Elf up the next floor, where the Main Office awaited them. Hopefully with some good answers to several very important questions. “Hello gentlemen. Glad you could make it.” “Hi Mrs. C! It’s been too long, how have you been?” “Oh I’m fine Buddy thanks. How’s Jovie?” “She’s great! She’s and little Susie are visiting her grandparents for this Christmas!” “Hello ma’am. How are you holding up after all that’s happened?” “Just barely Callum. But Christmas is just around the corner and I can’t afford to break down now. So please have a seat, we have much to discuss.” Both Callum and Buddy took said seats in front of the desk of Mrs. Clause. Both wondering what the North Pole’s matriarch summoned them for. “Okay so ever since news broke out that Santa Claus wasn’t gonna be able to fly this year, all everyone has been asking me is how are we gonna deliver the presents now? Who can possibly fly Santa’s sleigh now?” Callum Drift sat up a little straighter as he realized the direction this conversation was going. Mentally getting himself prepared for the big question that he knew was coming. “Those were not easy questions to answer, I know my husband left very big boots to fill, and I can’t imagine the kind of pressure that’d fall upon whoever I asked. But luckily I think I know the exact right person for the job.” Callum nodded his head at her words, a small smile starting to form on his face. “Someone I know I can trust, someone that knows how important Christmas is to the world, someone that in my heart I believe my husband would’ve wanted for the job. Callum…” Callum Drift stood up and opened his mouth to accept the offer- “I’m counting on you to help Buddy be ready in time for Christmas.” (Record player scratch) “…Come again ma’am?” “Gasp Mrs. C, are you telling me I get to be Santa Claus this year?” “That’s right Buddy, it’s gonna be up to you to make sure all the good children get their gifts this Christmas.” Buddy the Elf screamed like a little girl and ran around the office jumping and shouting with joy, like a kid who was just promised their favorite candy for dessert. Callum Drift glared at the unprofessionalism of the elf before he turned back to address Mrs. Claus. “Ma’am this is a joke right? Buddy the Elf? You want to entrust Buddy the Elf with the most important assignment known to man? How in the world did you come to that conclusion?” “Now Callum I know Buddy is a bit, excitable. But I figured his position as North Pole-Humanity liaison would make him more familiar with the outside world then most of us at the North Pole, plus him and Papa Elf helped design Santa’s Sleigh so it wouldn’t take him long to familiarize himself himself with it.” “Thank you much Mrs C!” Buddy the Elf had finally finished his celebration and came over to talk to Mrs. Claus again. “I won’t let you down! I promise to be the best Santa Claus I can be-“ “No! Sorry but I’m putting my foot down here! Ma’am if anyone is qualified to take on the responsibilities of filling in for Nick, it’s me! Not some overgrown, undisciplined, squeaky voiced manchild who is treating this assignment like it’s a joke!” “…You know I’m standing right here and can hear every hurtful word you’re saying right?” “Look Buddy, I’m sorry but you are not the right guy for this job. I am! Go back to doing whatever the heck you usually do and leave this to the professionals.” “Well excuse me Mr. Grumpy pants but I think you have a pretty big character flaw yourself.” “And what, pray tell is that?” “Christmas spirit and cheer. You have been nothing short of a negative Nancy ever since we got here, and Santa has told me multiple times that the most important thing to being Santa is having Christmas cheer no matter how hard the job might get.” “Buddy we are smack dab in of a code red in just days before Christmas! Sorry if I am a little too stressed about that then in being a happy go lucky fool like you.” “Well some people would argue in these situations maintaining your Christmas spirit is more important than ever! I know Santa would think so!” “Listen here you childish little-“ “Okay enough! Both of you sit down!” Both men reluctantly obeyed Mrs. Claus and sat, Buddy briefly stuck his tongue out at Callum before looking away. Callum rolled his eyes at the other man’s immaturity. “Admittedly I hadn’t considered that you would want this position Callum. But in the interest of fairness how about I make this a competition: you’re both familiar the Santa Claus Simulation Course right?” “Yes ma’am. It’s a simulated town that Nick uses to practice gift deliveries every year to keep himself warmed up for Christmas.” “Papa Elf helped design the course.” “Okay good, since we still got a few days before Christmas I’ll give each of you a chance to show how good you would be on the job. You’ll each run the simulation and whoever can delivery the most presents in the shortest time with alerting any of the alert systems, will be given the role as Santa. Sound fair?” Both men agreed on this condition. They both then stood and made their way to exit the room, but before leaving Buddy the Elf smiled and held out his hand to the unamused Callum Drift. “May the best replacement Santa win.” “Oh don’t worry, I always win.” With that Callum Drift brushed past Buddy without shaking his hand. “Geez, who stuck a candy cane up his a-“ ************************************ Merry Christmas y’all! So I got inspired after watching Red One(2024) with my family and then watching some clips of Elf on YouTube. Basically both Callum Drift and Buddy the Elf are gonna run a Santa Claus Simulator Course where they must deliver gifts to several houses without setting off alarms. Whoever delivers the most gifts in the shortest time wins the right to be Santa Claus this year. Who wins?

NEW CHARACTER RUMBLE! Vititate is bored with galactic affairs and goes to Earth for the hell of it. He comes across a house with a little girl running from a deranged Santa. He decides to give himself a challenge and fight the deranged Santa without force powers. Carrie Ann has to escape from the Vititate while he's fighting 'Santa.'

On a frosty Christmas Eve, beneath the starry light, Two mighty Santas prepared to fight. Slay Santa, fierce, with weapon in hand, A demon’s grin spreading fear through the land. Violent Santa arrived with his hammer’s might, A warrior’s heart, ready to set things right. Their eyes met, sparks flew, the tension grew, As the clock struck twelve, the cold wind blew. In darkest of night, Christmas cheer was no more, So began the clash of these giants of folklore, Blood flew in the air as they traded blow after blow, This Christmas we would long for a ho ho ho! In that silent moment, the world held its breath, Awaiting the clash between life and death, For in this legend, the fight’s not the end, But the start of a story yet to transcend.

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Not a living creature was stirring, not even a mouse; There were not stockings hung by the chimney with care, And there were certainly no hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there. No, I am afraid the house that we are seeing belongs to a man with a disdain the Yuletide season. His hatred for the season was considered a myth, And he took away joy and good tidings without much reason. If you were to guess, this man was none other than Ebenezer Scrooge. This very tale takes place on the night before Christmas in the city that never sleeps. While you think you may know the story of the man who despised all things of joy and laughter, you may not know what all he did in that Christmas Eve night. The old cold-hearted miser cursed to himself for allowing that silly and bumbling Bob Cratchit for taking a day off. Oh, Bob would surely make up for the day that was lost. He would pay to make up for the money that Scrooge would not see on that lousy Christmas Day. He cursed and groaned until a cold wind blew into his home. While he cursed and he pouted, his thoughts quickly moved to his dear ol' nephew named Fred. Oh, Fred was an optimistic young man full of joy and hope. He loved the Christmas season and sought to spread that joyous wonder to his old bitter uncle. Always a young fool, the old Scrooge thought of his young nephew. If only he would grow wise and learn what truly mattered in this world. Money was all that mattered to the greedy old miser. He felt money added to your power, and made you a bit wiser. Now the old Scrooge despised the Christmas season. He loathed all the lights and the songs. His hate for the season did not need a reason. He did not feel he had a need to right any wrongs. If he could, the old man would stop the holidays from coming. The old man knew all too well that there was no way to stop Christmas from coming. He was not a green furry Grinch with a heart two sizes too small. While Scrooge was a man that was cunning, he had no desire to go out after nightfall. Oh, Scrooge was going to stay alone and keep to himself on this cold winter's night. While others may have enjoyed the celebrations, he desired for this day to be kept out of sight. There were very few things that Scrooge hated more than the Yuletide celebration. As his television set blared to life, the old Scrooge flipped through the channels with much fury. Every channel had a song or two for Christmas on their station. He flipped through the channels in a hurry. Soon, the old man found a channel that he always enjoyed. It was the channel of the boring old stock market. He smiled from ear-to-ear while watching stocks rise and fall. As I said before, there were very few things that he hated more than the Christmas season, but there was one that was close to the same level of hatred. Scrooge screamed and he shouted when one commercial came on. It was a commercial that had found its way on his screen more than he cared to see. Three to four men that were dressed in the oddest attire and spoke of ghostly apparitions. Oh, Scrooge did not care for the Ghostbusters. He did not care for them one bit. In fact, he hated the fame that they had gained and wished only for the worst on those four men. Before the commercial could reach its end, the old man turned off the television set and threw remote across the room without much regret. With the Silent Night underway, the stingy and bitter Scrooge put on his battered old robes. He scurried to his room in hopes of sleeping through this dreadful night. It was not long until he felt a chill pulling on his earlobes. The old miser jumped out of his bed in a fright. He heard a sound that was as dreadful as the joyous songs that he came to hate. A ghostly figure appeared in his room that was only visible by the pale light of the winter's moon. Entwined in chains and money boxes, the ghostly figure arrived not a moment too late. Scrooge rubbed his cold dark eyes to have a clear sight. He could not believe what visitor came into his room on that night of Christmas Eve. It was none other than the spirit of his old business partner, Jacob Marley. While the old miser was afraid of the spirit of his once close friend, he was far too petrified to leave. The ghost of Jacob Marley spoke with an agonizing voice. He was wrapped in chains of his own making from a life filled with greed. In life, he felt that he had no other choice. In death, he longed for the day that he could be out of these chains and finally be freed. He warned the old greedy Scrooge not to be selfish and cruel. Alas, the old man did not care for these warnings from his once close friend. Marley warned the old miser that nothing would be enough to break free from this curse, not even a jewel. There would no paradise to this suffering as it knew no end. On this very night, the ghost of Jacob Marley warned the old Scrooge, “You will be haunted… by Three Spirits… Without their visits, you cannot hope to shun the path I tread” Once the ghost of Jacob Marley departed from his sight, the old Scrooge found the strength in his legs. He walked down the hall and toward his study. The old miser sat back in his chair with the thought of drinking some kegs. His mind was astray while he felt a bit cruddy. He trembled and shook while turning on the television. Frightened by the warning of his old business partner, the old miser heard a sound that brought a promise of good tiding. With much reluctance, the old greedy man made a fateful decision. "Bah! Humbug!" The Old Scrooge yelled while dialing the number to New York's very own Ghostbusters. Oh, the spirits outside are frightful But the Ghostbusters are so delightful Since we've got no one else to call Let them bust, let them bust, let them bust Sitting at her desk, Janine hoped and prayed that the phone would not ring. She did not understand why Egon insisted that they work on this Christmas Eve night. She would rather be anywhere but here in this old fire station. The night was slow and there was a promise that they would call it quits before the clock struck midnight. She rolled her eyes when the Ghostbuster with large spectacles said that not even spirits take holiday vacations. Even with his insistence to stay throughout the entire night, the others finally were able to make the compromise that if a call does not come in before Christmas, they would all leave for the holiday. Janine watched the clock while also keeping an eye out for the Ugly Little Spud known as Slimer. Let us take a look at the Mean Green Ghost. He had an appetite like no other while causing mischief and mayhem everywhere he went. Slimer was loathed by many but became a mascot of sorts for the Ghostbusters of New York. With this cold Christmas season, he searched and searched for all the holiday treats that were left out for grabs. Venkman laughed as he watched Egon grow pink in the face after the Onionhead ghost took a bite out of his holiday delights. As I said before, Slimer was loathed by many, but he became part of the family for the team of Ghostbusters. Winston sat back in his chair while listening to the jingles and the jangles of an old radio. He longed to be with his family during Christmas but knew that a job was a job at the end of the day. He closed his eyes and thought about that holiday dinner that would surely be waiting for him. He felt that his mother's cooking would surely make him feel like a winner. He enjoyed all the traditions that he had on Christmas Day and usually partook in singing carol or two. Winston closed his eyes and dreamed of the smell of that delicious pie that his mother was probably baking in the oven at this very moment. Now ol' Venkman on the other hand was not one for the traditional Christmas routines. He hummed along with the songs that were played on Winston’s small radio. His mind and his thoughts were on the one that waited for him back at his home. Dana promised a gift that would bring out the spirit of the holidays. While Peter and Winston argued with Ray and Egon, they decided to come to compromise on that Christmas Eve night. Peter waited for that clock to strike midnight so that he could rush home to see what was waiting for him by his favorite gal, Dana. Ray, on the other hand, quite enjoyed spending the holidays with his fellow Ghostbusters. He saw them as more than just friends as they were brothers in proton-packs. He hoped and wished that a call would come through so that he and his brothers would go out to see what ghost or ghoul would come out on this night. He looked over at Winston who was singing along with the old Christmas Carols and smiled while Venkman tried to hum alongside the old tunes. As for Egon Spengler, well he was not much into the holiday traditions. He did not see the science or logic behind such nonsense. Ol’ Egon did not share the same interests that others had on this special day. His research and his work are what filled him the most. He felt that this night would bring the promise of a haunting or two. With the clock getting closer than ever to that midnight hour, Egon did not know what else to do. He glared at the clock as his mouth was about to sour. He looked over a collection of spores, molds, and fungus to keep his mind from wondering before the coming midnight hour. Before the clock struck midnight, the phone rang with a screech. Janine scowled as she reached for that blasted old phone. “Ghostbusters, what do you want?” Janine answered in the most unenthusiastic tone. She could not believe her ears as she heard the cursing of a naughty old man. If it was not for the Christmas season, she would have been a little less kind. She gave the information to her fellow Ghostbusters. Ray smiled from ear to ear while Winston pouted with his fleeting holiday cheer. As for the others, Egon was relieved that there was a haunting on this Christmas Eve while Venkman was disappointed that he was not get to see the gift that Dana had promised he would receive. So, this was a cold winter's night with snow all around. Many had either stayed indoors to avoid the brisk cold air, or had gone to bed in hopes that they would not miss a visit from old Saint Nick as he stopped by without much of a sound. Decorations were hanging and lights were glistening. The skies were clear with stars that were bright and twinkling. It was a night that was soothing without much of a fright. The Ghostbusters were going to try to bust these ghosts with all of their might. The sirens on the Ecto-1 flashed along with the hanging Christmas lights. They drove through the empty streets and headed to the mansion of the greedy old Scrooge. Venkman’s wonderous gaze fell upon a nice neighborhood as his eyes widen with each passing home. He made a comment or two about wanting to move to one of these houses with the lovely Miss Dana. As they approached the mansion of Ebenezer Scrooge, Peter cleared his throat while looking over the large home. Ego pulled out the P.K.E. Meter and saw that the readings were off the charts. Winston on the other hand, he was hoping that they did not lose their wits and their smarts. “A minute or two more and this guy would have been Scrooged.” Peter said with a with a triumphant grin. "How long did it take you to come up with that one?" Winston grumbled as he put his pack over his shoulders. Peter thought to himself and nodded. "Ah, car ride over here." He replied with a smirk. “Well, we are here now! Might as well make the most of it!” Ray said with a joyous smile. “Don’t look too excited, Ray.” Winston groaned before shaking his head. “I just have to remember that a job is a job.” “Keep your packs ready to go. Janine said that this Scrooge was going to be haunted by three spirits. This is not going to be a simple in and out.” Egon said before knocking on the door. The large door squeaked opened with a cloud of dust in the air. It seemed as if this mansion had not seen a decent cleaning in quite some time. Emerging from the cloud of dust, the team of Ghostbusters saw a thin old man with a cane in his hands. The old bitter man glared upon the team that he absolutely despised. Scrooge scoffed before asking a question that he already knew the answer to, “Bah! Humbug! Are you those silly Ghostbusters that are always on my television?” “Well, huh" Peter chuckled before giving off a mischievous grin. "That is who you called.” He said sarcastically. "Let's get one thing straight, I do not care for any of you! Not one bit!" The old Scrooge growled as his lips curled over his stained yellow teeth. "We can be on a merry little way then and you can call us back in a couple of days if you would like." Peter continued saying in that sarcastic tone. "Hopefully those naughty old ghosts do not give you too many problems." "Wait!" Scrooge sighed before shaking his head. The man closed his piercing dark eyes before lowering head in humiliation. "There is no reason for you to go. I called you for a reason, now do what you fools do and get rid of the ghosts that are supposed to come!" Scrooge said while gritting his yellow-stained teeth. "Very well then but with it being Christmas Eve and all, our normal rates will be a tad bit higher." Peter said with a slight nod. "Oh, and Ray here would love some hot cocoa with some extra whipped cream if you have any." Ray’s eyes went blank as he shook his head at Venkman. Winston tried his best to hide his smile while Egon prepared to head inside the dusty old mansion. "Just get on with it!" Scrooge growled and scoffed while the team sauntered into his mansion. **************** There you have it! Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the Scrooge's house, The Ghostbusters were stirring for the Three Ghosts of Christmas! Merry Christmas to all, and Happy New Year to You!

Hope everyone is having a great day, and is excited for a new year to come. Or else....

Since we got new Christmas characters, and Christmas is tomorrow, I might as well make this match. Which team will win this fight?

ChristmasCon wasn’t on my list this year. Normally this time of year I’d be in the workshop, checking my Naughty & Nice list, catching up on the elves' latest prototypes, checking my Naughty & Nice List again, or—my personal favorite—prepping my palate for all the cookies and milk I was about to taste from around the world. December was a busy time of year. But this year was different. A troubling message had made its way to the North Pole, you see. A mysterious group calling themselves the Canon Santas had gained notoriety online, declaring that Christmas had become “diluted” and “misinterpreted.” Worse, they claimed I was a fraud—a mascot created by corporations to sell toys. Me, a fraud! I'd been tuning it out for months, but eventually the noise became too much. I found how these naysayers had organized a panel at ChristmasCon titled "Santa Claus: Exposing the Impostor". And hundreds, nay, thousands of "fans" were scheduled to attend. I’ve been called worse, of course. But with how many were going to be there, that was concerning. What concerned me even more was what the elves had discovered on social media. The Canon Santas weren’t just skeptics or disgruntled fans. They were actively encouraging people to boycott Christmas traditions until their version of “canon” was officially adopted. They were holding online campaigns targeted to children. Children! They were starting to question me, the joy of the season was crumbling because of online conspiracy theories and a fake story of declaring a "true, canon Santa." I had to step in. Not to argue. Not to defend myself. But to stop the season of giving from turning into one of division. So here I was, boots crunching on a thin carpet of faux snow, walking into a convention hall buzzing with dark, mean-spirited holiday cheer. The air in the hall smelled of peppermint, pine, and plastic—an odd combination, but one I’d grown used to over the years. Booths lined the walls, selling everything from vintage ornaments to custom Santa suits. My coat was freshly brushed, my gloves pristine. A few people paused to glance my way, likely assuming I was just another cosplayer among the crowd. Twinkling lights dangled from the rafters, and oversized candy canes framed every doorway, but there was something wrong—a tension beneath the carols piped through the speakers. The cheer was wrong. The holiday spirit was here, but it was knotted with something ugly. Pride, anger, self-righteousness—the kind of emotions that ended up inside people that fall on my Naughty list. As I made my way deeper into the convention hall, I passed booths selling Santa-themed merch: collectible figurines, custom hats, even handmade wreaths proclaiming "The One True Claus." Fans bustled past me, chattering excitedly, their costumes elaborate and oddly aggressive. This wasn’t the Santa I knew. It wasn’t the Santa they knew, either, though they seemed certain they were right. A saw a long line snaked out the doors of a panel room filled with fans in every imaginable iteration of me: Cyberpunk Santa, Viking Santa, even one gentleman in a suit labeled “Fitness Santa: Abs for Christmas!” I continued walking, then I saw the sign. "Santa Claus—Exposing the Impostor!" People were streaming into the room beneath it. I shook my head and sighed, following them inside. The room was packed, standing room only. Rows of chairs stretched toward a stage where the Canon Santas had already begun their show. At the center stood Jeff Kyle "Saint Claus" Harrington, flanked by an array of poorly lit slides depicting everything from Coca-Cola ads to pop culture references of me. He gestured animatedly at the images as he spoke, his voice dripping with disdain. This was the man that was the face and voice of the Canon Santas, according to my elves. He was the one I needed to speak to. “The Santa Claus you’ve been sold,” Jeff declared, “is a lie! A construct of capitalism! The true Santa is a figure of folklore, stripped of his roots and twisted into a caricature. And this,” he pointed dramatically at the screen, “is what they’ve turned him into! A marketing tool created to sell toys and keep the masses docile!” The crowd erupted in applause. I waited, letting the noise settle before stepping forward. No need to interrupt the moment. Let him have his applause; he’d worked for it. The murmurs of the crowd buzzed around me as I moved closer to the stage, boots clicking against the polished floor. Jeff continued, feeding off the energy of the room. “And now,” he said, voice rising, “Before we crown our one TRUE canon Santa, I have something else to say. If this so-called real Santa, if he exists, if he has the nerve to show up here today and defend himself!?” He leaned over the podium, scanning the crowd like a predator looking for prey. “Well then, I say this is your last chance to show your face and do it!" I took a step forward. “Well,” I said, stepping out of the shadows at the back of the room behind Jeff, “here I am.” The crowd turned as one, a wave of gasps, murmurs, and even a few screams. Honestly, I was shocked they recognized the real Santa Claus so immediately. “Another cosplayer?” Jeff said, though his voice wavered just enough for me to catch it. “Nice try, old man, but the real Santa wouldn’t dare show his face here.” I smiled warmly, taking a few steps closer. “Hello, Jeff,” I said, my voice carrying easily through the room. “And hello to all of you. Looks like quite the turnout.” The crowd murmured louder now, rippling waves of excitement and confusion. Jeff straightened, his chest puffed out as if to reclaim his attention. Jeff pointed an accusing finger at me. “You expect us to believe you’re Santa Claus?” he scoffed. “You waltz in here, dressed for the part, and think we’ll just fall for it?” I clasped my hands behind my back, smiling. “You seem to know a great deal about me, Jeff. Surely, you’d recognize the real thing when you see him.” Jeff turned to the crowd, gesturing dramatically. “This impostor is here to distract us from the truth! He’s nothing but a corporate mascot, a fraud! If he really is Santa Claus, let him prove it—not with his words, but by showing he’s worthy of the title!” I smiled, shaking my head. “No, Jeff. I’m not here to argue. I’m here to remind everyone why Christmas matters.” "I say we kick his ass!" shouted a Viking-themed Santa standing in the back of the crowd. The crowd erupted in cheers, their enthusiasm unsettling. They weren’t just looking for proof... they were looking for a fight. I sighed. “Prove it? Haven’t I done that a thousand times over? What more do you want?” “No!” Jeff shouted. “Because it’s not you. You’re a fraud. And now you’re going to face the real spirit of Christmas.” Jeff rushed me and the crowd followed suit, fans surging forward, some wielding tinsel lassos, others with oversized stockings they swung like nets. One fan threw a sack full of fake presents at me, aiming for my head. I ducked and rolled, summoning a swirl of snowflakes to try and make a quick escape. “I admire your enthusiasm,” I said, “but this is no way to honor Christmas!”

SEASON 13, ROUND 18 Death (Final Destination) Slot: The Team's Horror Icon Season Wins: 3 Season Losses: 1 Fantasy Team Page Read more about Death (Final Destination) at Wikipedia Official Site: New Line Cinema Polar Express Slot: The Team's Christmas Themed Character Season Wins: 3 Season Losses: 2 Fantasy Team Page Read more about Polar Express at Wikipedia Official Site: Warner Bros. Pictures Battle Terrain Christmas Vs. Halloween: Costume Contest

SEASON 13, ROUND 18 The Djinn Slot: The Team's Horror Icon Season Wins: 4 Season Losses: 0 Fantasy Team Page Read more about The Djinn at Wikipedia Official Site: Lion Gates Films Belsnickel Slot: The Team's Christmas Themed Character Season Wins: 0 Season Losses: 3 Fantasy Team Page Read more about Belsnickel at Wikipedia Official Site: Public Domain Battle Terrain Christmas Vs. Halloween: Role Reversal

SEASON 13, ROUND 17 Dracula Slot: The Team's Horror Icon Season Wins: 3 Season Losses: 0 Fantasy Team Page Read more about Dracula at Wikipedia Official Site: Estate Of Bram Stoker Belsnickel Slot: The Team's Christmas Themed Character Season Wins: 0 Season Losses: 2 Fantasy Team Page Read more about Belsnickel at Wikipedia Official Site: Public Domain Battle Terrain Christmas Vs. Halloween: Fear vs. Joy

SEASON 13, ROUND 17 Jigsaw (John Kramer) Slot: The Team's Horror Icon Season Wins: 2 Season Losses: 1 Fantasy Team Page Read more about Jigsaw (John Kramer) at Wikipedia Official Site: Lion Gates Films Polar Express Slot: The Team's Christmas Themed Character Season Wins: 2 Season Losses: 2 Fantasy Team Page Read more about Polar Express at Wikipedia Official Site: Warner Bros. Pictures Battle Terrain Christmas Vs. Halloween: Santa's Workshop

SEASON 13, ROUND 17 Death (Final Destination) Slot: The Team's Horror Icon Season Wins: 2 Season Losses: 1 Fantasy Team Page Read more about Death (Final Destination) at Wikipedia Official Site: New Line Cinema Ebenezer Scrooge Slot: The Team's Christmas Themed Character Season Wins: 3 Season Losses: 2 Fantasy Team Page Read more about Ebenezer Scrooge at Wikipedia Official Site: Charles Dickens Battle Terrain Christmas Vs. Halloween: Therapy

SEASON 13, ROUND 17 The Djinn Slot: The Team's Horror Icon Season Wins: 3 Season Losses: 0 Fantasy Team Page Read more about The Djinn at Wikipedia Official Site: Lion Gates Films Robot Santa Claus Slot: The Team's Christmas Themed Character Season Wins: 1 Season Losses: 2 Fantasy Team Page Read more about Robot Santa Claus at Wikipedia Official Site: Comedy Central Battle Terrain Christmas Vs. Halloween: Costume Contest

SEASON 13, ROUND 16 Ebenezer Scrooge Slot: The Team's Christmas Themed Character Season Wins: 2 Season Losses: 2 Fantasy Team Page Read more about Ebenezer Scrooge at this Wiki Official Site: Charles Dickens Samri Slot: The Team's Horror Icon Season Wins: 2 Season Losses: 2 Fantasy Team Page Read more about Samri at this Wiki Official Site: Mondo Macabro Battle Terrain Christmas Vs. Halloween: Role Reversal

SEASON 13, ROUND 16 The Phantom of the Opera Slot: The Team's Horror Icon Season Wins: 2 Season Losses: 1 Fantasy Team Page Read more about The Phantom of the Opera at this Wiki Official Site: Public Domain Polar Express Slot: The Team's Christmas Themed Character Season Wins: 2 Season Losses: 1 Fantasy Team Page Read more about Polar Express at this Wiki Official Site: Warner Bros. Pictures Battle Terrain Christmas Vs. Halloween: Role Reversal