Christmas for the Butler Family

Onyxx: Bet you didn't see this coming. =3

Gerry: Oh, shit. Whenever she says that, something bad happens.

Onyxx: Not true! Well, not EVERY time. In fact, sometimes, good things happen.

Gerry: Is that true for THIS time 'round, though?

Onyxx: … Maybe.

Gerry: AHA! I knew it!

Onyxx: Hush, boy, or I'll throw more Scottish insults at you.

Gerry: I bet I know more than you.

Onyxx: Yer face looks like the bad side of a burned haggis.

Gerry: You made that up!

Onyxx: Did I? =3

I groaned, looking down at the foot of the bed as my fifteen-year-old and my twelve-year-old jumped on the bed screaming about Christmas.

"ALRIGHT, YOU BLOODY HOOLIGANS, GET OFF ME BLOODY BED," I yelled. "Or there won't be any bloody Christmas."

Erik and Chris immediately jumped off the bed and quieted down. "Sorry, Dad," Erik said, grinning.

"Don't 'Sorry, Dad,' me." I sat up, looking down at Em. Sleeping like a bloody rock. I looked back at our son and sighed. "You know I'm too bloody old for this. Alright, go downstairs and unwrap your bloody presents."

Erik and Chris whooped and ran down the stairs. I shook Emmy's shoulder. "Wake up, hon. It's that bloody day again."

Emmy groaned and opened her eyes. "Aren't they a little old?" She sighed and sat up. "Well, let's go. Maybe we can drop them off at my parents'."

I laughed. "Better yet, fly 'em to Scotland and let my mum take care of them." I groaned. "I'm getting too damn old for this."

"Aww, Ger, you're only like..."

"Fifty? Give or take?"

She laughed and kissed my cheek. "Age is just a number. If I had to pick what age you acted like, I'd say twelve."

"And that would make you a pedophile."

We both stopped laughing, remembering what had happened those years ago with Chris.

"MOM! DAD!" we heard Erik call from downstairs. "Come quick!" From the sound of his voice, it was bad. As I descended the stairs, I half-expected a fat man in a suit to appear out of nowhere.

Sadly, there was no fat man in a red suit. Instead, my worst nightmare.

Among presents stacked to the ceiling stood about fifteen men, not counting their families, that all looked exactly like me. Because they were me.

Erik and Christine with their children (and a pronounced baby bump, I noticed), Dracula and Onyxx with their daughter Mary, Clyde in his prison jumpsuit, Kable and his wife and child, Terry Sheridan and a very pregnant Lara Croft, Leonidas and his wife and son, Stoick the Vast and Hiccup, "the stranger" from Dear Frankie with Frankie and his mum, Milo and Nicole Boyd, Mike Chadway and (another) pregnant... whatsername... Beowulf, Andre Marek and Lady Claire, Creedy, Attila the Hun, and Archie Brown. All characters I'd played in movies.

The-Erik-that-is-Gerry grinned evilly and started up a chorus. "Oh, Gerry, oh Gerry, you are an ass forever! Oh Gerry, oh, Gerry, you are an ass forever!" The other five million joined in as well. "You were as dumb in winter snow as in the summer's richest glow! Oh, Gerry, oh Gerry, you are an ass forever."

Throughout the ordeal, I was giving him the Epic Glare of Impending Doom Because You Pissed Off The Wrong Scotsman, and then Emmy piped in, and the glare inscreased tenfold.

"Merry Christmas, Gerry!" they cheered. Well, most of them. Attila and Leonidas gave him a funny look. I bet they were thinking, "What the hell is Christmas?"

I looked at the group of, like, fifty million look-alikes and sighed, then walked over to the wall and tried to bash my head in. It didn't work.

I looked at the group, and sighed again. "I'm too fucking old for this."

Gerry: You made me old!

Onyxx: Well, it's not like I could spontaneously make you immortal. I was GONNA make you a vamp at the end of the second one, but NOOOOOO...
Gerry: Shut the hell up.

Onyxx: Merry Christmas everyone, and more to come for every other holiday.

Gerry: I swear to Christ if you do one for Valentine's day where Bob from RocknRolla comes to life and thinks I'm One Two...

Onyxx: Can't make any promises =3