Emmett's Christmas List
It always came down to this, every single year. One of the most joyful events on the calendar which is celebrated in every preposterous method humans could think of – Christmas. Every year, Christmas in Forks would be celebrated with an excessive amount of snow falling upon our heads, occasionally accompanied by hail, rain, cats and dogs. Sometimes, if we were very lucky, we spotted with our super-human vision an unfortunate human falling out of the sky. An enigma it was, I never really figured out how that happened. Rosalie hits me on the head every time I enquire about it, and Edward says something about airplanes – do they fart out people or something? Extremely perplexing. But whatever.
This dilemma outruns the rest of my problems – and every single year, I have to face it single-handedly. My super strength can't ever help. SIGH.
WHAT DO I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS?
It's not a Cullen tradition – in fact, I'm the only one that does something like this, for 10 years in fact. Esme and Carlisle and the rest get me to write out a list of all the things that I would like to have for Christmas. I suspect it is because I am a horrible decision maker. Rosalie actually slapped me upside the head in the middle of the shopping mall 4 years ago, because I didn't know what I wanted for Christmas. I constantly change my mind.
It's not really my fault – I mean, looking at it rationally, I want a lot of things. I'd like that shiny scooter behind the gleaming window. So I reach for my credit card, courtesy of Alice, and then my peripheral vision meets another item that suits my fancy – a jumping castle! And so on and so forth – you understand, right? I never know what I want!
So this confuses my family – they think I want that Dracula costume, but by the time they give it to me, I've already forgotten about it. This annoys my family to no end. And it annoys me as well, because then I get presents I don't want.
Do I sound selfish? Perhaps I do. But it really isn't fair that the other members in my family are content with their gifts, having already exchanged their thanks and hugs and kisses, while I mourn over my gifts with displeasure.
So I write my list for my family, which they have to decipher 5 days before Christmas, because my loopy scrawl, and incessant scribbles and unintelligent doodles don't help in the least.
Now I stare at the blank piece of paper, with the blue pen poised underneath the title Emmett's Christmas List, 2007. Vampires with fangs adorn the margins. My signature is engraved into the bottom. Yet, I've written nothing of significance.
Whatever shall I do? This must be my midlife crisis.
5 hours later, I've realised I've gotten nowhere.
I threw out the initial list I had started out with – somehow, there was no more white left, but only ink. I watched TV for commercials, flipped through numerous magazines, and I had gotten zilch. I was unsympathetic towards myself – this is what it felt like to be annoyed with Emmett!
I heard very loud rumbles, and reflexively looked down to my stomach. I laughed – human traits die hard. I still didn't know what the rumble was… hmm. Another mystery for Sherlock Holmes and his understudy, Watson! Well… unfortunately Watson wasn't here. Ah well. The great inspector could do without him!
I heard soft voices. Ghosts? Nervously, I looked over my shoulders. Nope, nothing there. Phew – that was a close call!
Ghosts are invisible, you twit! Stupid voice in my head.
The door flew open. I shrieked girlishly, brandishing the china vase that conveniently was located near my hand. Fortunately, for me, it was only Bella and Edward. Unfortunately, Bella shrieked when I shrieked, and then I shrieked again, and the vase tumbled out of my hand. Oopsy daisy. Well… at least I knew what to get Esme for Christmas.
Edward calmly stared at me. What the hell? Bella was blushing furiously. Why? What did she do? Hmm. Another mystery for Holmes. A big grin broke out on my face.
"You are NOT Sherlock Holmes." Stupid Edward said.
"And what do you know?" I retorted. Of course I was the great detective, everyone knew that!
Edward rolled his eyes and hastily explained to a confused Bella. "Emmett THINKS that he's Sherlock Holmes. And he thought there were ghosts in the house. And he thought the roar of your truck was his stomach." Edward started to smirk.
Bella nervously giggled. I stood there, dumbfounded. Was the little human laughing at me? It was cute though.
Edward glared daggers at me. I smirked. Anything to get that reaction.
Bella started an attempt to have a conversation. "So, what are you doing, Emmett?"
I opened my motor mouth to answer, but I realised that I was supposed to have the list completed by now! Oh shoot! If I told Bella, then Edward would hear, and then he would yell at me! An angry Edward is a no-go.
"Fool," Edward spoke. "I just heard your thoughts."
DAMN IT!
"Get it done, NOW. We're going shopping tomorrow."
"Get what done?" Bella inquired.
I hastened to explain. "See, every year, I have to write a Christmas list with stuff that I want for Christmas."
Bella looked confused. "Isn't that what children do when they're 8 years old or something?"
I scowled. Edward chortled before replying with "But Emmett has issues where he can't make up his mind – he's never content with what gifts we adorn him with – he's constantly changing his mind."
A light bulb went off in my head – I heard it click, I saw it flash.
"BELLA!" I yelled.
Bella yelped in fright. Ok, so maybe I roared it more than I yelled it.
Edward growled. Keep your panties on! I thought. That should shut him up.
"Bella, maybe you can help me with my Christmas List! YAY!" I must have looked like a complete child then.
"No." Edward swiftly intervened. "This list is the only thing you have to do at Christmas, and no one can help. It's your job. Do it yourself."
"No one can help?" That was so unfair! "Not even little humans?" Bell looked miffed at my statement.
"NO. Only you." With those paring words, Edward left me with myself and my piece of paper, taking himself and Bella up into his room.
I was left with my head hanging in my hands. Whatever was I going to do? Esme and Carlisle would be expecting the list any minute now1 GRRR!
I flipped on the television – we got a WAY better one after Edward broke the plasma. Because of that, I missed one of my favourite shows – The Saddle Club. Damn Edward and his anger,
I began to watch "The Apprentice." I had no idea what it was about, just some ugly man telling someone that they were fired. Pfft, how lame. Just as I was about to change the channel, my eyes caught something floating across the screen. It was the most beautiful thing in the world beside Rosalie. I was in love with it. And I had to get one. PRONTO.
I raced over to the table where my scribbly piece of paper lay. Snatching up the pen, I wrote five letters underneath the title. Oh, I wanted it SO bad.
"Carlisle, sweetie, can you come here for a second?" Esme called.
Carlisle was already at her side.
"Is anything wrong?" he asked his wife.
"Actually, I'm afraid that there might be a problem concerning the mentality of our youngest son," Esme told Carlisle.
Carlisle looked depressed. "You're completely right, Esme. I feel like a bad father, I feel as if it was my fault that Edward is still miserable after the recent turn of events. We should have done something to prevent it." Carlisle massaged his temples, looking considerably older than his 23 years.
"Honey, I have to say this – who on earth are you talking about?" Esme was very confused.
"I'm talking about Edward. Isn't that him that we are anxious about?" Now Carlisle was befuddled.
"Perhaps in any other situation. But no – today, I'm talking about Emmett."
Carlisle was immediately relieved. "Well, I'm glad we had that conversation." He kissed his wife on the forehead and began to exit.
"Wait a second honey!" Esme called after him. "We haven't talked about Emmett yet!"
"Esme, darling. I love our children. But Emmett has always… had certain issues. In fact, when he doesn't act crazy, that's when I'm alarmed. He's always been a little iffy, I'll admit. But what can we do? Brainwash him?"
Esme was slightly angered. "Oh, so you that when your son asks for a BLIMP for Christmas, it's just slightly iffy, nothing out of the norm?"
"Yes..." To Carlisle, it sounded more like a question than an actual answer.
Esme relaxed herself. "Sweetie, did you hear me? A BLIMP."
The gears in Carlisle's head started to wind at Esme's statement. He was unusually slow this morning. Maybe he needed coffee. Oh wait, he didn't drink any.
"A blimp? Those huge oddly shaped… things that hover through the air carrying advertisements?" Carlisle enquired.
"Yes, sweetheart. A blimp. Now are you worried?"
"A blimp?" Carlisle asked again,
"Yes, a blimp."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Are you positive?"
"Yes."
"Are you super duper positive?"
"YES."
"A blimp?"
Esme looked exasperated. No, scratch that. She WAS exasperated at her husband's tautological queries.
Carlisle shook his head – it was ringing. He walked out of the room at a human pace, then paused and whirled to face Esme again.
"A blimp? As in B-L-I-M-P?"
"YES!!!!"
Esme was horrified at yelling at her husband – normally, her demeanour was so much more collected than that! But Carlisle refused to grasp the situation.
"Hmm." Carlisle developed his more intelligent look. "Round up the buys. We need to give Emmett the shock treatment. It's the only solution."
Esme rolled her eyes and left the room, leaving behind a befuddled Carlisle.
A Blimp? He thought.
-Christmas Day-
I saw that my brother looked especially happy this Christmas – most likely because Bella was snuggling into his shoulder. Ah, young love.
Esme had made a Christmas pudding and several cookies for Bella to eat. Out of courtesy, I ate some too. I wish I hadn't though. Upchucking the contents of your food isn't the enjoyable of situations. At least everyone else was amused.
We had already sung the Christmas carols. Bella placed the star upon the tree – her first Christmas with us. And now the presents would come.
Bella tapped her spoon against her glass of whatever. "Ahem, I'd like to make a toast."
Everyone's gazes were transfixed upon Bella, who blushed under the scrutiny. "I'd just like to say that this is one of the most memorable experiences I've ever had, celebrating Christmas with you guys. It warms my heart, seeing us all together celebrating a joyous occasion as a family. It means a lot to me, and I just want to say thank you. I love you all."
A silence had settled upon us. Her words were especially kind. She thought of the great Sherlock Holmes as family!
Esme spoke. "Sweetheart, thankyou. For completing the family and making my family considerably happier." In a flash, Esme had enveloped Bella in a hug.
Soon, everyone had hugged Bella, said their word of thanks, even Rosalie, my wife! I knew that her animosity towards Bella would evaporate soon; Bella was a lovable, huggable human. Squishable too.
The presents were being dispersed, and a chorus of "Thankyous" could be heard. Some were surprised, notably Bella. Bella had received multiple shopping vouchers from Alice, a book containing all of Shakespeare's sonnets from Jasper, a beautiful rainbow scarf from Rosalie, and Carlisle and Esme had bought her a large set of brand, spanking new books. Edward had gotten her tickets for himself and her to see Linkin Park live in concert. Bella was positively thrilled.
My gift to Bella was last. It was in a box with holes punctured in the top. She looked at it curiously, noting with interest and a bit of fright that on top of the box there was a sticker bearing the "FRAGILE OPEN WITH CARE" symbol.
Slowly, Bella removed the top of the box. Jasper steadied me with a wave of his emotions, for I was bouncing with glee. Taking out the box, she saw that inside the box was….
"A FISH!" she squeaked.
Everyone watched with rapt interest as Bella watched with rapt interest the fish that swam up and down the boxed shaped fish tank. Her emotions played along her face – shock, surprise, enthusiasm, excitement, surprise again.
"Aww, thankyou Emmett! This is so cool!" exclaimed Bella. My grin was hurting my face. She made me smile too much. Pfft, stupid human. Edward just glared at me. Oops.
I was last to receive my gifts… or moreover, singular term – gift. My nerves were so jittery, I could barely contain myself. And Jasper was NOT helping. BLIMP BLIMP BLIMP BABY HERE I COME!
They all gave me a box. A small, teeny weeny teeny tiny box. So small I could barely see it in my gigantic palm. This was my blimp?
I carefully took off the lid, lazily flicking it across the room. I heard an indignant squawk. Oops, sorry Jasper.
There was a small strip of paper inside. This was not my blimp. I couldn't read it. There was no way I was going to face the music. Oh no. The misery definitely came first.
I howled in anguish and sadness, not at being able to receive the one gift my heart truly yearned for. Oh, the WOE!
"You people have crushed my dreams, you diabolical geniuses! My hopes of riding in my own blimp have now been squashed with your unworthy huge feet! The sun shall never shine for me again without my darling! MY BLIMP!"
Bella shook with laughter, while everyone else looked upon me with apathy. My random dramatic outbursts were fairly common.
"The one thing I asked for! Oh, was it so difficult? I have served my masters faithfully, and I have put food in the dog's dish! I scrubbed the bathroom with my toothbrush! I slaved, and I slaved, and I slaved, and it all came down to this? The one thing! OH! The gut wrenching misery is going to kill me! My heart will no longer beat for anyone or anything. My soul has been shattered! And on Christmas day! You lot shall suffer from an evil, burning pain! You shall be unmercifully be crucified at the hands of Sherlock Holmes!" now MY tome had taken a diabolical edge to it. "MWAHAHAHAHA! Suffer, fools!"
Rosalie grimaced. "You are not freaking Sherlock Holmes!"
I tilted my head. "But I totally could be."
Bella picked up the small strip of paper and handed it to me. "Maybe you should read it, good detective."
And so I did.
And the words – of the words, they gave me life.
Go to the backyard – a mystery awaits you. Love everyone.
I approached the backyard with a speed faster than a cantaloupe! And there I saw my one and only true love, after Rose of course – my blimp.
It was beautiful, a hidden enigma. How could I have not noticed this before? The oddly shaped THING was vividly decorated with various hues of the rainbow. And it was real.
And the best part – it was MINE.
My very own blimp.
Needless to say, I went crazy. I shrieked with joy, crushing everyone to death (Bella) and almost getting killed by her overprotective boyfriend.
I rolled around in the dirt, laughing so much I became cherophobic. And then I jumped in my blimp and flew away into the Christmas night, with my booming laughter echoing over the snow topped mountains and the dewy forests.
And I even met Santa Claus along the way as well! Ok, I jest. Didn't meet the fat man. One day, in this excellently crafted piece of machinery, I will though.
And that was my Christmas – what about yours?
-Next Year, January, right after Christmas-
"My parents bought me a horse for Christmas," said Jessica Stanley.
"Pfft. You'd need a ladder to get onto something like that, what with your height and all," smirked Lauren Mallory.
Jessica huffed like a provoked chicken and waled away.
Tossing her corn silk hair, Lauren told everyone "Well, my parents bought me a brand new convertible car. Really flashy, it's red and stuff."
"Is it like Rosalie Hale's car?" enquired Eric Yorkie.
"Ugh, like that junk on wheels? You've GOT to be kidding me."
Rosalie, with her impeccable hearing, seethed with rage, which none of her siblings helped her control. She went to the tree that Mallory's car was parked under, and gave it a good old ninja kick. The tree snapped at the trunk and fell on top of Lauren's new car. Rosalie zoomed away from prying eyes.
Lauren burst into angry tears. Rosalie smirked. "Its amazing, isn't it, what a well aimed kick can do, huh?" Everyone nodded vaguely, with the exception of Bella's eyes bugging out of her eye sockets. No one messed around with my wife.
Mike Newton boasted exceptionally loudly, so that everyone could hear. "Well, my parents purchased me a brand new beach house! Its located in a private place, and so only people can go there by personal invitation. I get my own quadrant of the beach as well!"
With typical human behaviour, everyone ooh'ed and ahh'ed. Mike saw us approaching his posse and exclaimed loudly "whoever shall I invite to my beach house?"
Girls started to squeal, waving their hands in the air, and shaking their booties near his face, trying to pry out a reaction. "Hmm," he said thoughtfully. "Bella! You can come to the beach house… maybe a little chemistry will fly between us? What do you say? Just you and me in an empty house, so much time, so much to do." He winked at her and smiled suggestively. I've seen grizzlies more tempting seductively than him. Ugh.
Bella did not respond. Edward glared at Newton then nodded at me.
"Guess what, Newton? My parents bought me a BLIMP. That's right. A blimp. I have my own piece of aircraft. Beat that, loser!"
Mike dropped to the ground. I don't know how, and I don't know why. Maybe the blimp news was too much for his poor, frail human nerves to handle. But what was even funnier was that all the human girls stepped over Mike's dead body and rushed up to me.
"So… you bought a blimp?" asked one girl. Didn't I just say I did? So unbelievably shallow. "How… nice." She ran her hand down my arm and purred 'seductively'. Sort of sounded like there was something lodged in her throat – a hairball!
All day, people were enquiring about the blimp of mine.
It was an unforgettable episode – some guys were paying me for a ride, giving me their Christmas pressies, and I was insanely popular for a whole day.
Ah, blimp, I thought. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
This was the best day of my life. Christmas really pays off, huh?
END.
This is probably the longest one shot I've ever written more than 3000 words. I've impressed myself.
Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight characters – they're Meyer's. I don't own "Shall I compare thee to a Summer's day – that's Shakespeare – Sonnet 18.
Cherophobia is the fear of dying from laughter.
And obviously, everyone was OOC in this.
I know nothing about the mechanics of blimps, so don't go correcting me.
Carlisle's OOCness about the blimp thing was inspired by a certain episode of Friends. "Rachel?"
And I don't own Sherlock Holmes. I thought it would be so much better than comparing Emmett to Harry Potter – I'm sick of that.
Kudos to no one.
Nadia the demented one