The Christmas lights shone brightly, like the flame of revenge within his soul. The tinsel sparkled like her hair, silver as the moonlight, painful as tin foil. The points of the star on the top of the tree were as sharp as his sword and as hard as his heart.

"Tonight," he vowed, "I will get my revenge on the Battle-maiden."

"Oh, come off it, Wyl." Wylfred's best friend, Ancel, clapped him on the back. "Don't you remember the New Year's Resolution you made last year?"

"Yes, I swore to get my revenge on the Battle-mai—"

"Oh, you're right, that was last year," Ancel interrupted. "I meant this year. Wyl, didn't you resolve to give up your quest for revenge?"

"I did not," Wylfred whined, "and quit cramping my style. My resolution was to get my revenge without resorting to violence. That doesn't mean I can't carry my sword around and say cool things."

Ancel nodded. "Fair enough. Tilte, you ready?"

She nodded. "Yes. Thank you for letting me come with you. I can't wait to meet your friends!"

"Mom, we're leaving!" Wylfred shouted.

"All right," she called back. "Don't be out too late!"

"Sheesh," grumbled Wylfred as he closed the door behind him. "This crap really weighs a ton. It would be much easier if I just had cards for everyone, but no, she said…"

"Hey, Wyl, don't brood so much," Tilte scolded in her normal, gentle voice. "It was your idea to give everyone presents. I think it's a lovely idea."

"Well, considering the special 'present' I'm going to give the Battle-maiden this year, it didn't seem right to leave everyone else out."

Ancel shook his head. "Knock it off, Wyl. Tilte doesn't need to hear about this."

Wylfred shrugged. "It's not like she isn't going to see it eventually."

"Please don't talk about me as if I'm not here," said Tilte.

The first house they came to was inhabited by Ailyth and her mistress, Hel. A terrifying aura arose from the Victorian mansion, and Tilte refused to approach it, promising she'd wait for Ancel and Wylfred at the end of the driveway.

"So this is Ailyth's house?" Ancel asked, cringing. "The air is very…heavy, isn't it?"

"You get used to it!" Wylfred shouted over the noise produced by the friction of two different realms rubbing against each other. "But it is a bit of a shock when you first get here."

The door opened before they had even reached it. A young woman in a maid's dress poked her head out, and a devious smile appeared on her face. "Oh, Lord Wylfred! How good it is to see you. And who is this?"

"This is my friend, Ancel." Wylfred gestured to his poor companion, who was staggering under the weight of the hellish atmosphere.

"N-n-nice to meet you," Ancel groaned as he began to sweat. "Well, Wyl, we really should be going. Why don't you give her your gift?"

Ailyth looked at Ancel, her eyes hungry. "What's the hurry? Would you like to stay for dinner? I am sure Lady Hel would be most pleased to have such a pure young man over. I could make you some tea and crumpets."

Wylfred followed her gaze, and he could tell Ancel was falling fast. "Hey, hey, Ancel." He grabbed his friend's shoulder. "Pull yourself together! We'll give Ailyth her gift, and then we can go. All right?" He was getting nervous, for the poor young man's eyes had already begun to roll into the back of his head. "Ancel!"

"My, such a lightweight," Ailyth mused as Wylfred began to dig around in his sack. "But his heart is pure, and he is a rather tasty appearing young man."

"Keep your fangs off my friend," Wylfred muttered as he finally found what he was looking for. "Snack on these in the meantime."

"Oh…" Ailyth's face lit up when she saw the popcorn balls Wylfred had brought. "Did you make these yourself, Lord Wylfred?"

"Of course not. I can't cook."

Ailyth leaned forward. "You know, Lord Wylfred…You may not be pure, but I still really like you." She brushed her icy fingers against his cheek, making him shiver. "One of these days, you will be mine."

"T-t-t-take care," Wylfred squeaked, nearly slipping as he began to drag both Ancel and his sack away from Ailyth.

"Of course." Ailyth smiled and waved. "Take care yourself, Lord Wylfred."

"Oh my gods!" Tilte cried when she saw the unconscious Ancel. "Is he all right?"

"Yeah, he will be." Wylfred handed Tilte the sack and began to drag his friend with both hands. "We just need to get him away from here. Next up are Cheripha and her dad."

"Did you get something for both of them, Wyl?" she asked as Ancel began to come around.

He shook his head. "I had no idea what to get Lockswell, so I got them something they could enjoy together."

By the time they reached the front door, Ancel had fully regained consciousness. "Hey, Wyl, what about this Cheripha girl? Is she cute?"

"I guess," muttered Wylfred as he rang the doorbell. The door opened almost immediately.

"Wyl!" exclaimed Cheripha. "It's so good to see you! How have you been? Come on in!"

Wylfred shook his head. "I'm sorry, Cheripha. I'm really just here to give you and your dad a present. For Christmas."

"Oh, really? That's so sweet of you, Wyl! I feel bad because I didn't get you anything!"

"Here." Wylfred pulled out a dusty 80's edition of Trivial Pursuit. "For you and Lockswell to play."

"Ooh!" Cheripha eagerly took it and set it down on the floor. "Thank you so much! I'm sure Dad and I will have fun playing it!" She threw her arms around Wylfred and gave him a big hug.

"Ack!" The hug took Wylfred by surprise. "Ch-Cheripha!"

"Oh." Cheripha let go of Wylfred. "Are these your friends?"

"Yes. Ancel and Tilte," he said, pointing to each one.

"Hey," greeted Ancel, holding out his hand for her to shake. "I had no idea Wyl was friends with such an adorable girl."

Cheripha shook his hand and then held hers out to Tilte. "You're the same age as me, right? Let's be friends!"

"Okay!" Tilte agreed.

Wylfred nodded, pleased with this turn of events. "Well, then, we really must be going…"

"Isn't he adorable when he…" Cheripha leaned forward and whispered in Tilte's ear.

"Oh!" A delighted smile appeared on Tilte's face. "Oh, yes! I know exactly what you're talking about!"

"Hey…Hey!" Wylfred was about to say more, but he stopped when he saw Lockswell.

"Dad, look!" Cheripha cried happily, showing him the game. "It's a Christmas gift from Wylfred!"

"Oh, thank you, Wylfred." Lockswell smiled. "It's so nice of you to stop by. Would you like to come in for a little while?"

Wylfred shook his head. "No, thank you, sir. We've got a lot of people to deliver presents to. Take care."

"Merry Christmas!" they both shouted. He waved, and was gone.

After he was out of Cheripha's sight, Wylfred began to jump up and down and wave his arms. "Hey, hey, Tilte, what did Cheripha say to you? Come on, tell me!"

"It's a secret," she said.

"Arrrrrgh!" Frustrated, Wylfred threw down his sack, and then picked it up again. "You have to tell me! I'll go crazy if you don't!"

"Maybe someday."

"Aww, man, it must be great being so popular," pouted Ancel.

Wylfred begged and pleaded for her to tell him all the way to the next house. By the time they reached Natalia's doorstep, he had accepted the fact that it was pointless.

"Oh, what have we here?" Natalia smiled gently at Wylfred. "A visit from Santa?"

For once, Ancel was speechless.

"I have a present for you," Wylfred announced. He reached into his sack and pulled out a teddy bear that had NATTALI written on it. "I ran out of room," he explained.

"Thank you." Natalia decided not to tell him that if he had spelled her name correctly, he would have had enough room to finish. "I'll cherish it always. Did you get presents for Earnest and Darius, too?"

He nodded. "I just hope they like what I got them."

"Don't worry. Earnest will be happy just to know that you thought of him. And I'm sure you picked out something nice for Darius, too."

"Yeah…Thanks to you and Earnest."

"It's no problem. Have a good Christmas, Wylfred."

"Yeah, you too."

"Dammit!" Ancel cried as soon as they were out of earshot. "Maybe I should go on a quest of revenge, if you meet so many beautiful women!"

"Well, the next person we're visiting isn't a woman," Wylfred told him.

***

"Wylfred!" Earnest looked positively ecstatic to see his old friend. "What a wonderful surprise! What's that you've got in your bag?"

"What, indeed?" Wylfred chuckled as he reached inside.

"He's really getting into this role," Ancel whispered to Tilte, who nodded.

Earnest's eyes widened when he saw the slip of paper handed to him. "This is…"

"It's a receipt," explained Wylfred.

"You…" Earnest's eyes filled with tears, and then he wrapped Wylfred up in an enormous bear hug. "You're such a great friend!"

"Awk!...Th-th-thank you!" Wylfred gasped as he felt his spine crunch and his ribs crack (it was only his imagination, but it felt real).

"Please, stop by any time!" Earnest called as the three walked (or staggered, in Wylfred's case) back down the driveway.

"Oh, gods," Wylfred groaned. "I think he broke my back. Ancel, could you carry this at least until we get to the next house?"

"Sure," agreed Ancel, taking Wylfred's sack into his hands. "Damn, this is heavy! How many people do you have to visit tonight!?"

"Too many," muttered Wylfred as they reached Darius' driveway.

"What did you give him, Wyl?" asked Tilte.

Wylfred smiled. "I donated some money to a charity in his name."

"Oh, Wylfred." Darius smiled. "How nice to see you."

"I have a present for you." Wylfred reached into his sack and pulled out a snow globe. "Here you go, Darius. Merry Christmas."

"Well…how nice." Darius took the globe in his hands and shook it. "How did you know I collected these, Wylfred?"

"Earnest told me. And Natalia helped list which ones you didn't have yet."

"Well, thank you. I just love to walk around my room and shake up all my snow globes and then sit down and watch the snow settle."

Wylfred coughed. "Yes…Fascinating. Good luck with that."

***

Gwendal's house was a run-down looking place. In fact, Wylfred spent about five minutes locating the house numbers to make sure he was at the right place.

"Tilte," he said, "maybe you should stay here. This guy's kind of a dick. Gods only know what he might say to you."

"I can take care of myself," Tilte cheerfully informed him, and nothing more was said on the matter.

"What the hell do you want?" demanded Gwendal as soon as he opened the door.

"I'm here to give you a present, asshole," Wylfred answered, trying to get into the holiday spirit. "Do you want it or not?"

"Why the fuck would I want anything from you?" Gwendal asked, clearly enjoying the conversation. "So what the hell did you get for me, bitch?"

"This." Wylfred pulled out a $30 gift card for Wal-Mart. "I figure it'll keep your tacky ass off welfare for about a week."

"Hmmm." Gwendal took the card from him and looked at it. "Not bad, you little shit."

"A 'Thank you' would suffice, dickhead."

"Get your pansy ass off my property, now."

"I will!" When Wylfred had reached the curb, he turned around and shouted, "See ya later, cocksucker! Merry Christmas!"

"Fuck your mom!"

"I'm surprised you could hear all that without passing out, Tilte."

Tilte shook her head. "I'm not as fragile as you think. I hear much worse on late-night TV."

"It's not that I think you're fragile. But listen to Ancel."

She looked over at their friend, who was shivering and muttering, "C…co…I can't believe you said that, Wyl!"

The next stop was Heugoe's place. Wylfred had been unsure of what to get Heugoe, and he still did not know if he would like what he had finally picked out.

The knocker was heavy; Wylfred had to struggle to lift it. But when it hit the door, everyone jumped.

Before long, the sound of pounding footsteps could be heard, and the door opened, and there stood Heugoe wearing nothing but a towel around his waist.

A few moments passed, and then Wylfred said, "Well, this is more than a little awkward."

"I'm sorry. I was in the shower," Heugoe explained. "Is there something you wanted to talk about, Wylfred?"

"Uh…No." Wylfred began to dig around in his sack. "I came to give you your gift. Ah, here we go." He reached in and pulled out a red-and-purple lava lamp. "Ta-dash! This is from your era, isn't it?"

"A little before my era," Heugoe answered, smiling. "But you know…I've always wanted one of these." He nodded. "Thank you, Wylfred."

***

"I should warn you right now: Mireille and Michel aren't like other kids," Wylfred told them. "They like violence. In fact, I dare say they would be running around and slaughtering people if they could get away with it."

Tilte shivered. "Then why are you friends with them?"

Wylfred smiled. "They're just so cute, Tilte. You have to see their little faces light up with glee when they see a decapitation in a movie, or blow up a building in a video game."

"Splendid," muttered Ancel. "What kind of kids are they raising these days?"

Without answering, Wylfred knocked on the door.

"Who is it?"

"Let's go see!"

"Maybe it's him!"

"Shhhh, go get his present!"

There was a crash and the sound of giggling voices filled the air. Ancel looked intrigued. Tilte looked absolutely terrified.

The door opened, and standing there were two adorable children, a girl and a boy.

"It is him!" gasped Mireille, clasping her hands with delight.

"It's big brother!" Michel cried happily, and they both threw their arms around Wylfred in a hug.

"How are ya, big brother?"

"What's new, big brother?"

"Hey now, hey now," Wylfred chuckled as he let his paternal streak shine through. "You kids always have so much energy. Your big brother has a present for you. What do you say to that?"

"Ooh!" squealed Mireille. "What is it? A new voodoo doll?"

"The next movie in the Living Dead series?" suggested Michel.

Wylfred grinned. "Maybe a cross between the two. Let's see here…" He dug around in his sack, and then gasped in mock amazement. "Oh, what's this? What have I got here?" He pulled out their gift and presented it to them. "For two kids who have done so much to stay good all year!"

Tilte and Ancel exchanged baffled glances.

"The newest Silent Hill game!" Michel marveled. "That's all of them, Sis!"

"Oh, thank you, big brother! We'll have so much fun shooting and slicing people and monsters with this!"

"Let's give him his gift now, Sis!"

"Yes, let's!"

The twins eagerly handed him a drawing, and Wylfred's body went cold at what he saw. It was clearly a drawing of him (the two ponytails gave it away) dangling from a hangman's noose. Also, it appeared his throat had been slit. Blood dripped from his body into a puddle on the ground. His eyes were X's, his tongue was hanging out, and the words "Big Brother" were lovingly written in their seventh-grade handwriting.

"We worked on it together," Michel informed him. "It's our masterpiece."

"Your masterpiece, huh?" Wylfred cringed slightly. "Thank you…Thanks, you two."

"Bye-bye, big brother!" they called together as Wylfred and his friends left.

Tilte chuckled. "They are kind of cute, actually."

"How cute that they gave you a drawing," Ancel added, laughing.

"Yeah…" Wylfred muttered. "Like I said, they're not like other kids."

***

"Wylfred! Hi!" Rosea greeted, her kind face lighting up with joy. "Did you come all this way to see me? How nice of you!"

"Actually, I came to give you a present."

Her eyes widened. "A present? For me? Oh, Wylfred…" Her eyes brimmed with tears.

"Yeah…" Wylfred scratched his head in an awkwardly adorable manner. "I couldn't really think of anything good to get you, so I settled for this…" He pulled out a CD of smooth jazz, and another one of choral music. "You seemed like the smooth jazz type," he explained, "but I thought I should throw in another one just in case."

"Th-thank you," she stammered, although she really preferred rock to jazz or choral. "I will listen to every song."

"You are so cute," Ancel blurted out. "Tell me, how did you come to be friends with Wylfred?"

"Well…" Rosea blushed at being told she was cute. "He helped me out when there were people in trouble."

"Awwww," Ancel gushed. "Wyl's a nice guy, isn't he?" His hand came down on Wylfred's shoulder and squeezed it almost painfully hard. "A really, reeeaaalllllly nice guy."

"That hurts, Ancel," whined Wylfred.

"Did you get something for Liese, too?" Rosea asked. "Knowing her, she will be jealous if you did not…"

"I have a great gift for Lieselotte. It took some creative thinking, but I think she'll like it." Wylfred looked incredibly pleased with himself. "It was really rather obvious, once I thought about it."

Rosea sighed with relief. "I am glad. I would not want there to be any more issues between us."

***

"Who is Lieselotte?" asked Ancel once they were walking again.

"She's a pain in the ass, that's what," Wylfred grumbled.

"Really? Is she cute?"

"I…I guess so." Wylfred blushed slightly. "But she drives me crazy sometimes. You'll understand soon enough."

"Oh, my!" Lieselotte, dressed in a rather revealing "Santa" outfit, answered the door almost immediately. "I thought it might be you, but I've never seen these faces before. Are they friends of yours?"

"Yeah," said Wylfred. "Ancel and Tilte. They're both old friends of mine."

"Hmmm…" Lieselotte pursed her lips thoughtfully. "This girl, Tilte…Is she my rival?"

"Huh?"

Tilte blinked. "What?"

Ancel knew where she was going with this, but decided to stay quiet and see what happened.

"Such a pretty young girl," Lieselotte murmured as she brushed some loose bangs out of Tilte's face. "You must know Wylfred really well, huh? I'm jealous." Then, she grinned as her narrow, catlike eyes reflected great amusement. "Why don't we get together and share our experiences with him? I'll have Cheripha over, too. Maybe even Rosea. Yes…just us girls." She giggled.

"Hey!" Wylfred snapped. "Don't talk about me like I'm not here!"

"Or…" Lieselotte leaned in further, chuckling. "Maybe it's not Wylfred you need to worry about. You are a very adorable girl…and I do swing both ways…"

Suddenly, Ancel doubled over and crumpled to the ground.

"Ancel!" Tilte cried, immediately kneeling down next to him. "Are you okay, Ancel?"

"Yeah," he grunted, "I'm fine. Please, just ignore me. I just need to stay like this for a few minutes. I'm fine, really."

"A-anyway," Wylfred stammered, not quite dense enough to know what was happening to Ancel, "I came to bring you your present. Re…remember when we first met, you wanted to touch my sword, and I said no? Well, I, I thought that maybe, you know, since it's Christmas and all…"

"You'll let me touch your sword?" Lieselotte finished eagerly.

"Just for a few minutes!" Wylfred insisted, and she nodded, a huge grin on her face. "Go ahead then."

Ecstatic, Lieselotte dropped to her knees and began to rub and stroke Wylfred's sword. "It's so beautiful," she breathed. "So big…so long…so manly." Her eyelids fluttered.

It wasn't until she tried to lick the sword that Wylfred stopped her. "Hey, hey! None of that. None of that!"

"Oh, all right," Lieselotte pouted, standing up once more. "But you know, Wyl…I haven't given you a present yet."

"Th-that's all right." She took a step towards him, and he took a step back, almost tripping over Ancel. "I really don't need anything. I, I…"

"Don't be so nervous," she whispered. "I'll eat you up." And before Wylfred could move away any further, she took his chin in one of her hands and kissed him on the cheek.

Wylfred's immediate reaction to the kiss was to turn as red as Lieselotte's outfit. Then he began to stammer madly. "W-w-w-w-what was that for? What the…You don't…Why did…" He tugged on his ponytails in adorable frustration and embarrassment.

Tilte started giggling. Lieselotte joined in.

"Wh-why are you laughing?" Wylfred demanded. "You're both just teasing me, aren't you?"

Tilte shook her head but laughed even harder.

"Of course not, Wyl," Lieselotte assured him. "We like you."

"Come on, everyone!" he said loudly. "It's time to go to the next house. We've still got a long night ahead of us."

Lieselotte shook her head as everyone left. "And he didn't even say Thank you."

***

"Who's next?" asked Ancel.

"Ushio, who is at least normal. In relative." Wylfred frowned as it occurred to him just how many odd friends he had.

"Oh, Wylfred!" Ushio exclaimed with a big grin. "It's been a while, hasn't it? Who's your lady friend? She's awfully cute."

"Why does everyone keep ignoring me?" Ancel complained.

Wylfred reached into his sack and pulled out a big box of Pocky. "Here you go!"

Ushio took it from him, stared at it for a few moments, then looked back up at Wylfred, frowning. "Pocky, Wylfred?"

"Yeah." Wylfred grinned. "I thought you would like it."

Ushio stared down at the ground, shaking. "Unbelievable. You think that just because I'm Yamato, I like Pocky?"

"Uh…"

Ushio looked back up at Wylfred and snarled, "You think that we Yamato just sit around all day, eating Pocky and drinking sake and watching anime and reading manga? Is that it!?"

"Well…"

"Well, you're WRONG! I thought you were different, Wylfred! I didn't think you would play into such ridiculous stereotypes!" His voice was getting louder, and Tilte and Ancel shrunk away, frightened. "Leave, now! I don't want to associate with someone who believes the crap he sees in anime!" And he slammed the door in Wylfred's face.

They were about halfway down the driveway when the door opened again, and Ushio poked his head out. "Hey man, thanks for the Pocky."

"Yeah, no problem."

"Merry Christmas!"

"You too! See ya!"

"A dose of Christmas spirit?" Tilte mused.

Wylfred shook his head. "No, he's always been like that."

"Who's next?"

"Fauxnel."

"Faux…nel?" she repeated. "What an odd name. Isn't faux French for fake?"

"Yeah, he really doesn't like it when people bring that up. He didn't pick it, he says." Wylfred picked up the knocker and did what knockers do best.

About 30 passed before Fauxnel cautiously opened the door. "Who is…Oh, hello, Wylfred." He smiled at Tilte. "And who is this adorable young lady?" He held out his hand, and when Tilte took it, he raised her hand to his lips. Her face turned bright pink, and she did not get flustered easily.

"Hey. Hey!" Wilfred shouted, pulling Tilte away from Fauxnel. "Don't you start with her! She's way too young for any of your shenanigans!"

Fauxnel heaved an injured sigh. "Jealousy does not become you, Sir Wylfred. I am a friend to all women, regardless of age. Although…" His eyes became distant and he licked his lips. "She is a few years too young to enjoy some of my other…shenanigans, as you call them."

"What's with this guy?" Ancel asked, a disturbed look on his face. "Hey, Faux pas or whatever your name is…"

His eyes narrowed. "That's Fauxnel."

"Yeah, that's what I meant. You'd better stay away from Tilte!"

Fauxnel brushed the concern aside. "Fear not. I do not intend to become your rival, or Wylfred's, for that matter." A smile appeared on his face once again. "So, I am assuming you did not come here to argue with me about my romantic pursuits."

"Oh, yeah," Wylfred muttered, blushing. "This was a bit difficult for me to get…In fact, I couldn't even go in the store, so I had to ask Ancel here to buy it for me."

"Yeah, and you still haven't paid me ba—Wait." Ancel looked at Wylfred like he was crazy. "You mean this is the guy you bought that for!?"

"Oh, dear," Fauxnel chuckled. "Just what did you get me?"

Wylfred did not answer, but reached into the sack and pulled out Fauxnel's gift.

Fauxnel's eyes widened. "Wylfred…you…"

Wylfred's gift to Fauxnel was a black rubber flogger. The handle was plastic with a black sphere on either end, and the stretchable strands were about a foot long. It was beautiful.

Clearing his throat loudly, Fauxnel clapped his hand onto Wylfred's shoulder. "You're a good man, Sir Wylfred. I am sorry I have nothing to give you in return."

"No, that's all right," Wylfred assured him. "I only got something from a couple of the people I visited tonight." His ears burned as he remembered the kiss.

The delighted Fauxnel waved his new flogger around a bit before giving it a practice swing, making the other three jump at the resulting Crack!

"Ah, yes," he murmured. "It has a nice zing to it. I sincerely thank you, Sir Wylfred. And I know just who I will use it on first…"

"It had better not be Tilte!" Wylfred and Ancel said in unison.

"Of course not." Fauxnel shook his head. "I only use these instruments on those who request it." He smiled. "But it is good that you care so much about your friend."

Wylfred turned to Tilte. "Well, we should…Tilte?"

Tilte, having never met a charmer like Fauxnel, was in a bit of a daze. Her cheeks were flushed, her pupils were dilated, and she either ignored Wylfred, or did not hear him at all.

"Tilte! Hey, Tilte!" Ancel waved his hand in front of her face. "It's time to go!"

"Oh!" Tilte quickly snapped out of her trance. "I'm sorry! It was such a pleasure to meet you."

Fauxnel bowed deeply. "The pleasure is all mine, milady."

"Oh, spare me," Wylfred groaned, rolling his eyes. He took Tilte's hand, and the three began to walk away.

Fauxnel waved and called after them, "Merry Christmas!"

"Yeah, yeah, you two."

"Merry Christmas, Fauxnylon!" Ancel shouted.

"It's Fauxnel!" Fauxnel corrected angrily.

"Bye, Fauxnel!" Tilte said, waving cheerfully.

"Goodbye, my dear! Take care of those two for me!"

"I will!"

Wylfred groaned. "Just what is so amazing about that guy?"

"He's so…beautiful," she sighed. "It was like looking at a flower or a sunset. He just took my breath away."

Ancel stuck out his tongue. "So that's your type, Tilte?"

"I don't know what my 'type' is yet."

"You're not the first female he's pulled that cheap stunt on, Tilte," Wylfred told her.

"I didn't think I was." Suddenly, Tilte's face broke into a grin. "Oh, I get it now! You're both jealous, aren't you? Because of his stunning ability to charm women?"

"Of course not!" Wylfred scoffed.

"Why would men like us be jealous of that…that…that girly man?" Ancel added.

But the conversation went no further, for they had arrived at Chez Roienbourg.

"Hello, young Wylfred," Roienbourg greeted as he opened the door. "How unusual to see you here. Are these the friends you told me so much about?"

"Yes, Your Excellency."

Your Excellency? Ancel thought.

What is he, a bishop? Tilte wondered.

"I came to give you a present," Wylfred explained. "For Christmas."

Roienbourg smiled, his dark eyes twinkling merrily. "How thoughtful of you. I never thought you'd take the time to visit this old man during the holidays."

"Awww, you've still got plenty of years left ahead of you. How is Murray doing?"

"Murray is well, thank you. He's asleep right now."

"Well, this is something both of you can enjoy," said Wylfred, handing His Excellency his gift.

Roienbourg's eyes widened as he took it in his hand. "Wylfred…this is…"

"It's an electronic massager," Wylfred explained as Ancel tried not to laugh. "You mentioned that both you and Murray have arthritis, so I thought this would be the perfect gift for you."

"Wylfred, where did you get this?"

"I had to ask Ancel here to get it for me. They wouldn't let anyone under 18 buy it, I guess because they don't want kids to hurt themselves."

Roienbourg nodded. "Well, I sincerely appreciate it." He appeared to be getting a bit flustered. "And I'm sure Murray will like it, too."

"You can use it on each other!" Wylfred suggested.

Roienbourg suddenly had to clear his throat. "Yes, we can. Again, thank you very much for your thoughtfulness."

"Well, Wyl, we should get going," Ancel spoke up. "It's getting late and we've still got a couple more houses to visit."

"Yeah, you're right," Wylfred agreed. "Well, Your Excellency, we must be on our way. Have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!"

"Thank you! Merry Christmas!"

Ancel groaned loudly as soon as Roienbourg was out of earshot. "That was so embarrassing, buying that and the flogger. I still can't believe I endured such an uncomfortable situation for that Funnel guy."

Tilte giggled.

"By the way, Wyl," Ancel continued, "what's up with the 'Your Excellency' thing?"

Wylfred's face turned serious and he stared off into the distance. "He…believed in me."

***

Their next destination was the home of the Horn family: Valmur, Nicolas, and Phiona, and their parents Auguste and Reinhilde.

"I can't wait to meet them!" exclaimed Tilte. "They sound really friendly."

"They're friendly, all right," Wylfred muttered. "They're almost terrifying in their friendliness." He rang the doorbell.

"Wylfred!" bellowed Auguste, and before the boy could stop him, he embraced him in an even tighter hug than Earnest's.

"Hi!" Wylfred gasped, his voice nearly squeezed out of him.

"This guy is terrifying," Ancel whispered to Tilte, who nodded.

"Reinhilde! Valmur! Phiona! Nicolas!" Auguste's voice boomed like a cannon, and Tilte and Ancel had to cover their ears. "Wylfred's here, and he bought friends!"

"Wylfred!?" Reinhilde raced into the living room, her hands clasped together. "Oh, it is you! Hello, my dears!"

"H-hi," Ancel and Tilte stammered together.

"Please, come in," she added. Wylfred nodded to his friends, and the three entered the Horn house.

"Reinhilde, could you help me in the kitchen?" Auguste asked his wife, and she nodded. The elderly couple exited the room.

"Hi, Wylfred." Phiona had a big smile on her face. "So, did you come here for…"

"Yes, yes," Wylfred sighed. "I probably had to go to more trouble for your present than anyone else's. And I have a bad feeling Ancel's going to hate me."

"Why would I hate you?" Ancel asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "Wylfred? What have you done?"

Instead of answering, Wylfred reached into his sack and took out an envelope. "Here you go. Enjoy."

Phiona eager opened the envelope and pulled out two 8x10 glossies. One was of Wylfred, shirtless and soaking wet, wringing out his hair as he stared sensuously into the camera. The other was of a sleeping Ancel clad in only his boxers, on his back with his arms and legs spread out on his bed.

Ancel was floored. "W-w-w-w-w-when did you take that?! Oh my gods, Wyl! That's…that's…!" Not even his two best friends had ever seen his face get so red.

Phiona looked at Ancel, trying to hide her disappointment. "Would you like me to give this back?"

"No, it's all right," he groaned, his face behind his hands. "It's just…embarrassing. But I…I'm flattered that you want a picture of me. So please, take care of it."

"I…I will," Phiona said, then turned back to Wylfred. "Anyway, I would never ask you for something without buying you a gift in return. So I ordered this for you." And she handed him her gift—two X-rated doujinshi of the Battle-maiden and one of her lackies. Uncensored, which was rare for that particular medium. "One of them is for Ancel."

"Amazing," Wylfred breathed. "Is this in Japanese? I've never seen one before!"

"What is it?" asked Ancel, who was still covering his face with his hands.

"Oh, stop moping and take it like a man. It's authentic Yamato porn! This is a cultural breakthrough! Now we can fully immerse ourselves in Yamato culture!"

Ancel pulled his hands away from his eyes and took a look. "Whoa!" His face turned red again. "Hey, Wyl, it might be a good idea if we put this away for now."

"I think they like their gift," Tilte commented to Phiona.

Phiona nodded and grinned. "And I love mine."

"Phiona!" cried a doting voice. Wylfred and Ancel looked up from their gifts to see Valmur run up and give her a big hug. "Look at you, all grown up. You've finally become a woman!"

"What the hell, brother?" snapped Phiona. "I don't need your approval!"

"Isn't she adorable?" Valmur beamed with pride. "How about it, gentlemen? Would one of you like to marry my cute little sister?"

"Brother!"

"So where's Nicolas?" asked Wylfred, seeking to change the subject.

Valmur shrugged. "I tried to wake him, but he's sleeping like the dead. Not even the phone made him get out of bed."

"Who was that, anyway?" Phiona asked.

"It was Fauxnel." Valmur turned and looked at Wylfred with a serious look on his face. "Are you the one who got him that new flogger?"

Phiona's cheeks turned pink. "Flogger?"

"No, Ancel did," said Wylfred.

Ancel's jaw dropped. "You asked me to! I had no idea I was going to be buying a new tool of perversion for that guy!"

"So, there is some kink hiding behind that pretty face," Phiona mused.

Valmur shook his head. "I think you've done something irreversible, Wylfred. Do you know he called me up just to tell me about it? He even asked me if I wanted to come over and see it. He was so excited, I actually felt a little bad telling him it was too late." He leaned forward, looking more closely at one of the photos, and frowned. "Is that you?"

"Yeah. Oh, that reminds me!" Wylfred reached into his sack and pulled out a large book. "I got something for you, too."

"Oh, that's nice of…Oh my gods!" Valmur ran his fingers over the title as if unable to believe what he was holding. "The complete works of John Marston! I've been looking all over for this! Where on earth did you find it? And how did you know I preferred him to Shakespeare?"

"I found it at the local thrift store. And I figured you'd probably read most of Shakespeare, anyway, so I asked around for some other contemporaries."

"Well, thank you. Marston is a brilliant satirist, but he doesn't get a lot of attention with Shakespeare stealing the spotlight. It's quite tragic, actually."

Phiona sighed. "Now that you've let him, he will go on and on about Marston. You'd better just shut him up right now."

But that was unnecessary, for it was at that moment that Reinhilde and Auguste appeared in the room again.

"Supper's ready!" Auguste announced. "Come, let's eat. Would you three like to join, too? There's plenty."

Wylfred shook his head. "No thank you, sir. We need to visit a couple of more places, and it's getting awfully late. But I want to at least give you two your presents." He reached into his sack and pulled out a pipe and a big bottle of vodka.

"This was the pipe of the year!" Auguste exclaimed gleefully.

"This vodka is really hard to get in this country!" Reinhilde marveled. "How did you get it?"

"I had an old friend hook me up." Suddenly, Wylfred gasped. "Oh! Dammit! I forgot all about Duwain! He's so easy to forget! He just kind of blends in."

Ancel groaned. "Does this mean we have to walk all the way back to where he lives?"

"I can drive you," Valmur offered. "As thanks for the gifts you've given our family."

Wylfred nodded. "That would be nice."

***

Duwain's house was somewhat isolated from the rest of the neighborhood. There was still a sign on his overgrown lawn supporting the losing candidate in the most recent election.

"Seeing this guy always depresses me," Wylfred grumbled as they walked up the driveway.

It was about a minute after ringing the doorbell that Duwain answered the door. "Oh, hello, Wylfred. What are you doing here?"

"I came to give you something," said Wylfred. "Here." He thrust a small but thick book into Duwain's hands. "I think you could use this."

Duwain frowned. "'15,000 Things to Be Happy About'? Impossible. No one could ever think of that many things. The entire world combined could never think of that many things."

"You're depressing me. Watch some Disney movies or something, huh? Life's not that bad. Later."

***

Valmur also drove them to their next destination before returning home.

"So…We're actually going to meet THE Langrey?" Ancel asked. "You've got some friends in high places, don't you, Wyl?"

"I guess." Wylfred shrugged. "I don't ask to meet these people. They just sort of appear." He sighed. "I'm getting tired. We should make this quick."

"It looks like a scary house," Tilte said nervously. "Look at all those lights. And they're not Christmas lights. This looks like something I'd see at Halloween."

"Langrey's sort of a paranoid dick. He makes his house really creepy in order to keep visitors away. He's not a bad sort, though. Cares about his brother, at least."

The knocker was heavy and in the shape of a gargoyle's face. Wylfred lifted them hesitantly, then knocked.

A minute passed. Then, two minutes.

"Looks like he's not home," said Ancel.

Wylfred shook his head. "No, he's home. He always does this."

Finally, the door creaked open and Langrey appeared in the doorway. "Who are these people with you?"

"My friends. Tilte and Ancel."

"Why didn't you blindfold them?"

"I forgot."

"Why are you here?"

"A present for you." Wylfred reached into his sack and pulled out a bag of chocolate truffles. "Here. Merry Christmas."

In that instant, Langrey's hard gaze melted and he stared at the bag of sweets in front of him. "Wylfred…" He eagerly took the bag, opened it, seized one of the truffles, unwrapped it, and bit into it.

A pause, as Langrey let the flavor sink in. Then, a low, sensuous moan.

"Mmmmm…Now this is real chocolate." He put the rest of the truffle in his mouth, then threw his head back and sighed in contentment. "Thank you, Wylfred…ohhhh. Absolutely delicious. Heaven on earth."

Tilte had begun to blush a little, and Ancel was trying not to snicker.

"I will enjoy these very much," Langrey informed him. "Thank you. And Merry Christmas." He closed the door.

"That," said Wylfred, "is how you get on his good side."

***

"How nice to see you, Wylfred!" Kristoff's smile was genuine. He was the exact opposite of his brother—warm, friendly, and trusting. "Won't you come in?"

Wylfred shook his head. "I'm sorry. But we have one more stop we need to make after this." He handed his gift to Kristoff.

Kristoff's eyes widened in amazement. "A…a sundial watch! I can't tell you how long I've been meaning to buy one of these! But I always forget…"

"Langrey told me you collect watches," Wylfred explained, "and I wanted to get you one that you might not have."

"Yes, I do collect watches. They're all set to Hong Kong time. The first watch my father ever gave me…he bought in Hong Kong." His face turned serious and he looked at Wylfred. "Are you still working on your…revenge?"

Wylfred got a genuinely creepy smile on his face. "Yes! It is almost complete!"

"You said you're not going to hurt anyone?"

"Don't worry. I'm pretty sure I won't." Wylfred began to shake with excitement. "Actually, we must be going." He grabbed Tilte and Ancel. "See ya later!"

"Merry Christmas, Wylfred!"

"Uh-huh!"

"That guy looked kind of like you, Tilte," Ancel said.

Tilte smiled and shook her head. "No…he's much cuter than me."

Wylfred groaned. "She does like the pretty type!"

***

Finally, they had arrived at the place where everything would reach its climax. It was a large house, big enough to accommodate half a dozen people. Maybe more.

It was the house of Lenneth Valkyrie.

"Unbelievable," Tilte breathed. "So this is where…the Battle-maiden lives?"

"She must be loaded," Ancel marveled. "Look at all the windows. Look at this walkway. I bet she has a marble staircase."

"Looks can be deceiving." Wylfred's chest was heaving with excitement. He could feel his heart pound, as though it were about to burst. His body felt both hot and cold. His chest felt tight. His breath was coming in gasps and pants.

"Hey, hey, Wylfred…calm down. You're just going to give her a present, remember? She might not even take it if you act like a stalker, or a dog in heat."

"I've never seen you so excited," Tilte observed.

Ignoring their comments, shaking with anticipation, Wylfred lifted the knocker and struck the large door three times.

Lenneth appeared at the door almost instantly. "You must be Wylfred. I've been expecting you."

His face burned bright red as he presented Lenneth with his present. "I-I-I-I-I-I-I baked you a fruitcake." He glared, as if daring her to reject it.

She smiled warmly at him, graciously accepting his kitchen disaster. "How thoughtful of you. I love fruitcake, you know."

Wylfred's eyes widened in amazement. "You do?"

"Yes. My sisters think I'm crazy, but it's my favorite holiday treat. Would you like to come inside? You look cold. I have some hot chocolate and Christmas cookies."

"What?" Wylfred gasped. "You think I'd trust you to—"

"Oh, come on, Wyl." Ancel pushed past his friend and made his way inside. "Isn't it about time you stopped letting your silly obsession get in the way."

"Sorry, Wyl, but I agree." Tilte walked in after Ancel.

Wylfred sighed and walked in. "Fine. But can I use your phone to call my mom? She'll get worried if I stay out much longer."

Lenneth nodded. "Of course. I will get it right after I make the hot chocolate." And she went inside the kitchen.

Ancel sighed with relief as he took off his coat. "Finally. I am so glad we're done. I thought I would freeze my ass off."

Suddenly, Wylfred gasped again. "Oh, no!"

"What?" Tilte's face fell. "We have to go somewhere else now?"

"Well…I forgot to deliver someone else a present." Wylfred shook his head. "I can't believe it. How could I forget…?"

"Who is it?" asked Tilte.

"The readers. I didn't get anything for the readers!" Wylfred put his head in his hands and shook his head again. Then, he evidently had an idea, for he lowered his hands and looked up with a resolute expression. "I've got it!"

He walked over to Ancel. "I'm sorry to do this, but I need you to trust me. Think of the readers. You must think of the readers, and follow my lead."

"All…all right."

"Now, close your eyes and hold very still."

"Got it." Ancel closed his eyes and waited expectantly.

"Keep them closed." Wylfred leaned forward and, after hesitating only a moment, kissed Ancel on the mouth.

Ancel's eyes snapped open. "Wmmmph!" he exclaimed, his cry of surprise muffled by Wylfred's lips on his own. But once he got over the shock, he closed his eyes again and began to return the kiss.

"Mmmm…" Wylfred moaned softly as he parted Ancel's lips with his tongue. With one hand he grabbed Ancel's head, sliding the other under his shirt.

"Ahh!" Ancel pulled away just long enough to cry out before kissing Wylfred again, sucking softly on his lips and tongue. They began to run their hands over each other's chest and sides, making appreciative sounds as they curiously explored their newfound passion.

Finally, they broke apart, exhausted and content.

"Wyl…" Ancel said.

"Oh…my gods…"

Both turned at the sound of Tilte's voice. She was looking at them with an expression they'd never seen before.

"This," she panted, "is the best Christmas present I could ever get."

Wylfred and Ancel both grinned at her, and then at each other. It was going to be a great Christmas.

And Lenneth, standing in the doorway with a cordless phone in her hand, realized that she was going to stay up late tonight.

THE END