Scrooge You

AN: So close! VICTORY SHALL BE MINE!

Er. Translation: One more chapter to go. Thanks for the reviews! You guys rock my world!

Act Nine: Stolen Shoujo, Covered Tombstones

Lambert was a brave man. It was an aspect of his character that had been ingrained throughout his knighthood during the Dark Ages, as well as attempting to run a small business in a predominately big box retail economy. He was unafraid of torture, of pain, of nagging women, but one thing…one sole thing made his powder blue fleece-covered kneecaps squeeze together in raw terror.

"You," he whispered, his voice high pitched and his lower lip trembling.

"Me," came the cool, clipped, and deadly voice of one Jimena Castillo. She stood, looking rather bored, with one hip propped up and her arms folded across her chest. She was dressed head to toe in black, a bandana tied tightly across her forehead with 'El Futuro' (Jimena was bilingual, and sought to establish some culture this Feliz Navidad) scrawled across it.

Lambert was quickly backing away, "It was nice seeing you, but my apartment's that way, and I'm very busy tonight-"

"Freeze!" Jimena barked.

Lambert froze.

"I don't want to be here anymore than you," she said coldly, a dark aura surrounding her, "But Selene commanded that we redeem your sorry ass so you are going to sit down, shut up, and be goddamned redeemed. Comprede?"

Lambert sat down and nodded silently.

"Bueno." Jimena said, the darkened aura vanishing, "Now, let's get this shit over with. I've got the ability to take you to only one future Christmas so let's make it a good one."

Lambert stood up, an eyebrow raised, "Only one?"

Jimena glared at him, "Yes. Only one."

"But the others took me on many-"

"Do you have a problem with how I do things?" She snapped.

Lambert lowered his head, looking at the now grimy toes of his footy pajamas, "No ma'am."

"Then let's go. Follow me into this ominous portal." With that, an ominous portal, framed by day glow neon signs, appeared. Jimena sauntered into it, and Lambert reluctantly trailed after her.

---

When the odd pair exited, the portal disappeared behind them. Lambert was a bit freaked by this, but didn't want to squeal girlishly in front of the intimidating Daughter and so wisely kept his mouth shut. They were standing in the downtrodden part of Los Angeles, several hobos were huddling around garbage fires, rubbing their hands together for warmth. One of them was peeing on a mailbox. Such a strange time this was indeed.

Rain poured down from the sky, leading Lambert to wonder how a garbage fire could continue to function, and several men in dark, hooded robes were crowded around under several umbrellas. Lambert, knowing that every man that had an umbrella opened for rain was a sissy, immediately recognized them.

"I know these men! They're from the Incinti!"

Jimena rolled her eyes, "No talking." She hissed.

Lambert was quiet again, but he strained his ear to hear the conversation.

"I heard he's finally kicked the bucket," chortled a heavier Incinti member.

"I heard he cried during The Notebook!" Another one supplied.

"What a sissy!" Said the fat one. Several of the Incinti members chuckled heartily.

"It's about time he's gone, but now I wonder what he did with all of his money!"

"Don't be foolish, he never had any money! I have it on good authority that he bought all of his dark robes from Sears!" Came a tall one.

"Do ho ho," laughed the group.

Lambert turned to Jimena, a soulful look in his eyes, "Spirit-"

"Jimena."

"Spirit Jimena-"

"Just Jimena fool."

"Jimena fool, who is this man that these Followers talk so much smack about?"

Jimena growled, wondering how someone who was such an idiot could survive for so long, "Just follow me."

Lambert shrugged, and Jimena led him inside of an almost dilapidated warehouse. There, Lambert was surprised to see, was a large divan, that was surrounded by tons of antiquities and oddly enough a hookah pipe. A rather strapping young lad lay sprawled across the divan, and a blonde girl who looked awfully familiar was kneeling in front of him.

"Let's see, let's see, what have you got for Old Jerome?" The boy said, sitting up and looking at the blonde.

The blonde huffed, "Cut the crap Jerome, you're only twenty five."

Jerome's lower lip quibbled, "You're so mean Morgan!"

The girl rolled her eyes, "What. Ever."

Lambert turned towards Jimena, "I think my girlfriend was once in her pants."

Jimena's eyebrow ticked.

"The old fart barely had anything tasteful," Morgan said, opening up a rather large sack, "All I was able to find is this-" she handed Old Jerome some books.

Lambert squealed when he saw what they were, "Ouran High School Host Club Limited Edition! I have that volume at home!" He felt Jimena's glare on him, and he cleared his throat awkwardly, "Er, it's a very valuable collectible. I feel horrible for whoever this hussy stole it from."

Morgan sneezed, before digging into the sack again, "And this-"

Lambert squealed again, "The entire boxed set of Buffy the Vampire Slayer season three! That's the best season by far! I love my copy!"

Jimena crossed her arms and wondered when Lambert would finally get the picture.

"Ah, it will fetch a high price on Amazon dot com," Old Jerome said appreciatively. Some things were just timeless. Buffy the Vampire Slayer was one of those things.

"And there was this too." Morgan said at last, revealing man-sized footy pajamas that were powder blue in color and had a fish with the saying 'Catch of the Day' on them.

Lambert's eyes widened, "Those are identical to my pajamas! I thought they were a one of a kind pair!"

Jimena exhaled happily, glad that Lambert was seeing reason.

"Those bastards! Mass producing my nighties!" Lambert cried in indignation, "Someone will pay."

Jimena gaped at him in a sort of horrified curiosity. Was he really that dumb? She slammed her palm against her face, "You know what, let's go somewhere else."

Lambert pouted, "But I want to see what else this girl has in her magical bag of fun-"

"No."

Lambert fell silent and allowed himself to be dragged away to another scene.

---

His face fell when he recognized a very familiar one roomed house with a hole the size of Lambert's head in the wall. "Not here again," he whined.

"Just shut up and be humbled." Jimena declared, looking at her watch, "We're running behind schedule as it is because certain morons can't take a freaking clue."

Lambert stared at her in confusion, "But Jimena fool, there's only the two of us here-"

Just then the door to the one roomed house flew open, a rather distraught Murray sobbing viciously as he ran out of the building and into the merciless cold of a seventy degree night clad in nothing but a Goodbye Franchise midriff shirt.

"Tears!" cried Lambert, "This is the best Fourth Week of December ever!"

Jimena scowled and grabbed Lambert by the collar, dragging him into the house.

Cassandra sat in front of a stove, sniffling sadly while Skipper fed the fire with the U-Haul dinner plates. Karyl was laughing violently, rolling around on bubble wrap that was placed on the ground.

"Wee!" Karyl said giggling, "Murray's gone and I have bubble wrap! This is the best Christmas ever!"

Cassandra nodded, her sniffles caused by tears of joy escalating brilliantly now that the lame ass Follower was gone forever.

"Who would have thought that all we had to do was insult his hairstyle?" Contributed Skipper, tossing the plates into the uncontrolled fire happily.

Lambert turned to Jimena, "Is there a point to any of this?"

"Just watch moron."

"…okay," he said in a small voice.

The door to the one-roomed house opened suddenly, and a somber looking Stanton entered the room. His hair, once fabulous, was now slightly less fabulous as it hung over his eyes morosely.

Cassandra, ever the clingy whore for attention, flocked to his side immediately, "How was the hilltop?" She said in a soft voice.

Stanton sighed dramatically, "You should have been there, Cassandra, it was so green."

Cassandra's nose wrinkled a bit in distaste, but Stanton saw the need to continue talking melodramatically.

"The hill overlooks the harbor, and you can see the ducks swimming down the river."

"Tymmie…always did enjoy watching the ducks swim in the river," Cassandra agreed sadly.

Karyl stopped his incessant rolling and stared out into the distance wistfully. Skipper turned her back on the slowly spreading fire, wiping her eyes on the cardboard.

"Is Tiny Tymmie dead or something?" Lambert asked tactlessly at Jimena, who shrugged, obviously in that special state of not-give-a-damn.

"The worst part is…" Stanton trailed off and patiently waited until he held everyone's undivided attention, "Is that with Tiny Tymmie moving out, our attractiveness as a whole is down by about ten percent."

All three of the other Followers gasped, clutching their hearts.

"It's true." Stanton said, tossing his hair, "I'm going to have to cover all of the slack now that Tiny Tymmie is gone. If only my greedy, heartless, totally dead and grave robbed employer had given me enough money. Then perhaps I could have supported another lackey and improved our physical appeal."

Cassandra patted Stanton's arm consolingly, "There, there dear. At least Murray left."

"Finally." Grunted Karyl and Skipper in unison.

Lambert's mouth fell slack, "You mean Stanton has another boss now?!"

Jimena clenched her fist, this evil, unattractive man was as dense as granite. She stood up, grabbed his collar again, and started pulling him into another ominous portal. "I've got shit to do you know, and you're dragging ass on this whole humble revelation thing."

Lambert scratched his head, "I just don't understand what you're saying-"

"Of course you don't." Jimena snarled before they were whisked away.

---

They reemerged in an eerie looking graveyard, pale tombstones covered in frost surrounding them. Scratching his head, Lambert looked at Jimena, "Alright, now I'm really lost."

Jimena responded by promptly kicking him in the butt, sending him flying towards one of the grave markers. His head collided with the thing, and he fought down the- very manly mind you- whimpers of pain. He didn't want to appear weak in front of the scary Daughter.

"Why would you kick me?" He accused hurtfully.

"Just look at the tombstone."

"But it hurt-"

"The tombstone. Look at it."

Lambert sniffled and used the sleeve of his pajamas to start wiping away at the frost. Slowly, letters began to form. Lambert looked back in awe.

"LAMB MAMA?" He asked in confusion.

"For god's sake, erase all of the frost you idiot!" Barked Jimena, getting very cross indeed.

Lambert sighed, and finished clearing the frost. Terror dawned upon his pinched features.

LAMBERT MALMARIS

"Hey! That's my name!"

Jimena exhaled happily, "About freaking time."

"That doesn't make any sense whatsoever! I'm too Immortal to die!" Lambert protested.

Deciding that this was a lost cause and Selene could just take a celestial hike, Jimena gripped Lambert's cold, clammy, unwashed hand and the two vanished. Again. She was getting pretty good at it.

---

Lambert woke up to find himself in his bed. After giving a careful lookout to make sure the Goddess He Feared Most of All had disappeared, he settled comfortably into his covers.

"Stupid Selene, thinking she could scare me by having my name on a tombstone. What a laugh," he said drowsily, returning to a sweet, sweet slumber.

However, it then hit Lambert like a gagillion volts of electricity.

"Oh shit!" He proclaimed, sitting up straight with a horrified look in his eyes, "That was my stuff they were stealing!" He looked skyward, "I'll change! I swear I'll change!"

And Lambert crawled back into bed, awaiting Christmas fearfully with his shoujo manga collection tucked securely under his arm.

Next Up: "You there, boy!" "I'm a girl!" "Whatever! Bring me a big ass turkey!"