Summary: (Christmas Special) Foop accidentally injures Santa Claus on Christmas Eve, so he and his parents must deliver the presents themselves.
I have a Christmas special for all of you! Enjoy!
Wreck the Halls
"Thanks again for getting me the death ray I wanted, guys!" Foop said, cradling his new weapon as though it were the most precious thing in the world.
It was Christmas Eve, but no anti-fairies cared about that. They, as a species, celebrated Hanukkah, and that night was the night after the eight days had passed. As per tradition, Foop received eight presents, but his favorite was definitely the ray gun he held in his small hands.
"Aw, you have fun with it, sweetie," his mother gushed. "Happy night after Hanukkah! And, merry Christmas Eve! Even though anti-fairies don't celebrate Christmas."
"Enjoy your new toy, son. But, be careful," Anti-Cosmo warned. "That thing can cause a killing blow with just one hit."
Foop waved off the reminder. "Father, you worry too much. I'll be super careful to only aim it at our greatest of enemies. Like Timmy Turner or Chloe Carmichael or Stanford Pines."
"Don't kill Stanford," Anti-Wanda requested. "That feller still owes me money. As for Timmy and Chloe, I don't care what ya do."
Anti-Cosmo grinned suggestively and wrapped an arm around his wife's waist. "Now, your mother and I need to do something of utmost importance in our room." Anti-Wanda returned the grin. "Do not disturb us unless it's life or death. Got it?"
Completely oblivious, Foop gave a mock salute. "You got it, Father. You two go ahead and do whatever it is you're talking about. If you need me, don't! I'll be enjoying my Hanukkah presents." With that, he poofed himself on to the roof of the castle and breathed in the rank night air. He exhaled with a relaxed smile. "I couldn't have asked for a more beautiful night to terrorize the innocent. Only one thing could make this better." He raised his bottle, making his pet vampig appear beside him. "Good evening, Vladimir. I see you're still wearing the scarf I gave you for Hanukkah." Vladimir, a an indigo scarf wrapped around his fat neck, oinked happily. "And, now I have an audience for my destruction. Watch and learn, Vladimir." Foop peered through the scope on his death ray, wondering what he should destroy first.
"Ho ho ho!"
Foop turned his death ray's scope in the direction of the hearty laugh. He smiled. "Oh, look, Vladimir! Santa Claus is making his yearly round. Check it out!" He held the scope down for his pet to peer through. "How many people can say that they saw Santa flying through the sky on Christmas Eve?" He held back up the scope and looked at Santa through it once more. "Even if we don't celebrate Christmas, you have to admit that's pretty cool. I'm gonna try to zoom in a little."
Foop pursed his lips in thought, wondering which button would zoom in the lense. Unfortunately, in his search he accidentally squeezed the trigger on the gun. He shrieked in surprise and horror as it fired.
In Santa's direction.
"Ho ho-" Santa glanced up at the approaching beam and shrank back in shock. "Oh no!"
Mortified beyond words, Foop covered his eyes as an agonized scream tore at his pointed ears, punctuated by the cries of eight terrified reindeer. One flew by him, startling him out of the air and on to Vladimir's back. The vampig squealed in surprise and knocked Foop back on to the rooftop. Foop forced himself to look down at Santa who was getting smaller and smaller and...falling out of the sky! Foop screamed and poofed up the softest mattress he could for Santa to land on.
Now close to hyperventilating, he looked frantically around. Fortunately, no one was around to see that except… Foop glared at his pet and snapped, "You saw nothing!" before poofing - PANIC! - himself on the mattress that Santa landed on down on Earth.
Santa didn't appear severely injured, but he was definitely out cold. "Santa?" Foop squeaked. He gingerly grabbed Santa's wrist. And, in that moment, Foop didn't know if he would cry, scream, or throw up. "He's… He's… Oh gosh!"
No pulse. Santa Claus had no pulse!
"Oh gosh! Oh my gosh! What have I done?"
"What have you done, Foop?"
Crud. Now, Halo - his second personality - was rearing his ugly head. Foop scowled. "This is all your fault!"
"Really? I blame you!"
"Oh, you would! That's so like you!" Foop blanched as he took another look at the body. He'd always thought that murder would be fun. But, this… "What are we gonna do!?"
"You have to confess, Foop!" Halo demanded.
Foop's stomach flipped over at the thought. "Confess? Confess? Are you out of our mind!? We just need to come up with an alibi! Uh, I-I was in my room! Playing with my new toys! That's believable, right?" Halo didn't respond, but Foop felt his disappointment and deflated. "Oh, you're right, Halo." He took in a shaky breath. "I-I have to tell someone."
Foop practically threw open the door to his parents' room. "MOTHER, FATHER, I-" He gaped at the sight before him. His father - who was not wearing a shirt - had his mother pinned to the bed. Both, of their faces turned a mortified purple at the sight of him. "Uh, what are you guys doing?"
"Nothing!" they piped up at the same time, flying off the bed and poofing themselves back into their normal clothes.
Anti-Wanda looked anywhere but her son. Anti-Cosmo awkwardly cleared his throat. "Foop, I, um, I-I thought that-that I said not to interrupt unless it was life or death."
"It is life or death!" Foop exclaimed. "Mostly death!"
Foop was pretty sure that his father's cry of "SWEET MOTHER OF QUEEN ELIZABETH'S MOTHER!" would haunt him for the rest of his existence.
The three of them floated over what used to be a beloved Christmas icon...and one of the few beings who all species liked, including anti-fairies.
Anti-Wanda raised an eyebrow at the body. "Wait. Before we pronounce him dead, let me perform the true test." She cracked her knuckles, picked a stick up off the ground, and poked the body with it. Nothing happened. Anti-Wanda screamed, "AAAAHHHHH! HE'S DEAD!"
"That's what I was trying to tell you!" Foop swallowed the lump in his throat, not allowing his guilt to show through.
Anti-Cosmo turned to him with true fear in his eyes - something Foop had never seen before. "Foop, did you see how this happened?"
Tell him! Halo silently pleaded. Tell him now!
"N-No," Foop lied. "I didn't see. Santa was like this when I found him." Halo tried to push his way back into control of their shared body, but Foop pushed back twice as hard. "What are we going to do?"
Anti-Wanda frowned in determination. "I say we find the killer and rip his bones out right through his skin!"
Foop swallowed hard.
"Calm yourselves, you two," Anti-Cosmo chided, despite looking like a bomb ready to detonate and take out an entire village. "I don't like this anymore than you do, but we can't do anything about it. Now, look behind you." They all turned around, and Foop flinched at the sight of the destroyed red sleigh and huge sack of toys spilled out all over the snow. "We can't bring Santa back, but we can honor him by finishing his run. As much as it pains me, we must deliver the remaining gifts to the children they belong to."
Anti-Wanda nodded solemnly. "Santa would want that."
Yeah, he would. Foop couldn't bring him back...but he could do that much. Except… "But, Father, how will we know what present goes where?"
Anti-Cosmo hummed in thought and flew over to the pieces of sleigh. He picked up something metal that had been wedged into a bush. He adjusted his monocle and examined it. "Looks like the GPS is still in tact. Folks, we've got a mission."
He raised his wand and reassembled the sleigh. Since they couldn't use the reindeer, he also added a magic engine so that it would fly. He then magicked all the gifts back into the bag and sat it in the back.
"But, what about Santa?" Halo whined.
Anti-Cosmo sighed sadly. "We'll deal with him later. Right now, we have to honor him by finishing his rounds for him."
Foop knew that wasn't what Halo meant. He wanted Foop to tell the truth. Jumping back into control, Foop floated after his parents, who were already seated in the sleigh, his father at the new steering wheel. "Um, guys?"
"Whatever it is can wait, son," Anti-Cosmo said as he started up the engine.
Anti-Wanda wrapped an arm around her son. "Right now, we gotta big ol' job to do!"
Foop shivered from more than the cold. This was going to be a long night.
It was a little confusing, trying to figure out how the GPS worked and how to get themselves down the chimneys without making a ton of noise, but they eventually got a rhythm going. Halo, of course, had been nagging Foop the entire time. When his parents asked about Foop's distress, he told them that he was shaken by Santa's death. It wasn't a lie. An understatement but not a lie.
"Who's next?" Anti-Cosmo asked.
Anti-Wanda looked at the GPS. "Chloe Carmichael."
Anti-Cosmo scowled. "Ugh. Of course. I wish we were capable of just poofing her presents into her house. Stupid magic gifts." He landed the sleigh on the roof of the Carmichael house.
Chloe was woken up by a loud noise on the roof. It took her sleepy mind a moment to remember, but a huge grin spread across her face as she realized that it was Christmas Eve. Santa must have been there! She wanted so badly to go and see if that was true, but she knew she wasn't allowed to. She threw her head back on her pillow and closed her eyes, trying to force herself to go back to sleep.
Something smashed downstairs. She bolted upright. Did Santa accidentally break something? She couldn't take it anymore. She hopped out of bed and crept out of her room. She didn't go down the stairs though. As long as she didn't actually see Santa and only listened, then no rules were broken, right?
She heard voices. Three of them. Santa must have brought some elves to help him. One was a woman with a Southern accent, and the other two voices were British men. Santa was British?
Wait… She knew those voices.
Chloe raced downstairs, grateful that her parents hadn't woken up. Despite their heroic natures and survival instincts, those two could have slept through the apocalypse. Chloe gasped at the sight before her then snarled. Three all-too-familiar anti-fairies gaped at her, completely stunned. What were they doing in her house? And, on Christmas Eve, no less?
"Pardon my French," she whisper-shouted, "but what the holy heck is going on!?"
Anti-Cosmo was the first to regain his composure. He cleared his throat. "Young lady, that is a rather...difficult story."
"Ya see, sweetie," Anti-Wanda began solemnly. "Santa Claus is d-"
Anti-Cosmo elbowed her in the ribs. "Out of commission. Santa can't be here right now, so we're lending a hand."
"Of course," Chloe agreed sarcastically. "And, I'm queen of the planet You're-Full-of-Boloney."
Foop sighed. "Chloe, I realized this looks a tad, well, weird out of context. But, you just have to trust us." Chloe inwardly flinched at the sheer sadness that came over the young anti-fairy's face. What was the context? "Foop did something stupid. Something that can never be fixed." Why was Foop referring to himself in the third person? Out of the corner of her eye, Chloe noticed Anti-Cosmo tense up. "He can't change what he's done, but he can at least try to do something good. I imagine a girl as sweet as you can understand that."
Well, yes, she could understand wanting to make up for bad choices. She just wished she understood what Foop was talking about. And, why his father looked ready to burst into flames. But, it seemed that they weren't up to anything bad (except the vase that one of them broke), so she shrugged. "Okay. Um, merry Christmas. I guess."
Stupid Halo. He'd taken control of their body in stupid Carmichael's house. The lad may as well have flat-out told their parents about what Foop did.
I loathe you, Foop mentally snarled.
But, Halo was way too smug for Foop's liking. You'll thank me for that later.
No, I don't see that happening.
"That was Halo, correct?" Anti-Cosmo's dangerously calm voice broke through the mental argument, as he leaned against the sleigh, still on the Carmichael's roof.
Foop forced a laugh. "Oh, that split personality of mine. You never what nonsense will pop out of his mouth."
It seemed that, as usual, Anti-Wanda was the only one who had absolutely no idea what was going on. "Yeah, that was pretty darn weird. I think Halo might be missing some marbles. You ain't done nothing, have you, sweetie?"
Foop and Halo fought for dominance.
"Foop," Anti-Cosmo gave his son a hard look, "how did Santa die?"
"He didn't see, remember?" Anti-Wanda reminded.
Foop willed himself to stop shaking and sweating. It didn't work. He swallowed hard and confessed in a small voice, "I...I might know."
"Wait, you did see?" Anti-Wanda's pink eyes glowed with rage. "What happened? I wanna rip the killer's eyeballs out!"
"Alright, I confess," Foop said finally. "Timmy Turner did it! He was playing with a death ray, and he accidentally fired it at Santa!"
Anti-Cosmo stood with his arms crossed, glowering at his son. Still not sure what was going on, Anti-Wanda copied her husband's stance.
Choking back a sob, Foop exclaimed, "Okay, it was me! I was playing with my new death ray and I pulled the trigger and I hit Santa and I lied and-and-" Foop's willpower melted like snow and he collapsed in hysterical sobs. "And, he's dead! He's dead! I did i-it! It's my-my fau-ault!"
"Oh, my baby!" Anti-Wanda rushed to her son's side and held him as he wailed.
Anti-Cosmo just stood there in shock at the sight. His son had cried before, but… "Wow, you're crying...really hard…"
And, just when Foop thought he couldn't be anymore guilty or humiliated, he heard Santa's jolly laughter echoing in his head. "Oh, now I hear his stupid laughter!"
The laugh came louder this time accompanied by the sound of bells. Curious, Anti-Wanda held a hand around her ear and listened. "Hark! A Herald Angel sings."
Anti-Cosmo stared up at the sky in awe. "That's no angel…"
Foop wiped his eyes and gazed incredulously at the things flying toward them. Eight reindeer, with someone riding on the one in the front. But, that wasn't possible! He flew out of his mother's grasp. "Santa?"
Against all odds, Santa Claus flew down and landed the reindeer on the roof. He hopped off the reindeer he'd been riding. "Thanks so much for helping me deliver the gifts, guys!"
"Santa?" Foop repeated, still convinced that he was going insane. "Like, Santa-Santa?"
"But, that ain't possible!" Anti-Wanda gaped. "When I poked ya with a stick, ya didn't do nothing!"
Santa's smile didn't fade. "Guys, don't you know how Christmas Magic works? I never really 'die.' I just pass out for about an hour. But, I always return to my jolly old self!"
"Santa," Anti-Cosmo said pointedly, "you had no pulse."
Now, Santa frowned in confusion. "I didn't? Huh. I wonder if that happens every time."
Foop sighed sadly. "Santa, I… Oh, it hurts me to say this. I'm sorry I hurt you. When I wasn't trying to hurt you." With a heavy heart, he poofed up his death ray and handed it to Santa. "Here. Give this to someone who'll use it the right way: by obliterating their enemies and destroying anyone or anything that gets in their way."
Santa looked at the weapon floating in front of him and smiled, taking it. "That's very responsible of you, Foop. And, I think it benefits pretty much everyone."
"Are you mad that I almost killed you for real?"
"Heavens, no! Accidents happen. It's part of growing up."
Anti-Cosmo deadpanned. "He's still grounded. Just throwing that out there."
"Well, thanks again for all your help tonight." Santa used his own magic to harness the reindeer to the sleigh and seat himself in the sleigh. "Why don't you guys stop by the North Pole later? The elves throw a huge party to celebrate Christmas. Just consider it a show of gratitude."
"It would be an honor, sir," Anti-Wanda answered.
With a jolly cry of "Merry Christmas and, in your case, happy Hanukkah!" his reindeer flew him and his sleigh into the night sky.
Foop turned to his parents. "Boy, did I learn my lesson! Never operate lethal weapons unless you really know what you're doing."
Anti-Cosmo narrowed his eyes in annoyance. "Actually, I believe the lesson is 'tell the truth.'"
Foop pursed his lips. "No, I'm pretty sure I'm right."
Anti-Cosmo groaned and turned to his wife. "Anti-Wanda, back me up here."
"I'd love to," Anti-Wanda replied. "But, first, could someone please explain what's going on?"
Anti-Cosmo sighed and shrugged. "Oh, why do I even bother?"
The End
You didn't really think I'd kill off Santa, did you? Also, I call the split personality "Halo," because he seems to be Foop's good half.
Oh, one more thing! I'm going to have a little bit of a crossover. Meaning, I'm putting Anti-Cosmo, Anti-Wanda, and Foop into my Gravity Falls fic, "Before the Fall." I encourage you to check it out, but I should warn you that some of it might not make sense if you haven't read the rest of my "Before the Fall" series.
Review and merry Christmas! Or, happy Hanukkah. Whichever the case may be.
