Sixth Holiday Special: Secret Satan.
*interior shot of the Milano. Camera panes over the general mess and disorder, all hurriedly covered up with decorations rather than anyone tidying. Music plays as the camera pans round*
Tom Lehrer: Christmas Carol.
Peter Jason "Starlord" Quill sat on the steps between the cockpit and main deck of the Milano, wearing a Santa hat, tongue out the side of this mouth with concentration, as he struggled to wrap a present. Rocket, coming down the stairs swears at him for being in the way as he struggles past with paws full of wrapping paper, Gamora walks past in the for-ground of the shot, with tinsel, camera follows her as he moves and starts draping it over Groot, to complete his Christmas tree look, and then pans back to Quill, who has finished wrapping his present and hands it to Drax.
"Here, big guy, could you put this on the Secret Santa pile for me." He said, passing up what was quite clearly a battle axe wrapped in festive paper.
"Oh! Is it for me?"
"Well there is a label, but don't look until we announce the secret Santa…."
"Of course. Is it from you?"
"I… dude, you just saw me had it to you…."
Drax shook it, apparently listing for rattling. "Is a pony?"
"I… I honestly don't know how to answer that. And why would you shake it if you thought that? Just, just put it in the pile, Drax." Drax nodded, and went to put it in the pile, while Quill went to the kitchenette to get himself a beer. Looking slyly out the corner of her eye, Gamora watched them both move out of earshot before turning to Rocket.
"Okay, so if Quill has Drax and I saw Drax and Groot's gifts when they were wrapping, then I know from a process of elimination that you got Quill in the secret Santa."
"And so what if I had?" asked Rocket, moodily trying to hide what he was wrapping.
"So, did you get him anything, or did you forget again?"
"I mean, technically I can't forget, it's just if I was paying attention or cared at the time…."
"Rocket!"
"I… of course I got him something. I… I'm wrapping it right now!"
"You got him a bottle of liquid fertilizer guaranteed to cure yellow leaves, and a Rocket and Groot, best friends forever hoodie?"
"…Yes?" said Rocket, guiltily. He then yelped as Gamora picked him up by the scruff of his neck and raised him to her eye height.
"U-huh. Like you also remembered to get food for the Christmas dinner? We still need a main dish since someone decided to drag the Lizard carcass into an air vent and chew bits off over the course of a week as it stunk the place out."
"Okay, so, firstly, you have no proof that that wasn't Quill. That's profiling…"
"Rocket!"
"I'm busy, why do I have to get food and gifts?"
"Because you receive food and gifts so it's your turn to contribute. Because it's Life Day, or Yule or Christmas or whatever and Quill has his heart set on it! Because we're a family and because we look after each-other, and most importantly because I've been up since five am trying to organize a happy and successful party an if we don't have proper a roast I will cook the first available creature I can find that can find that will fit in this tray!" said Gamora, dropping Rocket into a large oven tray on the counter-top and knocking him back so he was sprawled in it.
""Er, but I fit in the tray…."
"I know. And Drax says your kind roasts up well…" said Gamora, brandishing an onion threateningly.
"Hey, get that thing away from me you crazy broad! You ain't stuffing that in my mouth and cooking me!"
"Oh, Trust me, it wasn't going in your mouth. Get the presents and food, Rocket."
"Allright, allright, jezz, you are one intense lady. I think you may have some mental health issues that you're taking out on me! But, seein' as it's the season of good will and all, I'll cut you some slack and get the stuff for a fee…"
"Now, Rocket!"
"Okay, Okay…. Fine: just help me out of this tray before Drax spots me like this and gets any ideas."
Gamora grunted, but helped the Racoon down as Drax returned from tending to the presents.
"Any ideas for what?" he asked.
"Presents. Come on, Drax, Groot, we're going shopping."
"Does this really require three people" asked Gamora, foot tapping.
"You trust me to buy stuff without bipedal supervision?" asked Rocket.
"Good point. Drax, Groot, make sure he pays for this out of his own money, and don't let him buy anything deadly as either food or a gift. And back in one hour, don't let him run off. It… it'll break Quill little heart if anything goes wrong this time after the previous Life Day disasters."
"Understood."
"I am Groot."
"Oh boy, fine. Fine I'll be good." Said Rocket, climbing down the ladder to the lower hatch with much bad grace, before hesitating and popping back up again.
"Just to check, humans eat roadkill, right?"
"Out!" said Gamora. Rocked, sighed, and got out.
After a moment Quill re-appeared.
"You manage to get him out?"
"Fool's errand, yeah." Said Gamora.
"Finally, at last we can wrap his presents without him looking over our shoulders, what you get him?"
" In the secret Santa? Sonic and flash pistol: basically a multi-use flashbang for room clearance. He's not keen on less than lethal options, but they just got banned for sometimes causing blindness and you know how he loves war crimes. What did you get for his stocking?"
"Cologne: ether he uses it and we deal with that weird wet-fur smell, or he drinks it in which case it's probably lower proof than his usual drinks and it might fix his morning breath. He's… he's not going to cause trouble is he?"
"Not unless he can cause havoc at the local market… so probably yes."
*Cut to Rocket, staring suspiciously at a well-preserved xenomorph face-hugger in a jar in the chaotic wet-market of Knowhere. *
"I dunno, I kind of want fresh and not pickled… what else have you got?" he asked.
"Well, we have a fine selection of sculpted spoo, 3D-printed protein we can seed with any stem-cell, if you want the novelty of eating any species of your course, even sapient or extinct, and all guilt free, delectable chunks of prime mythosaur-"
"What's that?" asked Drax, pointing over Rocket's shoulder.
"That's… that's a lizard-rat, that's not supposed to be there."
"How much?" said Drax, who'd never quite got the hang of haggling.
"Well, sir, we don't usually sell small mammals, birds or invertebrates…"
"I'm out" said Rocket, walking way. "We don't usually sell small mammals, birds or invertebrates" he said, mockingly. "That's the best bits! Amateurs, Groot, Amateurs: they don't even sell canned wet food, and that's the real gourmet shit!"
"I am Groot?"
"Yeah well, there's no accounting for taste, I guess. I dunno, what do humies eat? I mean Quill seems to survive on just grease, corn chips and salt, and a quick Outer-web search on his primitive homeland of merica seems to indicate that's about normal. Drax, you're bipedal. What do you think we should get?"
"Well if that man is selling 3D printed versions of anything, we could 3D print a tofu heart, and then seed it with the living cells of his enemies and-"
"No! No stop suggesting that, you psycho! Groot?"
"I am Groot."
"I'm not buying mulch! That's not a person food! Ew! How about live bugs, everyone loves bugs, right?"
"Too noisy. Quill is a loud enough eater without chitin getting involved. Lizard?" suggested Drax
"Sold out. Velociraptor?" Rocket asked. Drax shook his head.
"Likewise. What if we cloned you, and then-"
"No! I… fuck it. Let's look for the present-first and then the food, okay? Now. Does anypony see any place selling retrotech? I wanna get him some parts so I can hook up his cassette-player to a sonic cannon."
"I am Groot?"
"Because it would be awesome, that's why! Could you imagine it? We all rock up to a battle and we have these awesome tunes blazing out. It would be so sweet!"
"I am Groot?"
"I mean, yeah, it may or may not kill a few people, but that sounds about normal for Terran gifts. Apparently they have this thing called a slip and slide that basically just designed to main children and big boxes of brightly coloured caltrops called legos. They are a strange, primitive people Groot, but we must not mock their strange, unsophisticated ways."
"What about baseball?" asked Drax.
"No, that's just dumb and we're allowed to laugh at it. Anyway, does anyone see anyplace that might sell retrotech?"
"How about there?" said Drax pointing. Rocket paused.
"The spooky looking shop in a basement that wasn't there yesterday is clearly selling some dark, evil cursed shit?"
"Well, when you put it like that-"
"No, no that's perfect Drax. Quill loves cursed evil shit! That's why he has the t-shirt with the hideous little troll figure on it."
"Ronald Regan?"
"Yeah, I think that's that it's called but honestly I can't keep up with his elaborate fantasy world. Clearly cursed shop it is!" said Rocket, descending the steps. Drax and Groot shrugged and followed.
*establishing shot of dark, smoky room filled with spooky looking things Dark, ominous music plays. Clear sense of foreboding and dread as the trio examine the room. Drax squinting at a series of ominous snow-globes, each with a tiny figure trapped inside, beating on the side trying to escape, Groot looking at a blood-stained glass unicorn, with horror, Rocket walking up to a strange metal puzzle-box that radiates a palpable sense of brooding malevolence and evil...*
Rocket picked up the Lament Configuration and begun to bang it on the store's counter.
"SHOP! Hey what's t take to get some frickin' service here?"
"What's your pleasure?"
"Holy shit, where did you spring from old timer?" asked Rocket, bristling, as a straggle tall figure appeared in one corner of the room, hidden behind a flowing yellow cloak and cowl as he glided across the room to the counter, taking the cube from Rocket as he passed.
"Ah… an excellent choice, Young master. Tell me, are you interested in exploring the farther reaches of… experience?"
"Yeah, no grandad if you're running a dirty massage parlour out the back I'm not interested: I need a feast fit for a king, and a gift fit for a moron, so unless that box summons gravy or plays hard rock, I'm out. What have you got in the way of cool shit? How much for that mask yer wearing?"
"I do not remove it. But by all means looks around, but beware that in this shop everything has a price… but I warn you, the price may not be what it first appears."
"Yeah, yeah I'm aware of the idea of sales tax, you creepy Hastur-looking mother-humper." Muttered Rocket, poking and prodding at stuff on the sleeves. "What have you got in the sixty to eighty credit range? How much for the monkey-paw?"
"I do not think you understood, you do not pay with cash here…"
"Yeah I've heard of credit slips too, I ain't some turnip-reaming hick. Ohh, what's that?"
"Ah you have an excellent eye young master that's the…Hey!" said the figure, turning to Drax. "Please put that down, that's very old and-" there was a crash behind him. The hooded figure turned its eyeless mask to Groot, glaring "Expensive!"
"Hey, Hastur, how much for the crystal skull thing?" yelled Rocket.
"I… okay one that's not my name, and two, That's… please don't touch that! Raccoon finger prints are the very devil to get off, and I should know…Oy, close that!" yelled the figure, reaching over as Drax opened up a suitcase and was lit by the sinister yellow glow from within. "That's reserved for a different large bald man…. No don't put your roots in there, that's disgusting! I… could you please control your friends?"
"If I could I wouldn't need presents." Muttered Rocket, leafing thought the second hand books on the shelf he'd found. "Mysterious play script, book bound in human flesh, two old stone tablets, streetmap of dread Carcosa… do you have any comic books? I think all this is a bit advanced for my friend." Said Rocket, turning his back on a poster asking him if he'd seen the Yellow Sign. "Or, I dunno, a music section, some toys? Or even a food isle: we're still after a main course."
"I had a golden fiddle but… well never mind, operative word there was had. I can offer secret knowledge, the like of which-"
"Buddy, my friend doesn't even bother with non-secret knowledge half of the time. Nah, I'm not sure this is the right shop for me…." He said, walking away, tail swishing, past the rows and rows of dusty things. As he did something in one of the boxes sneezed. Groot heard the noise, and looked in.
"I am Groot?"
"Huh, no, what do you mean?" asked Rocket. Drax wondered over, and also looked into the box. His face lit up.
"Rocket, the creature is most pleasing to look upon! It is small and furred, but unlike you it doesn't spit, bite or swear, most pleasing!" he said, ticking the creature, it begun to sing quietly to itself, much to Groot's amusement. "Rocket, observe, it makes pleasing noises!"
"Huh… oh yeah. Cute little fucker, too. Good size, not too big or small, nice rounded shape, cubby little guy ain't you?" said Rocket, peering into the box, sniffing at it. "Good spot, guys. That'll do nicely We'll take it!" he said, slamming his credit slip on the counter.
"Ah, excellent, but before you, do, I must give you some warnings, for to own a Mogwi there are certain… responsibilities. Responsibilities and risks-"
"Yeah, I know: salmonella. So what, medium-high oven for an hour, and then medium low for a half hour for each kilogram? How do you cook the damn thing and are you gunna, you know…" he made the finger to the throat gesture. "… here, or do we need to do it, because if I have to kill and clean it myself, I want a discount so-"
"I am Groot!"
"What? No we're eating it! We don't need a pet: if we want something to wreck the place, make awkward eye contact when pooping and hump uncontrollably we'll buy another Terran!"
"I think it was clear that we were going to buy it as a gift, not a meal, and also, I think Quill wouldn't stare by choice, it's just that you mounted that security scanner at head height in the bathroom without telling him…"
"Besides the point, we're not getting someone a pet for Life Day, that's a really shitty thing to do to someone! He'll be all over it for about a week while its small and cute, but as soon as it gets big and ugly or starts to bite, sink, hump or ask questions about where it came from or why he made it sentient he'll schedule it for euthanasia and vivisection and it'll have to escape thought a vent and burn the place down!"
"I am Groot!"
"I am not projecting! And even If I am, you don't give people living things as gifts, that's just wrong!"
Said Rocket, hugging the creature to him. "We're doling the decent thing, and either putting it back or eating it."
"I… I am not sure if that the moral thing to do, but assuming we do eat it, we still need a gift for Quill, and we have very little time left…" said Drax, checking his watch.
"I am Groot!" said Groot, tickling it, and pleading. Rocket sighed, and then snorted, annoyed.
"You're right, we can't let it live in a tiny box with a creepy guy in a cloak… even if it's with us it's got to be better than this, and if needs be we can put it in a no-kill sanctuary. Uh, fine. We'll take it." Said Rocket, reluctantly. "But I swear, if this damn thing gives me new and different fleas, or some horrible disease, I'm gonna be so pissed with you."
"An excellent choice young master, so about the creature, there are certain… precautions to take when feeding or bathing the creature, and with regards to sunlight…."
"Yeah yeah yeah, don't starve it, feed it whenever its hungry or cries, bathe it frequently, and give it lots of light and fresh air. I know how to look after pets, buddy, my Terran has survived years and knows nearly 200 commands. So, about me taking this thing…"
"No, No, No sunlight! It hates bright light, No, what you don't understand is before I sell it to you it's vitally important that-"
"Sell?" asked Rocket, "No... I think you're the one having a misunderstanding…" he said picking up the Mogwi with one hand and signalling to the others with his other paw behind his back. "You're selling a living breathing creature and you keep it in a tiny box just a little itty bitty bit bigger than its own body? With no food or enrichment? And you sell it no questions asked, on life day? To us? Bad call. See, that's in my book, that's animal cruelly, something I have opinions on, Hastur."
"For that's third and final time that's not my na-"
"Get him!" yelled Rocket, vaulting the shop counter and belting him round the head with the puzzle-box. Drax and Groot piled in as the punching started. It didn't take long, the figure de-materializing into a stream of yellow dust with a screech of "You'll be sorrrrrryyyyyyyyyyyy!"
"Huh." Said Rocket standing, Mogwi in the crook of his arm and fist raised, on the crumpled silken robe. "Weird, the guy just melted. Into dust. When I hit him with the box? What the hell?"
"I am Groot?"
"I… no I don't think he's allergic to boxes, that's not a thing Groot."
"Maybe he's a vampire." Asked Drax. Rocket glared.
"Okay, one, I'm like 70% sure vampires don't exist."
"I am Groot?"
"It's a big universe, Groot, I'm not 100% sure about anything. But more importantly, two, Since when the fuck are vampires killed by boxes? They live in boxes!"
"People live in hoses, but if you hit someone in the head with one they'd probably die." Replied Drax, calmly picking up the Mogwi's travel crate.
"I… okay fine, I'll give you that." said Rocket. "Until we hear otherwise we say he's a vampire. Quick, let's get out of here and get Quill his gift." Said Rocket, putting the Mogwi in the Box and pausing.
"Wait, something here doesn't feel right. Something here is… off. This feels wrong somehow…"
*ominous music plays*
"Like… like…" said Rocket.
"Like we need to rob the place!" said Rocket, as the ominous music abruptly stopped with a record scratch. "Quick, does he have any food, we still need to get stuff for the meal!" Quick Groot, Drax, see if he has any food!"
"I am Groot?"
"Not not the dust, Groot I don't care how high in phosphorous it is!"
"Frogurt! He has a frogert machine behind this curtain!" yelled Drax.
"Quick, take it all before it melts, and we'll pick up some 3D printed protein on the way home for mains!" yelled Rocket, picking up the box, which was still gently singing to itself.
"Food and a gift, and all for a complete steal! Yep, I can tell you guys this is going to be our best, least eventful Christmas ever!" said Rocket, jiggling the box up and down to make the creature in it coo happily. "What could go wrong?"
Christmas music plays in the background: "You better watch out..."
