The Christmas party went really rather well.
No one impounded their ship, no one tried to trick Quill into suicide with a dream machine, or attacked them in a nativity. No tower block heist, no home invasion: they just ate a lot of snacks, hung out with their big weird adopted family, and had a good time. Drink and good cheer flowed, the predictable Christmas argument was yet to kick off, and there was a roast in the oven and presents from the secret Santa around the fake cardboard fireplace, one of them moving fitfully, as the team relaxed and partied way, way in to the night. Not that the Guardians cared, having long since adopted their own specialised "on ship" sleep and meals schedule that didn't quite sync with local time.
Ship time, 1930 Local Time: 2330. Half an hour to midnight. Number of Mogwi's: one
Music playing, Elvis: Santa bring my baby back to me
"I must regrettably report that the roast is delayed: we have under-estimated its size and under estimated the efficiently of our oven. The main meal will not be served for at least another half hour. My apologies."
"Nah Drax, its fine." Said Quill, swinging a wine-glass casually. "I'm cool eating whenever. So long as we've got company, drink and music, I'm good. Thank you for all you help with the cooking, Drax, but sit you're tattooed ass down and have a drink! You work too hard!"
"The tattoos and scarification do not in fact extend to my buttocks, but thank you." Said Drax, sitting down."
"Yet." Said Rocket, swaying slightly and pouring drinks for all of them "You pass out again I'm gonna have a go at it."
"You tattoo anyone I'm going to shave you. Full bikini wax. All twelve nipples on show and beach-body ready!" joked Quill, nodding to Rocket as he poured.
"I ain't got twelve nipples, and stop thinking about them, freak. You shave me and they'll find your body on a beach. Plus I'll give you a body piercing and use the ships electromagnet to play the Carrol of the bells with your ding-dong,"
"Can we please do something festive before you two all get even more disgusting?" said Gamora. "I want to still have an appetite when the roast is ready." Groot nodded, and Quill and Rocket agreed
"How about a nice game of charades?" asked Drax.
"After last time?" said Quill "Are you mad?"
"If we ban people pointing guns at each other when they loose a point..."
"But that's the only bits me and Quill are good at!" protested Rocket. "A board game? "
"And start a fist fight, no, fuck that." said Quill. "You and Gamora always get way, way too competitive."
"I am Groot?"
"That's an idea…. Secret Santa?" asked Rocket. "I know we were going to do it after super, but if that's delayed…"
"Sure, good plan." said Quill. "That's sounds like a safer option." He said.
Ship time, 1948 Local Time: 2348. Twelve minuets to midnight. Number of Mogwi's: one
It took some time to do the secret Santa. As music played in the background: Iron Maiden; Twelve minuets to midnight.
"I am Groot! I am Groot! I am Groot! I am Groot!"
"No Groot, you can't keep the wrapping paper, that wasn't the actual gift! Look, see Drax got you these adorable little socks…"
"I am Groot!"
"Oh, I don't care if you technically don't have feet, just be grateful and stop wearing the paper! Everyone else is happy with their presents" asked Rocket. "Right guys?"
Cut to Drax and Gamora, Drax holding a huge axe and a novelty lunch box, ecstatic, Gamora, with an "I'm with Thanos… who we plan to murder" sweater and a jar of protein power, looking rather less happy.
"Uh-huh. Sure. So, Quill next?" asked Gamora.
"Hell yeah, saving the best for last." Said Rocket, reaching for the large box. "Quill open this gift from… from a completely mysterious person, who I know not, as that's' the frickin' point of the secret Santa, but I'm sure is a better friend to you that any of the others and has got you a way, way better present!"
"Oh, wow, I wonder who this could be from?" asked Quill sarcastically, picking up a large package covered in irregular and badly colour-coordinated paper with chunks of racoon-hair trapped in the sticky-tape holding it shut.
"Drax, was this you?"
"No." said Drax, trying to see if he could fit the axe in his new lunch box. He could not.
"Groot? Gamora?" asked Quill "No oh I wonder who this could be then…." He said jokingly ripping into the paper. "I… I.. what the?" said Quill, staring into the box.
*Camera angle from inside the box, framed with the corners of the box forming the frame of the picture, showing Quill staring down with an expression of mixed shock, surprise, and delighted confusion*
"Err… thank you Rocke- whoever got me this. Ummmm… wow he's a cute little guy…. So… who got me a space puppy?"
"A what?!" said Gamora, glaring at Rocket, before also looking into the box. There is an aorable cooing sound, although not from Gamora.
"A cute but weird space-puppy… thing. Um, it appears to be bipedal… and singing. Oh hell, Rocket, please tell me you didn't knock up Alf or something…"
"What? Ew, why the fuck would you say that Quill?" said Rocket, his head also appearing in show and looking down at the gift. "And what's with assuming it's from me, this is supposed to be a secret Santa! You can't prove it was me who stole that for you – hey!"
Gamora grabbed Rocket by an ear. "One moment." She said, grinning hollowly to Quill, before hustling Rocket over to the corner of the room, the camera following them.
"What. Were. You. Thinking!" hissed Gamora, as Quill, Groot and Drax fawned over the creature in the background, leaning in, Drinks in hand.
"Hey, I was thinking that I didn't want an onion shoved anywhere unnatural! I just wanted to get him some booze or something and then suddenly there was this creepy old shop with cool stuff and this vampire due in a yellow hoodie was keeping that thing in a damn box so we… rescued it. I mean, after we killed the vampire dude who tried to warn us it was cursed, or something…"
"I... what?"
"It's okay, Gammy, I'm pretty sure that vampires don't exist so-"
"No, I'm more concerned you murdered a guy and stole a weird alien creature for Quill's present! What were you thinking!? I thought you didn't even believe in giving living beings as gifts? Do you have any idea how irresponsible that is?"
"See, that's what I said! But then Groot and Drax peer-pressured me, and the guy was super creepy and giving off this weird vibe, like in that book of Quill's by that King who writes books, and we just needed to get ourselves and the creature out of there! And I don't thing I actually killed the guy… I mean I melted him into dust, but he was still taking after that. Is that weird? 'Cause that feel weird."
"Yeah, that sounds weird. Okay, so that's explained the why and the how of you getting it. But what is it?"
"I dunno. Seems to be getting on well with Quill. Maybe it's a Baby Terran. Does anyone here actually know what those looks like?" asked Rocket, scratching the back of his neck. Gamora shook her head.
"Angry potato, apparently. No I don't think at any stage in their life span they have fur."
"Ugg, disgusting. Yeah, not sure what it is. Smells omnivorous. Guy selling it said it was called a Mogwi, oh, and keep it away from bright lights, sunlight could kill it, and something about feeding it and getting it wet was important, but we decked the guy before he could finish the ominous warning."
Rocket noticed the death glare he was getting. "Oh, what, like you've never ignored a spooky ominous warning before? The guy was weird, I wasn't going to stand there letting him weird me up. Something about water or getting it wet. Maybe we need to keep it wet at all times or it'll shed, or something?"
"Errr, I spit my beer on it and now there lots of them!" yelled Quill, from behind Gamora. "Is… is is supposed to do that?"
Gamora turned to Rocket and glared. The racoon stroked the fur on his chin, contemplatively "Or maybe it was don't get it wet. Yeah, in hindsight it was probably that."
Gamora face-palmed. "In the morning, we give that damn thing to the Nova Corps and find out what it is, then you get Quill a real present. Agreed?"
"Yeah, if it sprouts of new ones like that without warming, agreed." Said Rocket. " I wanted one, not a franchise. First thing in the morning, it goes."
Gamora and Rocket shook on it. "Let's just try and get thought the Christmas meal, and hope it doesn't kill us in our sleep." She said, as they waked back to Quill and Drax. Drax, overhearing, agreed eagerly.
"Yes, the roast should be ready now. Let us feast!"
Ship time, 1959 Local Time: 2359. One minuet to midnight. Number of Mogwi's, seven.
Given the elephant in the room, or rather the box of chirping, fighting, boisterous fuzz-balls clamouring for attention and begging for food, Christmas dinner was a rather tense affair as they all sat down to eat, Gamora glaring over at Rocket, Rocket glaring back, Groot trying to peace-keep, Quill unable to take his eyes of the box of adorable but rambunctious critters, Drax with his back to them all as he prepared to serve the roast.
"-and then he just sort of melted into dust." Said Rocket, explaining to Quill, who sat bouncing the box of Mogwi's on his lap like the box was a toddler.
"I am Groot."
"-because he was a vampire." Rocket translated. "No, wait I'm not sure he was-"
"If he was not a vampire, then why was he allergic to boxes?" asked Drax, oven mitts on hands and wearing a 'fear the cook' apron, as he leaned in and pulled out from the oven the finest turkey-shaped 3D printed protein a limited budget could buy.
"What, no that's not a thing I-" Quill pinched the bridge of his nose. "Okay so, in summary, I've got a box of unknown, rapidly-reproducing creatures sitting two inches from my junk, and we don't know what they are or where they came from, and all we know is you got them at a creepy needful-fucking-things shop of horrors run by a sketchy as fuck, possibly vampiric, frogurt aficionado, who you then beat and robbed, on Christmas eve, Rocket, and the only thing we know about them is we mustn't get them wet or exposed to sunlight?!"
"Vampires." Said Drax, laying the roast flat on the table and aiming his new axe at it with one hand.
"Stop saying that! They're not vampires! You don't need to keep vampires dry!" protested Rocket.
"Holy water." Said Gamora, passing the roast tubers.
"I… yeah okay I'll give you that." admitted Rocket, taking them. "But not all water is holy."
"If homeopathy is right, water remembers." Said Drax.
"If Homeopathy is right, and water remembers, we're all drinking piss." Said Gamora. "It's not, and I doubt its going to be useful or not in the whole vampire or not vampire debate were having."
"So, I have a box of tiny, very cute vampires in my lap? Geez, Rocket. Thanks. Just what I always wanted, you asshat. Pass the gravy? Thanks Groot."
"Test that theory. Use science." Said Drax, slicing off sculpted protein with his axe and serving up.
"How? The Dracula S.A.T.s? Get them to pee on a home vampire test and see if the strip goes blue?" said Quill, taking the bowl of tubers as the Mogwi's on his lap reached up, clamouring and begging for food.
"Mirror?" said Gamora. Quill went to get up and fetch one from the bathroom, but them paused, and grabbed something closer to hand.
"Garlic bread?" he asked.
"Hey!" protested Rocket. "Don't give all our goo food to them! We don't even know what they eat, and there was something really important about that I forgot to ask, so let's be a little cautious: that's real bread with real butter, they could be lactose or gluten intolerant for all we know!"
"Plus if we just gave them garlic bread they'll get fat." Said Gamora, serving vegetables.
"How?" asked Quill, around a mouth full of garlic bread. The mogwi on his lap fought for the crumbs.
Gamora stared across the table at him "bread makes you fat." She said, as is stating the obvious.
"Bread makes you fat!?" said Quill, shocked, dropping the slice of bread into the box. "In that case, I'm sticking to fries!"
Rocket looked over, evil smile hovering around his eyes. "Do you want to tell him, or can I?" he asked, passing the sliced roast as Drax served it up.
"Hey." Said Quill, taking it and unthinkingly holding the first slice out for the Mogwi's to shut them up as they begged and clamoured for food. "I'll have you know that not only am I fit as a… a very fit thing, but I am a brave an heroic space adventure and not easily taken by surprise of fooled or… or."
"I am Groot!" said Groot, shocked
"Huh?" asked Quill.
"Groot says that you have a box full of vampire-cocoons on your lap… wait, what?!" said Rocket.
*return to the 'from the box' camera angle, as all the Guardians crane over to look.*
There is a long and ominous pause.
"Do you think this might be the thing we're not meant to do when feeding them" asked Drax, seriously. The rest turn and stare at him, frowning.
Ship time, 2356 Local Time: 0459. The night before Christmas. Number of Gremlins: seven.
"How's the Box?" asked Gamora, nursing a vodka-quinine and watching indifferently as Rocket and Drax screamed and shouted at each other in a drunken rage, Rocket standing on top of what have might once been a monopoly board on the table, as Groot tried to keep then separated and away from the weapons they'd got for Christmas.
Quill grunted, put down his egg-nog, careful not to spill it as the booze in it could strip paint, and got up to check, peering into the box.
"Still sleeping, or whatever it is they're doing in those cocoons."
"Quit calling me that, I don't know what that means!" yelled Rocket, head turning.
"I said…. Oh never mind. the chrysalis-esses are fine. "He said sitting back down and fishing a thrown, home-made monopoly piece out of his drink. "Weird, gross, pulsating chrysalis things. Talk about a stocking filler." He said, peering in. "What do you think happens when they hatch?"
"And do we want to find out?" she asked back. "We should lock them in the upper-airlock before we go to sleep, I'm not resting in a ship with those things waiting to hatch."
"Agreed, I don't want to wake up to find these guys have drained me off all blood. Well no time like the present…." Said Quill picking it up the box. "Time to put you all in the airlock, I'll see you all in the morning, and they you're going on a nice trip to the Nova Corp quarantine centre to be studied and… and… Huh. Gamora how many of these little suckers did we have?"
"Seven… why?"
"Sure it wasn't six?"
"Seven, Quill! please tell me there are still seven!"
Quill pause, an pulled out what was very clearly the spent husk of a chrysalis.
The two of them looked to each-other, Quill reaching a hand towards his blaster, oh, oh so slowly to not upset he box, and Gamora touching the sword propped by her chair, they both eyed up the room: the ship was half-dark, like mostly by the Christmas lights Groot was wearing, and so covered in decorations, disgraced wrapping paper an general mess, that there were literally hundreds of hiding places.
Groot kept trying to break up the fight between Rocket and Drax, sending long shadows dancing.
Crack! There was a nose form the box, like a hatching. Quill froze, and looked up to Gamora with horror.
Crack! Crack-Crack-Crack-Crack!
"Um, Guys" asked Quill hissed at Drax and Rocket "Guys, little help"
"You have to own all the houses in the street to put up a hotel, vermin!"
"That's doesn't make any Frickin' sense, fuck the man, the system is rigged against a small business own like me!" said Rocket, slapping his chest with both hands. Groot, desperate to disuse the situation, took away their weapons and put them all in the corner of the room, not helped by the fact that each time he did they produced more weapons, so the heap had everything from knives and guns to a battle axe and an actual chainsaw.
"You're not a small businessman, you're just small!" shouted Drax.
"Guys, time and a place, I really need a hand!" said Quill, reaching desperately for this blaster with one hand and trying not to drop the box of rapidly hatching cocoons.
"Small? Small!? Okay tough guy, look me in the eyes and say that!" said Rocket, pointing to his eyes with two clawed fingers, sending small clawed shadows dancing.
"I can't, I can't bend own that low without back-pain!" shouted Drax, as a shadow moved behind him.
"Guys!" yelled Quill, scrabbling for his gun.
"What!?" yelled Rocket and Drax, turning to Quill, angry.
Quill made a face and nodded down, gesturing with his eyes.
*Both Drax and Rocket look down. Camera pans out to reveal a tiny clawed gremlin standing on the table top right next to Rocket's foot. The gremlin looks back up at Rocket and Drax, grins evilly, and raises a chainsaw he's grabbed off the weapons-heap.*
"Oh! Oh shit! Ahhhh what the fuck!?" yelled Rocket, scrambling up Drax's back and onto his shoulders, argument forgotten.
"Ahhh! Ahhh! The vampire puppy has a chainsaw!" yelled Drax, running. Straight into Quill, knocking him right off his feet and sending his box flying, scattering hatching cocoons all over the ship.
*close up of several half-filled drinks getting knocked over, sending puddles of liquid all over the place as the Cocoons roll around.*
"Oh gawds, Groot, get them! …Groot?"
Rocket looked over, and saw Groot covered by dozens of angry gremlins gnawing at him. Other gremlins rushed forwards and start to grab weapons from the heap like a tide of screaming hellions, as the first gremlin dived at the prone form of Quill with the blade whirring. Gamora leapt up and parried the blade, sparks flying, before the chain jammed, and the motor still being working, one the blade stopped moving the handle of the saw lept sending the gremlin flying into the ceiling with a bang! Gamora side-stepped as the chainsaw dropped to the deck and began to chew its way across the floor buzzing angrily, but swung the sword in a neat arch, taking the head off the critter as it fell.
"Back! Retreat to the cockpit!" she yelled, slicing through another as it came at her with a knife. The Guardians scrabbled to get away. Quill hauled himself up on the side of the table, to see two gremlins sitting inside the remains of the 3D printed turkey and wearing the paper chats form the Christmas crackers. As he looked at them, they spotted him and leapt, trying to stab him with the carving fork and slice at him with a electric turkey carver. He shot one with his blaster, and Rocket leapt and swung from a strand of tinsel like Tarzan and booted the other one of and into the kitchenette oven. Drax slammed the door and then roared at one, brandishing two baguettes of garlic bread and holding them out in a cross, like he'd seen in Quill's Terran movies.
"Back, foul beast, the power of Chris compels you!"
"Christ!" yelled Quill, correcting, as he shot at two playing with his tape deck. "Then power of… Hey! Get of my mix tapes you little shits! No, not my earth wind and fire!"
""Back, foul beast, the power of hey get of my mix tapes you little shits no, not my earth wind and fire compels you! It's not working! The vampires are too strong!" yelled Drax, beating one round the head with a baguette and then grabbing nit and stuffing it into the waffle iron and squashing it flat. There was a zing as one of the gremlins got a hold of one of Rockets many grins and started shooting back at Quill. Rocket and Quill started fighting back, plinking away with blasters and throwing baubles.
"Groot, stop drop and roll buddy!" yelled Rocket, nailing a gremlin in the face with a thrown wine-bottle, The explosion of liquid creating three more. The racoon swore. "Little fucks are between me and my good guns, all I have is this piece of shit plinker!" he complained, trying to shoot the gremlins that came of Groot to avoid being squashed as Groot rolled.
"That's my second best blaster, quit bitching!" yelled Quill.
"Yeah, well its number two all-right. Fuck me, there hundreds of the little shits!" he yelled, "What's the plan?"
"Get the ship into orbit and open a hatch?" suggested Quill. "If we kill them one at a time it'll take all day! Gamora, get the engines fired up, we'll hold them off."
"On it." Yelled Gamora, taking two with a neat sword sweep. "Quill, use the basters to kill any that get their hands on weapons, Rocket, get your secret Santa gift and use the bright light to break up any large groups, Groot, use you vines to keep the stairs to the cockpit clear, Drax-"
She turned her head slightly: Drax had got her juicer and was forcing a full handful, no less than six gremlins into it, and aiming the spray of high-velocity gore coming out of the spout and using it like a fire-hose to knock over others as they tried to approach him, all while laughing, uproariously.
"Just… just keep doing that I guess." She said, rushing for the stairs, sword swinging in a high guard position as they leapt at her.
"Okay, so other than Peter Jackson's Dead alive do we have a plan on how to hold out that long?" asked Quill, as he heard the ship engines fire up.
Rocket shrugged, and flash-banged another group, sending then screaming and running for cover.
"They don't like light. Fly the ship into sunlight?" he suggested.
"Gamora, you hear that?" asked Quill, stabbing a gremlin in the face with a fork as it got too close.
"Yep, thirty seconds until we break atmo. Hold onto something, I'm going to vent hard and suck these guys out into space and sunlight."
"But, but that'll suck out all our presents!" complained Drax, furiously truing the handle of a pasta-roller and slowly and horribly truing a gremlin into linguini.
"Christmas isn't about the presents Drax!" said Quill. "It's about the watch out for the chainsaw, holy shit, why do we even own that thing?! It's about spending time with your family! And specifically not spending that time getting eaten alive by evil little grinning monsters!"
"Amen to that Brother!" said Rocket, tying himself to a bulkhead with tinsel, and holding out a hand to Quill. Quill took his and, and held out another to Groot. Groot wrapped a tendril around a bulkhead, an then reached out a hand to Drax, who reluctantly stopped shredding gremlins and took the proffered vine with one hand, beating gremlins with a meat-tenderizer to make himself feel better with the other.
"Five seconds!" yelled Gamora. "Four, three…"
"Rocket, man, if we don't make it, I just want to say…" said Quill" I just want to say to you…"
"Yeah?" asked Rocket, holding his hand for dear life, tears in eyes.
"I just want to say, that that was a shit Christmas present, and I blame you for everything."
"Well, fuck you and merry Life Day to you, too!" said Rocket, after a moments pause.
"One." Said Gamora, hitting the airlock-master-vent button.
*montage shot of gremlins getting all sucked thought the ship and out thought the vent into sunlight, and melting horribly. Severally get stuck around the edges of the hatch and sucked thought a tiny hole and minced, not helped by the chainsaw flying into their midst. The Guardians are buffeted by the wind, Quill losing his Santa hat, Drax his meat-tenderizer, Groot some tinsel and Rocket having his fur buffeted in a weird way, but after a moment Gamora closes the airlock, and levels the ship out, coming into land. The crew breathe a sigh of relief.*
"Is… is that all of them?" asked Drax.
"Nah, there's one in the oven." Said Rocket, sniffing the air." Doesn't smell half bad, either. See, I told you we should have just eaten the first one!"
"I am Groot."
"Yeah, agreed." Said Rocket, opening the oven and helping himself to a Gremlin drumstick
"Wow, this is good! You guys gotta try this!"
"What did Groot say?" asked Quill.
"Oh, he said this is the bit of the movie were we thing we've killed them all and relax, but there's still one left." Said Rocket, mouth full. He passed Drax the drumstick, who took a bite, an then look pleasantly surprised.
"Agreed." Said Quill drawing his blasters. "So let's be extra, extra careful- no Drax I don't want a damn drumstick... whoa, that does smell good. Okay-" sad Quill, chewing, drumstick in one hand, and gun in the other. "Okay, where are you, you evil little delicious-"
Gamora came down the steps, did a double take at the drumstick, and nodded. Quill followed her eyes and looked over.
There was a single, very guilty looking gremlin in the middle of the corridor, trying to sneak to the bathroom and more water and frozen in place now they'd spotted it.
"Get it!" yelled Quill, shooting.
"No, don't kill it, it's too delicious! yelled Rocket. "Grab it!"
"Just stop the damn thing getting in the head!" yelled Gamora, diving at it. "if it hits water it's going to-"
It leapt at the head, but Quill slammed the toilet seat on its head before it could get to the water, and it flopped back, stunned, and Gamora kicked it to Rocket, who punched it, sending it flying into Groot who booted it across the room. Finally Drax smacked it around the head with the remnants of the 3D printed roast, and then grabbed it and stuffed it into a stocking.
"Nice one team. Right, so, how to safely dispose of the darn thing…"
"Fire?" suggested Drax, eagerly.
"Or maybe the blender." Said Quill, as the socking struggled in his hands.
"I am Groot?"
"Just toss the darn thing into sunlight." Said Gamora.
"No…wait!" said Rocket. "guys, guys, it's Life Day… and or Christmas, and we need to show a little festive spirt. Take care of those less fortunate than ourselves…"
"What are you suggesting we let it go?" asked Gamora, incredulous.
Rocket grinned, evilly. "No, I have a better idea…"
*Hard cut to The Guardians working in a kitchen to feed the homeless, all dressed in Santa costumes, Rocket leans over the serving counter, the gremlin in a cage behind him, next to a deep fat fryer, a tub of batter, and the sort of wooden sticks used for corn dogs.*
"Monster on a stick! Monster on a stick, get your free monster on a stick 'er!" he yelled, ringing a hand-bell. " fresh and hot, self-replicating, and therefore environmentally friendly, lean and delicious! Monster on a stick! Hot and… hello boss, how many can I put you down for?" said Rocket, grabbing a jug of water and holding it over the cage as a customer approached.
Quill and Gamora looked over. "Oh, this is wrong on so many levels." Said Quill.
"Yes, but he is showing some charity for the first time ever, so let's not discourage it." Said Gamora, as the snow fell. "After all, it is Christmas."
And on that wholesome note, the story ends. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night. Happy Holidays and I hope you stay safe thought these difficult times. BunnyRock.
