"Oh great, here again. Let me guess: you want to remind me again about those body parts or whatever?"
"Now you're just making a mockery of it, Foxy. It's far more important than you could realize."
Foxy was talking to the shadowy figure again. He had once again woken up inside the darkened room with the figure in the cloak leaning over the table, and he already knew what it was going to tell him before it even spoke.
"Important how? That's the part you always neglect to tell me." Foxy replied, unimpressed. "No, wait, let me guess- you're going to say 'oh, you don't need to know that' and refuse to tell me anything else, just like last time, huh?"
"I'm that predictable, aren't I?" The figure said, with a hint of amusement in its voice. "Clever fox. Too bad cleverness only gets you so far."
"Well? Answer my question."
"Yes, I can't tell you much, Foxy. You can't and won't understand, and it's not your place to know all the facts at this point in time. I am simply here to remind you of your true purpose."
"Then why are you even telling me to do all these things if you won't explain why it's important to do so? You expect me to cooperate just because you asked me to cooperate?"
"Indeed I do. You may think it a frivolous and unnecessary task- but it is far from that. In fact, should the pieces fall in place the way they were intended to, the future may turn out to be quite an intriguing sight..."
Foxy sighed. "More vague answers, I see. Fine, then, I'll keep an eye out, if that'll bring you satisfaction. But don't expect me to find these 'parts' very quickly, because I have no idea where to look or what they'll even be like."
"Let time pass. Answers will crop up sooner or later, as they were destined to. It matters not how long it must take."
"Don't have a problem waiting. If time doesn't matter, then I never have to focus on it very much, or at all."
"That's the way you see it? Then perhaps fate will find a way to force your hand. Remember this, Foxy..."
The figure in the cloak turned slightly, and the room was growing dark again.
"...the world will find a way to make you act. You may run...you may hide...but at some point...it will come to you."
"Foxy! Wake up."
Foxy grunted as he snapped out of the strange dream he was having and returned to the real world once again. As soon as he heard a voice, he knew another one of his friends was here to bother him about something again, as always. Oh, well. Better to get it over with now so he wouldn't have to deal with it later.
He opened his eyes to see Ballora standing there, having already thrown the curtains ajar to let light into the inside of Foxy's cove.
"Good morning to you too, Ballora." Foxy sighed. "What do you need?"
"Foxy! Foxy! FOXY!" Ballora kept saying.
Foxy winced. "Yes, yes, okay, I hear you! What do you need?!"
"...you...you..." Ballora looked a little outraged, and Foxy was on guard.
"Oh boy, what did I do this time?" Foxy asked, raising an eyebrow.
"...I can't believe you, Foxy! And here I thought we were friends! Here I thought that nothing like this would happen!"
"Like what? Be specific! I don't understand what you're trying to say!"
"Come on, you know what! I thought we were supposed to be friends, and you go ahead and do this?"
"No explanation? Then let me take a wild guess." Foxy held up his stuffed bear. "What, did you want a turn with Mr. Wigglesworth? Is that it? Was he supposed to visit you or something? He doesn't tell me these things."
Ballora made a face. "What? No, that's not happening until after Christmas, Foxy. Didn't we agree on this before?"
"Right, right..." Foxy grunted, remembering that conversation now that Ballora had mentioned it. "Sorry, forgot about that particular conversation. I've talked to everyone here so much that sometimes, the talks we have together go in one ear and out the other."
"Don't you have a calendar or something? If I were you, I'd put it down so you can remember it."
"I don't have one, if you couldn't tell. I don't have anything, actually...not even a decked-out room. This room doesn't have any decoration besides the posters, and this cove doesn't have any use besides being my sleeping space."
Ballora shook her head. "Oh, Foxy, couldn't you get one? Or ask Puppet to get you one? Without it, you'll always be late to everything...including my tea parties."
"How is that my fault, Ballora?! I have no way of getting any of that stuff, and Puppet isn't always in the mood to give me any of it! He's stingy enough about my room and possessions as is."
"Nevermind, nevermind, forget about that for now. The current situation is much more important than anything, including all thirty times before that I've said 'this is much more important!'"
The next time is always more important than the last time... Foxy thought, knowing how inconsistent Ballora was when it came to importance. He sighed again and said: "Okay, just come out and tell me. What's so important that you have to question our friendship?"
"You didn't tell me...me, who's clearly one of the most important people residing in this building...that Freddy finally came out of his room, and that he's here! Why didn't you let me know? He's my friend, too!"
"I tried to tell you! I knocked on your door for five minutes straight yesterday!" Foxy countered. "But you didn't bother to answer! You were so busy dancing that you couldn't even come and open the door. What was I supposed to do about that? Yell out and hope you'd get so annoyed that you'd come out? So don't blame me just because you get too busy to come out and learn about the recent happenings!"
"I admit, I may sometimes be unresponsive during crucial moments...but still, I'm not happy! I need to know when stuff like this happens, Foxy!"
"And I apologize, okay? But even if you were available sometime yesterday, I couldn't have been able to get to you. Puppet came down with a virus yesterday after Bon-Bon put one in Puppet's systems after he fell asleep in the bathtub, and he's been groaning constantly. I kid you not: I woke up from my nap yesterday, but when I was trying to talk to Dinah about the whole pizza deal, Puppet was there in the main room at the same time. I had to listen to him groan and moan for hours because Freddy was telling him some long-winded story and wearing him out while he still had the virus! And even when I closed the door, I couldn't block out the noise. God, was it grating. He's...how did Freddy put it...got some weird voice adjustments because of the virus? Not sure how to describe it, but it makes his voice kind of...echo."
"Wait, so, let me guess...did Puppet finally hit puberty?" Ballora asked in a gossipy tone.
Foxy cringed a little. "Ballora, we're animatronics. We don't hit puberty. Besides, Puppet's been around for a long time. He's long past the age of puberty now...if he aged the same way humans did, that is, which he doesn't. However...his voice almost makes it sound like he's hitting some nonexistent form of animatronic puberty. Almost."
"Hmm. Then...wait, what about you? Didn't your voice go through changes once? What if you had that virus and you passed it on to Puppet by mistake? Hmm?"
Foxy shrugged. "It seems like it's a different virus, and besides, it was caused by Bon-Bon, not me. However, if he somehow does have that virus...then he might start trying to shove advertisements in your face that promise fake items for ridiculous prices. We'll have to shut him down if he starts doing that."
Ballora started anxious. "Oh, this is all wrong! I'll need to wear a mask and wash my hands and-"
"No, no, Ballora, there's no need. Computer viruses don't spread the same way human viruses do. We'll be fine unless we connect our systems to Puppet- only then would the virus be able to enter our hardware, too. Anyway, Freddy...come to think of it, how'd you find out that Freddy was back, Ballora? If Puppet and I didn't tell you, then how did you know?"
"It wasn't that hard, Foxy. I was just walking into the kitchen to talk to Dinah earlier, and Freddy was right there! Here, follow me. I'll show you right now."
"Lead the way, then."
A minute later...
"Listen, Dinah, is it really that hard? All I want is for you to make a pizza with chicken as a topping! Can't you do that for me?"
"Because I cannot give you any pizza! I have none to give!"
Foxy and Ballora walked into the kitchen to find Freddy in conversation with Dinah. Dinah looked very irritated, seeming on the verge of yelling as he argued with Freddy.
"Come on, please? It can't be that hard!" Freddy begged.
"I already told you, no!" Dinah refused again. His eyes flit over to Foxy. "Foxy! Hey! I require your assistance!" The chef pointed at Freddy. "Who is this man in the bear costume? He has been pressuring me to give him pizza with chicken on it, even though I have no such pizza to hand out!"
"Huh?" Freddy stuttered, and he looked over and saw the others, too. He grinned. "Oh, it's you guys! Hello! Hey, can you tell this chef guy what's going on? He's been stubborn and I don't even know why."
"Dinah, this is Funtime Freddy. He's our friend. He's been away for a while, so that's why you haven't seen him before." Foxy stepped in, explaining who Freddy was. "His favorite food is chicken, so that's why he's asking you for it as a pizza topping. And guess what? He's also the reason why we don't have any tomatoes." Foxy gave Freddy a dirty look. "Well, Freddy? Want to explain to Dinah why we're completely out of tomatoes, and therefore, unable to make any pizza at all?"
Freddy looked uncomfortable. "Um...it was for a perfectly reasonable reason, Foxy, I swear."
"Uh-huh. And how about you tell me why?"
"I unplugged the refrigerator to find my favorite feather, and all the tomatoes got bad, okay? It wasn't directly my fault this time!"
"You unplugged the fridge and ruined my ingredients over a feather?" Dinah exclaimed. "Mama mia, how could you do that?"
"And by the way, Freddy...you said before that feather was from your first chicken ever, correct?" Foxy brought up.
"Yeah, it was!" Freddy claimed.
"Except that it couldn't be. Remember when we watched those tapes you had? We saw Puppet give you your first ever piece of chicken then, and it was already fried, so it didn't have any feathers on it. If that feather isn't from the first chicken that you had, then why is it so important to you?"
Freddy looked even more uncomfortable. "It's...I...I don't know, okay?! You're stressing me out with all these questions!"
"I see now. You tried to claim that the feather was from something really important as an excuse to unplug the fridge, didn't you?"
Freddy was silent. He looked at the floor and nodded reluctantly.
"I should've known. That feather's nothing more than a random knickknack to you, isn't it, Freddy? So you didn't even have a valid reason to unplug the fridge, you just made up a reason so that we wouldn't get too mad at you." Foxy sighed. "I'm disappointed in you, Freddy. I know you make decisions like these sometimes, and I know you make mistakes every now and then...but you and I both know that you're at least smart enough to make the right choice. But you decided to lie to us? And over something this trivial? Come on."
"Sorry..." Freddy mumbled sadly.
Before they could continue, a familiar-sounding groan came from the door to the main room. Foxy could tell what it was, and he was ready to groan himself now that he knew. This was going to be a handful.
Puppet came into the room, being the source of the groaning, as usual. Since his virus had appeared yesterday, Puppet groaned to no apparent end. Foxy remembered hearing Puppet groan many, many times yesterday, and he wasn't too enthusiastic about hearing it again. With any luck, the groaning could become a repeat of yesterday.
Ballora and Freddy, meanwhile, exclaimed loudly.
"The zombie's back!" They both yelled, acting like Puppet was a zombie when he was just under the weather. This was typical for them, so Foxy didn't tell them off for it.
"You guys are here? And here I was, hoping to find Dinah alone...oh well, I guess if you're here, you're here." The marionette grunted, his voice still having the same echo and shifted tone as yesterday, and he shuffled over to the counter. "Dinah, I'm feeling bad. Can you please just give me some soup...?"
"Soup? Oh, I do not have the time, I am much too busy making pizza. I still have to try..." The chef muttered exasperatedly.
Meanwhile, Foxy noticed that Ballora had backed up all the way to the opposite side of the room from where Puppet was, her face carrying a wary and attentive expression as she kept her gaze towards Puppet.
"Ballora, what's with that look you're giving Puppet? Why are you trying so hard to stay far away from him?" Foxy asked, feeling concerned for why Ballora was showing such odd behavior.
"Puppet doesn't sound right today." She said softly, grimacing. "His tone is different, and there's that weird echo...I don't like it."
"Yeah, that's because he's still infected by the virus. I gave him the anti-virus cd so he could repair himself, but it looks like it's taking some time to fully fix the effects he got from the virus. It might take some time before he's back to normal."
"He had a virus? But then...are we going to need a doctor? Will he need healing?"
Foxy shook his head. "Freddy and I already tried to get rid of the virus yesterday, but most of our methods were too wacky to work. The anti-virus cd is the best bet we have as of right now."
"But a doctor would help, right? I still have Doctor O. on my contacts list."
"He's a dentist, Ballora. He wouldn't be able to eliminate the virus."
"But they're the same thing, aren't they? Dentist or doctor, tomato tomato...seems like the same to me."
"I don't know. Doesn't seem right to me." Freddy muttered.
Ballora shrugged. "It does to me. Also, Dinah...I just made a joke about tomatoes, didn't I? Sorry about that."
The chef shook his head. "No harm done, miss. Do not worry yourself about such things."
"Alright, alright, enough already. Please, Dinah, can you just make some soup for me? I feel like it would make me feel better." Puppet appealed.
"Hmm...well, alright, I suppose the pizza is not super important. I will make some. Which kind do you need?"
"Alphabet soup, please. That kind's my favorite."
"Ah, very well, then. I know we have a can of that somewhere in here, so I will get to work." Dinah grinned. "And since I am a master of my craft, I will even spell your name with the letters so that you may admire it before you consume it!"
"He can do that? I can't even spell my own name..." Freddy whined in the background. Foxy raised an eyebrow at this, as he knew that Freddy was capable of doing that from memory, but that didn't matter right now.
"Dinah, I don't think we have any cans of alphabet soup in here." Foxy said.
Dinah furrowed his brow. "Then I will make my OWN! I can certainly do that!"
Foxy sighed. "Are you really going to do that? So you can make alphabet soup, but you can't just make some pizza so that this pizzeria can have actual pizza?"
Dinah looked even more irritated. "I have told you a million times! No tomato sauce, no pizza! I can make the dough, spread the cheese, and add on toppings, but without the tomato sauce, it is not complete! Without completion, there is no pizza!"
"Nevermind, enough about the pizza. Hey, Ballora, since me and Freddy have already gone through our ideas, do you have anything that you think might help Puppet feel better?"
"Something to help Puppet? Hmm, let me see..." Ballora put a hand to her bottom jaw in thought. "Let me access all my stored ideas in my memory banks real quick...hmm...dancing? No, a performance won't help..."
"In the meantime, why not try chicken, Puppet?" Freddy offered.
"No! No more of that chicken! It won't help!" Puppet denied, scowling.
"Aw, come on! Take it!"
"No."
"...ah-HA!" Ballora exclaimed, smirking as she smacked her fist into her open palm. "I've got just the thing for a situation like this! The best cure for viruses ever, known worldwide for its effectiveness and consistency, and unmatched by the rest of the competition?"
"So what is it, then?" Foxy asked interestedly, while Freddy gasped in excitement from nearby.
"Christmas stories!" She declared. "Everyone feels better with a good story, right? When you delve into fictional or nonfictional worlds, it can be easy to forget about your troubles! It's the perfect way to fix viruses!"
"Yay! Let's do it!" Freddy cheered.
"Actually, no, I'm not doing it." Puppet refused sternly. "You had my interest until you used the word 'Christmas'. If you're making this remedy a part of that troublesome holiday that you won't shut up about, then I'm definitely not going to take part in it."
"Come on, it'll be fun! We can sit around in a circle, trading stories of the Christmas season with each other...it'll be great!" Ballora said dramatically.
"Yeah! Story time in the main room!" Freddy declared, running out of the kitchen.
"But I don't want to-" Puppet protested.
"No buts! You're going to take part in this, and you're going to enjoy it!" Ballora firmly stated, grabbing Puppet by the arm and enthusiastically pulling him out of the kitchen. Puppet loudly voiced objections to Ballora's plan as he was led out of the room, looking very discomforted all the while.
Foxy looked back at Dinah, who looked befuddled.
"Well, I'd better go join them so they don't cause any trouble." Foxy said, acting as casual as he could. "See you later, Dinah."
"Goodbye, then. Good luck to you." Dinah replied, bowing respectfully.
Foxy sat down with the others in the main room as they prepared to begin with the stories. Two each sat at one of the tables, both of the tables near each other. Foxy and Puppet plopped down onto the stools at one table, while Ballora and Freddy did the same for another, close by table.
"Glad I'm sitting over here. I don't want to sit near Puppet." Foxy could hear Ballora moan under her breath. "He still has that virus..."
That reminded Foxy: he had a question he needed to ask Puppet that concerned that virus.
"Hey, Puppet. Quick question." Foxy started, looking at the marionette sitting near him. "You don't have the sudden urge to sell us a bunch of different things, do you?"
Puppet paused. "Um...no? I don't feel any such urge. Besides, I don't carry any stuff I want to sell, so what would the point be?"
Foxy internally breathed a sigh of relief. That was good, that meant that Puppet probably has a different kind of virus from the one that Foxy had gained all those weeks ago.
"Hrm." Ballora muttered, them brightened up. "Anyway, story time! Here's how this will work. I've got four separate storybooks on hand, one for each of us. We'll take turns reading a single story from the book. Got it?"
She handed out copies of her storybook to Foxy, Freddy, and Puppet. Foxy observed the cover, which was red and green, the signature colors of Christmas. Written on the cover in neat cursive was the title: Christmas Stories for the Naughty and Nice children.
"Everyone got theirs?" Ballora asked.
"Do I have to do this?" Puppet groaned.
"Yes, you do. No questions asked." Ballora firmly replied, resolute as ever about her Christmas-related holiday traditions. "I know you're infected with a virus, Puppet, but that certainly doesn't mean that you have to be lazy. You can afford to join us as we do this."
"Oof. That wasn't very nice of you to say, Ballora." Freddy commented disapprovingly. "You should apologize."
"Yeah. I don't appreciate those types of remarks." Puppet agreed, frowning.
"Sorry, then." Ballora apologized. "But still, you're going to be here and you're going to join in."
"Can we get started? Who's going to go first?" Foxy questioned.
"Hmm...how about you, Freddy? Start us off."
"Me? Really?" Freddy gasped in excitement.
"Yes, yes, you. Go ahead and tell the first one you see."
Good thing for that. Hopefully they'll make me go later. Foxy thought as he opened the book. I might actually be able to read through this whole book and memorize the stories before my turn comes around. He started to read the stories in the book whilst trying to pay attention to what Freddy was reading out loud at the same time.
"Once upon a time, there was an ugly barnacle-" Freddy started.
"Freddy, no! You already told that story yesterday. It has nothing to do with Christmas." Foxy cut in, not wanting to hear the nonsense quote again.
"It isn't? Then why are you reading it, Freddy? Read content related to Christmas, please!" Ballora ordered.
"Sorry, sorry, just a random story in my head. Let me actually read a story." Freddy said. "Let's see...it was a cold winter's night, deep in a forest somewhere out in the wilderness. There lived a group of four bears, who sat around a tree and relaxed, resting through the winter season. They lived their lives that way, and they were content.
"One day, they were sitting around the tree again when they noticed something extraordinary: a big, red thing, zooming across the night sky. In fact, it went right over their heads. Objects dropped down onto the snow near them. The bears, curious as they were, opened the presents to find their favorite things: honey and meat. They split the meals four ways and enjoyed it together. It was great.
"And so the tradition continued for many, many years. The red thing would zoom across the sky and give them a meal to remember. And while the bears never found out who or what it was that was dropping down such good fortune on them...one thought it could hear a 'ho ho ho' as the red thing passed overhead. And the sound never left the bear's mind...the end."
"Wait...a red thing in the sky? Ooh, I think I know what it was!" Ballora exclaimed breathlessly.
"Don't spoil it, Ballora! Keep it a mystery." Freddy said, although he was grinning.
"Nice story, I guess." Foxy complimented, shrugging.
"Well, personally, I'm bored." Puppet mouthed bitterly.
"You're not bored, you're Puppet." Freddy said. "I mean, unless you had some secret name change, but I don't think you did."
"Don't complain, okay?" Ballora sighed, shaking her head at Puppet. "I know you may not like this, but this is a very slow curing process. It takes time; things take time in general. Don't be impatient."
"Slowest curing process? Yeah, go figure." Puppet muttered sarcastically. "Might as well name it the most painful curing process while you're at it."
Freddy looked disheartened and upset. "What, was my efforts to tell a nice story a waste of time? Fine, then! Be like that!" He threw his book onto the ground. "Sorry for being such a nuisance! Now I don't want to read anymore." He whined.
"Freddy, it's okay, don't-" Ballora tried to say, but Freddy already looked too disconcerted to calm down at that point. Ballora sighed. "That was not what I meant to happen when we started this. I expected smiles, not scowling."
"Well, we have to continue, so I guess I should go next?" Foxy said.
Ballora shrugged. "Be my guest."
Foxy looked down at his book. He had already picked a story to tell, so he went through with it. "It was a cold, cold evening that night. Christmas Eve had arrived, and with it, a ferocious snowstorm. In one home as ordinary as any other, things had gone exceptionally quiet. There wasn't a sound to be heard- if one listened closely enough, they might even be able to hear a pin drop.
"On that very night, a young child left the house in secret while his mother was asleep. He wanted to get a gift for his mother, but he had not been able to come up with one yet. So he ventured out into the snowstorm, hoping to find a place to grab a satisfying present for her before next morning. He was very set on finding one, as his mother had been terribly ill as of late, and he felt that it was his responsibility to make her feel better.
"He went, tromping through the cold, through the snow and the snowstorm, past the trees and down roads, for hours on end. He had no idea where he was going, or which way was the correct way...all that mattered to him was that he find a place that had a wonderful gift that he could surprise his mother with. For a long time, he couldn't find anything in the midst of the wilderness around his home. He was losing hope...until he stumbled across something he did not expect to find: a snowman.
"At first, the child was hardly curious about an ordinary snowman. It was just a snowman, how could it help? But suddenly, the snowman turned, moving...and he looked down at the young boy. The snowman, by some unknown means, was as alive as any human. With a hat atop his head, a scarf around his heck, and coal for eyes and a mouth.
"He leaned down to look at the young child, who was surprised and confused to see such an unusual sight. And the snowman said: 'Hello, there, little boy. Are you lost?' And the boy responded: 'Yes, Mr. Snowman. I'm trying to find a gift for my sick mommy. I want her to feel better.' 'So I've heard.' The snowman replied, nodding its snowy, sphere-shaped head. 'Do not worry. I heard of your trouble and I have come with something that I wish to give to you.'"
"By the way, there's a tea stain on this page, for some reason. And also some crumbs. Anyone want to take responsibility for that?" Foxy asked.
Ballora froze. "Um...yeah, that was me. Sorry."
"What were you doing? Eating cookies?" Freddy wondered.
"For your information, I was eating biscuits with my tea. Reggie recommended it to me, and it does make for a good combination."
"As I was saying..." Foxy continued. "The snowman continued: 'Take this. Bring it to your mother.' And he slid over to a tree, took a gift-wrapped present behind it, and put it in the boy's hands."
"What did he give him?" Freddy questioned curiously, looking like he was on the edge of his seat. His sad, frustrated mood from earlier had disappeared completely.
"I don't know. He hasn't taken it out of the present. Anyway, the boy asked: 'What's inside this present, Mr. Snowman?' The snowman responded: 'That is a secret, for now. All you need to know is that if you bring this into your home and let your mother open it on Christmas day, she will feel better.' 'Who is it from?' The boy asked. 'From me. But also, a friend of mine.' The snowman answered. 'Santa Claus himself.' The boy's eyes widened. 'Really? From Santa?' The snowman chuckled. 'Why, of course. You may find that difficult to believe, but if you simply trust in me, then the truth will be plain to see. Goodbye for now.'
"And suddenly, the snowstorm picked up, obscuring the boy's vision. He crouched down by the present and waited it out, and by the time it was clear enough to where he could see again, the snowman was no longer there. So the boy retraced his steps, trying to find his way back home. As he trudged back through the snow, present in his arms, the snowstorm became unusually rough. It was maddeningly cold. The boy found it hard to continue. He was nearly about to collapse...until he felt something touch onto his body. A hat and scarf had appeared on his body, even though the boy had not worn those things before. They were quite warm, and they gave the boy the strength to continue.
"He kept going, further and further...and finally, he found his home. He entered inside, dropped the present by the tree, and went back to bed. He was back asleep at once. The next morning, he came downstairs and picked his present back up, taking it upstairs to his mother's room. His mother was still sick, laying in her bed as she ate soup and read a book she had with her. When the boy came in with the present, his mother looked at him in a bit of surprise. 'My son, what is the matter? What do you have in your hands?' She asked. '
"'It's for you, momma. I got it for you.' The boy answered. 'But how did you?' His mother asked worriedly. 'You said yesterday that you had no way of finding one for me. You did not go outside, right? The weather has been horrible, lately. You could have caught a cold.' 'It's okay. I just met...a friend. He was nice.' The boy answered, not wanting to tell his mother about the snowman. He placed the present on her lap and let her take off the ribbon and open it up. Then, inside, she was silent as she gazed at a small music box. Opening it up, it had figures of a small family inside, who spun as a wonderful tune played in the room. The boy's mother said nothing as the whole tune played out. By the time it was over, she smiled. 'What a thoughtful gift...thank you so much, my son.'
"The boy smiled. 'I hope you like it.' He said. 'It is beautiful. I shall cherish it forever.' She replied. 'In fact...why don't we go downstairs? I want to show you the presents I got for you.' The boy gasped. 'But mom, you're sick.' 'I feel much better this morning.' His mother assured him. 'I think I am well enough to get out of bed. Please, let's go downstairs and have the Christmas I promised you.' The boy gave his mother a glowing look. 'Okay, mom.'
"And so, they went downstairs to the living room. His mother was like new, as if she had never gotten sick to begin with. They enjoyed a wonderful Christmas together as mother and son. The boy's meeting with the snowman went unmentioned, but one day, the boy took a look at the hat and scarf he had gained and noticed something. They were so familiar...in fact, he recalled seeing them on the snowman he had met on that night. What could it mean?
"The boy chose not to dwell on it too much, but he thanked the snowman in his heart, and his Christmas spirit shined brightly ever since. And from that day forwards, every Christmas that the boy and his mother had was always as cheery as the last. They would remain happy for many years to come. The End."
"Bravo! Bravo!" Freddy and Ballora cheered, clapping hard.
Puppet sighed. "Okay, okay, I'll admit...that was an okay story."
"Wait a minute..." Foxy interrupted. While the story had been good, he noticed a series of words that were in different hand writing on the page right next to the one he was on. "What's this? Secret ending, by...Ballora?"
Ballora looked startled. "Huh?! Wait, don't read that, that's-!"
"Inside the present was Ballora the ballerina, and she danced and danced over and over for the sick mother, and the sick mother felt so good that she was now immune to every disease in existence ever." Foxy read incredulously, examining the hastily-scribbled handwriting. "The end, Merry Christmas, Ballora is awesome and Reggie is too." Foxy gave Ballora a look.
Ballora grinned sheepishly. "Well, uh...I must've given you the wrong book. Yeah."
"I thought it was good!" Freddy laughed.
Foxy just sighed. "You know, as much as I want to be, I'm not surprised. This stuff happens. Now, I'm going to pretend I didn't just read that and move on. Who wants to go next?"
"My turn, please." Puppet spoke up. He looked a little bit better now. "I'm actually feeling happier now. I'll take a shot at reading one of these stories."
"Go ahead, then."
Puppet looked down at his storybook. "I've already started, and it seems pretty good. The synopsis is quite promising."
"A what?" Freddy stuttered.
"Synopsis. Kind of tells you the basic premise of the story in a minute or less." Foxy explained. "Sort of spoils the story ahead, but oh well."
"Hey, it's not spoiling. They don't tell you any major plot points." Puppet said. "Anyway, I'll read it now." Puppet paused. "A few hundred years before the current time, when things were very different, there lived two men. During that time, they were creating a civilization where many people could live and thrive, and its very future rested in their hands. It was their responsibility to guide the civilization to a prosperous tomorrow.
"But it wasn't any ordinary situation. The very well-being of the civilization was theirs to concern themselves with because of one object: a ring. This was a powerful ring, an extraordinary ring. It had been lost to time for centuries before then, only resurfacing at that point in time. With its finding, powerful groups of humans had banded together in search of the ring, so that its power might be theirs to wield. The two men were the guardians of the ring and the civilization around it, tasked with keeping it safe from greedy and heartless individuals who wanted to steal it.
"And so, faith was placed in the hands of young Frodo, as the person who inherited this ring stepped into the pages of legend."
Okay, I know what this is now. Foxy said in his thoughts. This story was very obviously a rip-off of Lord of the Rings, and in fact had nothing whatsoever to do with Christmas. Ballora seemed to be aware of this too, as she facepalmed in exasperation. Freddy, however, kept his attention on Puppet, unaware that anything was off about the story.
"See, this ring had dark powers, those which none could comprehend at first sight." Puppet continued. "It could cause those living on Earth to spaz out, creating distorted second personalities in their hearts that fundamentally altered the way they acted towards the world.
"A second personality? Hey, that's almost like me, isn't it, Foxy? I may be my own entity, but in this form, I'm as much of a part of you as you yourself are."
"Now you come out? Listen, voice, you're not a second personality. You're a nuisance." Foxy groaned. "You ended up in my head for some reason I may never know, but as far as I'm concerned, you have no place there anyway."
"Such hostility. I do wish to be my own self again, you know...but while I am here, I do enjoy messing with your mind. Why not replace your boring self with me? I can change things in such an interesting way..."
"Listen, whatever you are! Go away!" Ballora called. When the voice stopped responding, she breathed a sigh of relief. "Good, it knows how to listen. There's that. Continue on, Puppet."
"A task laid in wait for Frodo." Puppet went on as if he were a seasoned storyteller. "His very destiny is to become the bearer of this powerful ring. But not to wield its powers that transcended time and space, no. Instead, they sought to destroy it so no one would be able to use its powers for evil. To do so, they must go on a treacherous journey to the fabled mountain of doom and despair, where the ring had been forged. There, they could destroy it...the end."
There was a brief amount of silence.
"That's it?" Foxy stuttered. "That's all?"
"Yeah, come on! What happens next?" Freddy begged. "Do they go to the mountain? Do they fight some evil force? Do they win? Tell me!"
"I don't know! There's two more books of the story that I don't have in my possession. I only have the first one." Puppet replied. "I just have The Group of the Ring as of right now."
That had nothing to do with Christmas. Foxy thought again. Nothing at all. He looked at Ballora and her miffed expression and could tell that she was thinking the same thing as he was. "...let's just move on." Foxy muttered. "Ballora, you haven't gone yet, so it's your turn."
"Okay, then, let me see." Ballora answered, looking at her storybook. "Which story did I pick? Hmm...oh, here it is! I really like this one!" She smiled with glee. "Okay, this one's nice. I'll go with this one. Pay attention, now." She paused, then started to read. "In the large, unending galaxy as we know, in a part of it that exists far, far away from our home..."
"How far is it?" Puppet asked.
"Really far. Further than any of us could even know. We'd never get there, even if we headed in the direction of it at a million miles per hour for 100 years."
"Wait, then how'd you get a book telling us about it if it's so far away?" Freddy stammered.
"Because it's a story. It didn't actually happen."
"Oh. Does that mean it isn't real?"
"Yes, it's not real! Now let me read it!" Ballora snapped.
"Freddy, for your own safety, I suggest you heed her advice. I really don't want to get into another fight." Foxy advised, and Freddy nodded quickly and went silent so Ballora could read uninterrupted.
"So anyways, in the galaxy far far away, there lived a boy named Luke."
Foxy was on the verge of facepalming. First a rip-off of Lord of the Rings, now a rip-off of Star Wars? How did this have anything to do with Christmas? And why was Ballora, of all people, telling such a non-Christmas-related story?
"He was young, and he lived alone, alone in the dark, dark world that was this galaxy." Ballora continued. "He thought himself simple. He had no idea of his true potential, no idea of the things he could accomplish if he knew...but little did he know, he was destined for greatness! And also, this happened during Christmas."
"But how does this have anything to do with Christmas? This guy seems completely unrelated to the entire holiday." Foxy reasoned, already knowing what was going on.
"Because a galaxy far, far away can have Christmas too! No questions!" Ballora exclaimed loudly. "So, while he was setting up his Christmas tree with his aunt, uncle, and pet robots, one of the robots turned out to have a secret, something that he needed to tell Luke. But due to his faulty wiring and mad, mad levels of insanity, he couldn't say a word about it! So then-"
"Uh...excuse me!" Freddy said, and he jumped out of his chair and bolted out of the room, heading into the kitchen.
"Huh? Hey, come back!" Ballora called, running after Freddy. Foxy followed, and so did Puppet.
Freddy was found rooting through one of the drawers in the kitchen. When the others approached him, he perked up in nervousness. Dinah watched them confusedly from the counter he was still working at.
"Oh no, don't come down on me! I was hungry! I just wanted some chicken pizza, but I can't find any." Freddy said nervously.
"But we can't make any of that, or any pizza in general!" Ballora reminded him. "Dinah said so. He can't make the pizza without tomato sauce, so until we get some, no pizza for us."
"But Mario said he would make it, right, Mario?"
"My name is-a not Mario!" Dinah grumbled, sounding annoyed. "I can't make pizza, okay? No tomato sauce, no pizza! Ay yi yi!"
"But you promised..." Freddy whined.
At this moment, Foxy had had enough. The stories had devolved into random rip-offs of existing things, and now they were just joining Freddy as he bothered Dinah about chicken pizza. Why was he even still here? What was the point? He was cranky from all of the nonsense that had happened, and frankly, he had just about had enough. Time to get out of there.
"You know what? I'm done. I'm not standing for this anymore." Foxy voiced abruptly, turning towards the door. "I'm going to go back to room and get back to resting."
"But we haven't found out the uncle's name!" Freddy complained.
"And what about Puppet? We were supposed to be curing him!" Ballora protested.
"Well, let's see. Feel any better, Puppet?" Foxy asked.
"No." Puppet responded simply, frowning.
"Exactly, the stories didn't help. Everyone, leave Puppet be. Puppet, I recommend going to your room and getting rest. Let the anti-virus program delete the virus for you."
"Alright, alright..." Puppet left the room.
"I'm going to head back, too." Freddy added, leaving the kitchen as well.
Ballora sighed in disappointment. "Fine, I guess we can stop it here. I'll see you tomorrow, then, Foxy."
Foxy gave her a reassuring smile. "Hey, for what it's worth, your idea wasn't terrible. But what Puppet really needs is sleep, okay? Let him be for now. Let's just do our own thing for the rest of the day."
"Yeah...okay. I'll go back to my room now. Bye." Ballora said, smiling back and then leaving the room.
Foxy waved to Dinah quickly and then left, leaving the confused and slightly aggravated chef to his own devices.
Minutes later...
Foxy was back in his cove. The curtains were open as he sat in there with Mr. Wigglesworth, contemplating the events of the night.
Mr. Wigglesworth, that was just...weird. Foxy recounted in his mind. And it kind of got random and dumb at the end there. Glad I managed to break it up, because I don't think it would've helped to let that carry on any longer. Let's just go back to rest for now, okay?
Okay. I'm glad I didn't have to be involved in that tomfoolery, personally.
Good for you. Let's deactivate now.
Foxy closed the curtains and went to sleep without a second thought.
While he slept, Foxy had yet another dream with the cloaked figure.
"What, need more convincing? Freddy's back. Is that not good enough of an excuse? He's expendable and idiotic. Surely you can spare his parts."
"Heck no! He's my friend, and I'd never walk up and dismantle him for parts, no matter what. Sure, he can be a bit much at times, but I still care about him."
"How disappointing. In my experience, friends can just drag you down, impede your progress. Accomplices? Now that's something that can have a use. But if you're so inclined to be set in your ways of 'friendship'...then I have nothing else to say to you now. Go ahead and sleep. I have work to get to."
And the darkness consumed the room once more, as Foxy faded back into normal unconsciousness.