Spenser Mayhew hated Christmas presents. He didn't know why he had ever been excited to receive them. He hated elves, he hated Santa, he hated the colors red and green, and he was even starting to hate the delicious smell of freshly baked Christmas cookies and cake.

These were the thoughts that rang through his mind as he slowly and robotically wrapped the last present in that horrible, sickeningly cheerful red and green wrapping. The sickeningly cheerful music playing in the background just got on his nerves even more. He already hated Christmas songs, especially the awful holiday movie with the red-haired girl Diana loved watching. They had only been at Santa's workshop for a little while, and while it should've been a magical experience any kid would give anything to go through, it was instead a horrifying one.

His sister Beth shared similar sentiments. "Can't we take a little break?" she pleaded, her red hair sagging over her pale, exhausted face. "I'm sure they wouldn't notice."

"I hate Christmas presents," Spenser groaned. "I can't even look at another one, let alone wrap one."

"Me too," Beth agreed, her green eyes fluttering open and shut as she started to sag towards the ground. Spenser caught her.

"Just wait until I get my hands on that little creep, Diana." Spenser's eyes shone with hatred. "I'm going to slice her dolls to pieces. Throw her homework in the fire. Put spiders in her bed…"

"Don't," Beth said weakly. "That's the reason she got us sent here in the first place, remember? It's our fault, anyway." Spenser knew she was probably right, but he was still going to murder Diana when they saw her again. But she was lucky. They never would see her again.

Suddenly, one of the higher up elves marched over, glaring at them. "Get back to work, right now! You've barely done anything, and you're slacking off?"

"Barely done anything?" Spenser gawked in disbelief. He didn't think he had wrapped so much of anything in his entire life before.

"We've done far more than you two," the elf bragged. Spenser wanted to punch him in his pointy, crooked nose. "You've barely cracked the surface."

"Well, we're new here!" Beth snapped, standing up straight again, her green eyes now shining with anger. "We haven't been at it for as long as you."

"And we're not elves," Spenser added.

The elf frowned. "You know, maybe you were telling the truth. Maybe you aren't elves after all. No elf would be this slow and terrible at wrapping presents."

"Yes!" Beth agreed excitedly. "We're kids who were kidnapped here."

"And it's all thanks to Diana," added Spenser, scowling.

The elf shrugged. "Even if you're telling the truth, there's nothing I can really do. Talk to the boss about it."

As he walked off, Spenser and Beth called after him, but he went back to his work. They watched in awe as he wrapped up a present in seconds before they could even see what the present was, the dark green wrapping a blur.

"No wonder Santa has them as his helpers," Beth muttered as she started wrapping a pair of ice skates. Monster Skates, Spenser read on the box. "They're very good, aren't they?"

"I never want another Christmas present," Spenser announced. "Not if it comes as a result of slave labor. I never thought of all the elves who wrapped our presents for us."

Beth burst out laughing. "You sound like Diana. You know she still believes in Santa, right?"

"Yeah, and we made fun of her," Spenser said. "But now we can see that she was right."

"Oh, yeah," said Beth, embarrassed. "I guess that's another thing she'll gloat about to us." She looked around the crowded, bright workshop. "It doesn't look like labor to them." She was right. They acted like machines, tiny, brightly-colored machines. Spenser couldn't help watching in admiration.

"Maybe that's a good thing," he said. "Not just because it isn't as arduous for them. We can prove we aren't really elves because we aren't working like the others."

Beth's eyes lit up. "Yeah, great idea!" Then she deflated again, slouching over the work station. "But that elf wouldn't listen to us. He said to talk to Santa."

Spenser's face darkened. "I hate him now too," he announced. "I think I preferred the disappointment I felt when I found out he wasn't real."

Beth giggled. "I remember. We were four, right? We decide to stay up all night to see Santa."

"You fell asleep," Spenser reminded. "And I woke you by punching you."

Beth scowled. "That wasn't nice. I got a bruise."

"And we saw our dad delivering the presents," Spenser recalled with a hint of nostalgia. "I didn't speak to him for weeks after. I was so mad at Mom and Dad."

"So was I," Beth agreed. "But now, I'd give anything to see them again."

"Do you remember that awful Christmas movie Diana loved to watch?" said Spenser. "I felt like throwing up just from watching it."

"Ugh." Beth made a face. "We teased her so much about it, saying it was a baby movie only babies liked. But it didn't stop her from dancing around the house and pretending to be Susie Snowflake whenever it was Christmas. I bet it was so she could pretend to have red hair like us."

"I'd even like to see her again," said Spenser. "If only so I can torture her for subjecting us to this."

"You really shouldn't," Beth insisted. "That's the reason she did it."

"Well, she didn't have to send us to be slaves here!" Spenser exclaimed. "That's overreacting a little, don't you think? Talk about disproportionate retribution."

"Big words," Beth teased. "But I can understand where she was coming from. We taunted her all her life. I guess she was glad to be rid of us."

"Well, the feeling's mutual!" Spenser exclaimed, though he was lying. He'd miss not having a little sister to torment.

"We do kind of look like elves," Beth noted. "With our red hair and green eyes."

"And we always made fun of Diana for not looking like us," Spenser recalled. "Now I wish we looked like her. At least then, we'd look less like elves."

"I wish I could have some of these presents," Beth remarked, picking up the latest one thrust towards them. It was in a purple box with the words "Robot Tag". Through the plastic window was the robot.

"These elves seem like robots," Spenser noted, glancing around. They were all hard at work, their narrowed eyes intensely focused and their nimble hands working quickly.

"I bet they won't even notice if we borrow one of the presents," Beth said mischievously.

Spenser grinned. "Probably not. It's the least they owe us, after we worked so hard for them. Surely they won't miss one or two presents."

"Not that robot, though," said Beth. "It's too big."

"Yeah," Spenser agreed, starting to wrap it up. He did it as quickly as possible, trying to mimic the elves, but they were still much faster. Beth looked at the present on her side. It was a small, round blue ball with soft spikes sticking up. A Kooshball. She picked it up.

"It's a Kooshball," she said, squeezing it in her hand. "It's very warm."

"It's small enough for us to take," said Spenser excitedly. He felt a bit disappointed over getting excited about a Kooshball, but anything would beat wrapping it up. There was a piece of paper next to it. "That must be the instructions. We'd better take that as well."

"Hang on," Beth said, frowning as she squeezed it. "It's moving."

Spenser rolled his eyes. "Give me a break. Do you think now is the time for jokes?"

"No. Really," Beth insisted. "It feels warm." She froze. "I think I heard it make a sound!"

"Cut it out," Spenser snapped, snatching it from her. He quickly stuffed it under his sweater, and handed Beth the instructions that she stuffed in hers. It did feel very warm. It also felt like it was moving a little, but Spenser brushed it off. It was probably just the thick, heavy sweater squeezing against it. He was mad at his mom for giving him that sweater too now. It was because of the sweaters that they had been taken here.

"Great. Nobody will notice," Beth whispered, but her hands shook nervously as she started wrapping the next present.

Spenser's hands really felt like they were about to fall off. A wave of depression swept over him, and not just from having all the joy and love for Christmas zapped away from him. Were they be doomed to be slaves to Santa forever?


"Hey, slow down!" Sam Weaver called to his best friend, Billy Liff, as he skied down the mountain.

Billy looked over his shoulder and stuck his tongue out at him. Sam rolled his eyes in response.

"Focus on skiing, idiot!" he yelled to him.

"I could do this with my eyes closed," Billy yelled back, laughing. "And I won't slow down just to let you win. I'm going to beat you!"

"Don't be so sure about that," Sam called, picking up the pace and forcing his skis to hurry up.

They were racing down a mountain in the Ice Cream Cone Ski Lodge, where they were staying in for the Christmas holidays. They had taken lessons for a few days before, and now felt comfortable racing each other. But they were on a mountain with no other skiers.

"Seriously, stop!" Sam called, trying to slow down. "You're right in front of me!"

"I know," Billy called. "To show you that I'm winning."

Sam tried in vain to stop his skis as they collided right into Billy, sending them both tumbling to the cold ground, their skis sticking towards the air. They groaned, but laughed as they untangled themselves from each other.

"Sorry," Sam giggled as he got to his feet. "Actually, I'm not. I just had to crash into you and stop your boasting."

"I guess I had that coming," Billy admitted, brushing himself off. "But that just proves I would've won. You were so clumsy, you sent us both to the ground."

"I bumped into you on purpose," Sam lied.

"Sure," Billy replied, grasping at the snow around him with his gloves. "Ugh. I hate falling when I'm skiing. I can never get up."

Sam held his hand out to his friend and helped him up. "I think we've skied enough for one day," he announced.

"Yeah," Billy said, shaking the snow off his coat. "I wish we had poles like those skiers in movies always do. Then we'd really look like we were skiing."

"We better go back down, or Emily will be coming after us," said Sam.

"Your sister is such a tattletale," said Billy.

"Tell me about it," Sam agreed. "She'd probably be right to tell on us, though. I don't think we're allowed to go skiing here."

"Definitely not," Billy said. "It's so far away from all the other mountains. But I was sick of the baby lessons, and all the skiers getting in the way."

Sam giggled. "Emily is still taking the lessons, and she can barely get her skis on."

"Probably wishes she was at home, doing her hair," Billy agreed. "Your mom and dad forced her into it."

"It'll be good for her," said Sam. "Still, I have to be grateful to her. Her hair dryer was what saved us from the ice vampire."

"That's thanks to her hair dryer, not her," Billy pointed out. Sam snorted.

"Seriously, we should head back," Sam said, starting to point his skis southwards.

"Not yet," said Billy. "It's a good place to do other stuff in the snow, too."

"Like what?" Sam asked.

"I don't know. Build a snowman?" Billy suggested.

"We already built one yesterday," Sam pointed out. "Well, before Emily ruined it."

"We can build one without her now," Billy said, bending to the ground. Then he straightened up. "Oh, I know! How about a snow vampire?"

"Snow vampire?" Sam repeated. "But that's just—"

"Come on," Billy urged, bending down again and starting to roll out a ball of ice. "We sculpted that ice cobra, right? And we know what an ice vampire looks like."

"I don't know," said Sam. "I don't want to see another vampire made out of ice or snow."

"Come on. I doubt this one will come to life," Billy pointed out.

"True," Sam admitted. "Oh, alright. But we better be quick."

Billy threw him a snowball. "Wait, how do we make a snow vampire, anyway?" Sam asked as he started scooping up snow.

"Start by making a regular snowman, and then add vampire features," Billy suggested.

"Good idea," Sam replied.

Just then, the boys found themselves being thrown to the ground on top of each other again. Sam felt something press into his side, while Billy got hit on the head with something hard. They weren't the only ones in the pile. There were others on top of them, who had bumped into them while coming down the snowy mountain as well.

"Sorry, sorry!" the two little boys giggled as they stood up.

"I'm so sorry," the girl with them apologized, sounding more apologetic. She pulled the three sleds off the boys and helped Sam to his feet. "Are you two okay?"

"We're fine," said Sam. "But I think my friend needs more help. He has more trouble getting up after falling on skis."

She helped Billy up as well, before turning her attention to the sleds, which the two boys had already climbed on again. "They don't look damaged."

"What about if we're damaged?" Billy grumbled, brushing himself off. Sam brushed a chunk of snow off his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," the girl repeated. "I wasn't expecting to see anyone else here."

"I guess it's our fault," admitted Sam. "We shouldn't have been in your way. We were just about to head back."

"No we weren't," added Billy. "We were building a snow vampire."

The girl turned to them. "Snow vampire?"

"Nothing important," Sam said quickly, as she inspected the beginnings of the snow creation they were working on.

"It doesn't look much like a vampire," she noted. "At least we didn't knock it over."

"We just started," said Billy.

"Sounds cool," she said. "Way better than a regular old snowman."

"I know," agreed Billy.

"I'm Marsha Zane," she told them. "And these are my brothers Ricky and Ronnie. We're sorry for bumping into you. Right, you two?"

"Right," Ricky spoke up as Marsha pointed to him.

"Sorry, sorry!" Ronnie added.

"It wasn't the first time I was bumped into," Billy griped.

Sam ignored him. "I'm Sam Weaver, and this is my friend Billy Liff."

"Nice to meet you," said Marsha. "What are you two doing out here? We haven't seen one other person out here."

"Actually, we probably shouldn't be," Billy admitted. "We're away from the other skiers at the lodge."

"Ah, I see," said Marsha. "Are you from the Ice Cream Cone Ski Lodge?"

"Yeah," said Sam. "You live nearby?"

"This is called Spooner Hill," explained Marsha. "My brothers and I go sledding here often."

"And Marsha always beats us," Ronnie added, pouting.

"I always beat you," Ricky told him.

"We were just racing as well," said Sam.

"I was winning," added Billy. "At least, until he bumped into me, like the sore loser he is."

"It was an accident!" Sam insisted.

"I thought you said you did it on purpose," Billy pointed out. Sam blushed and didn't answer.

"I'm sick of racing," Ricky complained. "Can we try to find the abominable snowman?"

Marsha rolled her eyes. "Ricky, I told you, there's no such thing. It's just some silly story someone made up."

"But they said it was true!" Ronnie insisted. "They found the abominable snowman and brought him home, and he threw magic snowballs."

"It's probably just some wild hoax," Marsha said.

"But why can't it be real, if we're—"

"Shh!" Marsha clamped her hand over Ricky's mouth.

"Abominable snowman? I heard of that," said Billy. "It was brought to Pasadena, right?"

"It's probably just a rumor," Marsha said. "Anyway, there's no way we'll find it out here."

"You're probably right," Billy agreed.

"But there's also a rumor about the Ice Cream Cone Ski Lodge," said Marsha, turning serious. "I heard of it."

"Huh? What rumors?" Sam asked.

Billy groaned. "We don't have time for this."

"It's about one of the ski dips there," Marsha continued. "The Double Dip."

"Huh? That's the hardest one," said Sam. "My sister Emily is still on Banana Split. Actually, she's still on 'trying to get her skis on'." He giggled.

"She's smart," insisted Marsha. Her voice was so low, so intense and serious, that Sam and Billy listened intently. It also had a slightly husky quality. "Because, on the Double Dip, there's more than skiers. There's also a ghost."

"What?" Sam shrieked.

Billy rolled his eyes. "Give me a break."

"It's true," Marsha insisted, her eyes flashing. "The ghost of Double Dip lures skiers to their deaths."

"It's true," Ronnie added, shivering a little. "It killed a girl just last year."

"Yeah right," Billy scoffed, but Sam could see him shivering as well.

"Her twin sister said it was the ghost," Ricky added, clutching onto his brother. "Everyone thought she was crazy, but I think it's true."

"She probably was crazy," said Billy. "Just talking out of grief, I expect."


"Have you seen this report? A woman disappeared from her house," said Rachel, reading the newspaper intently. "She was from a town called Spooner Hill. One moment, she lived in her house, and the next, she was nowhere to be seen. The people in town couldn't find her anywhere. They didn't care enough about her to call the police, but somehow they got hold of the story anyway."

"Why are you reading such morbid reports on Christmas, Rach?" her mother asked, frowning.

"I don't know," Rachel sighed. "I guess I'm just still thinking about Wynona." Her eyes scanned over another story, about a brother and sister who had gone missing a few days ago, and whose parents were still trying to find them. They were last seen wearing the sweaters their mother had made them.

"Oh, honey." Her mother sighed and kissed the top of her head. "I know it's terrible, what happened to your sister. I miss her too, more than I've ever missed anyone. But you can't sit around indoors every Christmas. It's still a time to have fun and celebrate, right?"

"I guess," Rachel sighed.

Her mother didn't understand. She still thought she was crazy for what she had said about the cause of her twin sister's death. Her parents thought she had just recklessly skied down an overly steep hill. They thought Rachel was speaking out of grief when she told them the true cause. But she knew what had really killed her sister. And that Rachel herself had been responsible for it as well.

It had been a year since her sister's death, which had happened around the same time as now. Now Christmas wasn't filled with joy and family and laughter. It was just a painful reminder of how she had gotten her twin sister killed. She didn't feel like celebrating anymore. It felt like a part of her was missing. Whenever she tried to, she was reminded of her sister, and how they would always do everything together at Christmas. And at all other times. She thought she could almost see her a couple of times, but of course, it was just her imagination.

It was her fault too. It was her fault just as much, Rachel told herself. She had gotten her own sister killed. She wished that she had gone down the hill instead, instead of telling Wynona to. Why did she have to be so cowardly and make her sister do it? She would never forgive herself.

Rachel forcibly put down the newspaper. If Wynona was here, she'd make fun of her for reading depressing reports on Christmas, and tell her to forget about her and celebrate. That was, if she didn't yell about how much she hated her for getting her killed. Rachel wouldn't blame her.


"Come on, Jared! What are you waiting for? Let's go skiing!"

"Leave me alone," Jared groaned. Living with Jack Frost was fun sometimes, but other times, it was a nightmare. Heh, nightmare...

Jack Frost's grinning face appeared in front of him. "Did you hear about the girl who went skiing with her twin sister at the ski lodge, and was killed by a ghost?"

"Leave me alone," Jared repeated. He couldn't believe he had ever wanted to feel cold and snow. Now he wanted nothing but sun again. He'd give anything to feel the sweltering sun of Arizona again.

"Don't worry," Jack Frost assured. "The ghost only targets identical twins. You don't have an identical twin, do you?"

"I don't have any siblings," Jared snapped. "You know that. At least, I don't think so."

"Maybe you have a secret one you don't know about," Jack Frost suggested. "Then again, if you did, he'd live with me as well."

Then he grew serious. "That's a true story, though. About the girl. She just wanted to have some fun at the ski lodge. She didn't know one of the kids there was a ghost who killed identical twins."

"What a weirdly specific ghost," Jared said sarcastically. "Is there one that only kills winter spirits who hold kids hostage?"

"Actually, it was because he had an identical twin himself," said Jack Frost. "So he had a reason for it. And I've never held you hostage. You live with me. You always have."

Truthfully, Jared had no idea if that was true or not. Maybe he did live with Jack Frost, and just didn't remember. Maybe living in hot, sunny Arizona had been a dream, and this was his true life. He wasn't sure. But he had been living with Jack Frost for a year now, and was beginning to think it was his true life.

"Alright, I'll go skiing," Jared agreed grudgingly. He actually liked skiing with Jack. It was fun, even though he always insisted on making it a race, and Jared always lost.

"Yay!" Jack Frost gave him a hug. Jared was surprised whenever he did. Jack liked to show him affection occasionally. When he wasn't freezing or blasting him, that was.

Actually, Jack Frost was pretty cool. He was always teasing and throwing snowballs at Jared, but he also always wanted to spend time with him, and genuinely seemed to care about him on occasion. He was a bit like a cool older brother. Jared actually hated the constant cold more than Jack Frost himself.

On the way, Jared stopped at Jack's Christmas tree. He stared at the ornament hanging from it showing his house in Arizona. It seemed so far away now. Was it really his house, or something from the nightmare?

"Don't make it a race this time," said Jared as he slid on his skis. "You always make it a race."

"Aw, afraid to lose?" Jack winked at him. "Don't worry, I'll go easy on you."

As Jack shot off, Jared started down the hill as well. He couldn't help thinking how lucky he was. How many kids could say they lived with Jack Frost?


"Mom, I don't need a babysitter," Beth complained.

"Maybe not, but your sister definitely does," her mother retorted.

"I don't think so," said Beth. "Just put her in front of a sickeningly cheery Christmas movie, and she'll be satisfied."

"I don't watch A Holly Jolly Holiday anymore," Jody spoke up.

"That's truly a miracle," Beth muttered. It really was. At least now she wouldn't have to watch it all the time and hear the awful, yet catchy music. "You like other awful Christmas movies instead."

"They aren't awful!" Jody insisted, punching her sister. Beth kicked her in response.

"See, this is why you two need a babysitter," her mother sighed. "To stop you from killing each other."

"I'd rather kill that awful tune from my ears," said Beth, wincing as she heard the tune of Susie Snowflake's song start up in her head again.

"If it's so awful, why do you keep thinking of it?" Jody pointed out.

"That's why it's so awful," Beth retorted.

"We're leaving now," their father announced. "Be good, dearies."

"Yes, itty bitty please with Christmas trees?" their mother added in a sickeningly sweet voice.

Beth gasped in shock, before seeing her parents burst out laughing.

"That's not funny!" she protested angrily. Even Jody looked freaked out.

"Sorry, dearie— I mean, dear." Her mother kissed her head before leaving.

"That wasn't funny," Beth pouted.

Jody sighed. "It's too bad I can't watch A Holly Jolly Holiday anymore, since you threw it in the fire."

"That was the best thing I've ever done," said Beth.

"I wanted to watch it again," Jody pouted. "Did I really start acting like Susie Snowflake?"

"It was a nightmare," said Beth, scowling at the excited expression on her sister's face. She couldn't believe Jody was older than her. "You actually wanted to become her?"

"Well, no," Jody admitted. "Not completely. But what's wrong with a little holiday spirit?" Beth winced. She had thought the exact same thing when she had started being possessed by that terrible Christmas icon.

Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. "That must be the babysitter," said Beth, going to answer it.

"Ask her if she has any Christmas movies," called Jody.

Beth opened the door to see an old woman dressed in dark, dull colors. Her face was pale and serious, her lips drawn tightly together as she stared down at Beth with judgmental eyes. Beth felt disappointed, and a little intimidated. She didn't look like much fun. Her appearance certainly fit her name, Mrs. Boren.

"Uh, hi," said Beth, letting her step in. "Shall I take your coat?"

"No thank you, miss," Mrs. Boren said. She took off the coat herself. "I'm most pleased to be hired for a job again. I rarely get offers anymore, but decided to try it again. The last girl I looked after was an absolute terror. I hope you and your sister are more agreeable."

"Oh, we are," said Beth, though she wasn't sure about Jody.

"Oh, actually, I made a slight error," said Mrs. Boren as Beth led her to Jody. "That girl wasn't the last child I looked after. There were two others, a brother and sister, earlier in the year. They had a dog who the girl was always trying to dress up, much to her brother's chagrin. I managed to get her to stop. The boy stopped being a nuisance, as well. I got them both to sit quietly and read, side by side. They looked much nicer."

Beth made a face. She didn't sound like much fun.

"And last year, I looked after a pair of twin sisters," Ms. Boren continued. "They were even more aggravating. They constantly switched places and tried to confuse me, but I was too astute for that. I managed to put identifiers on them to tell who was who. They weren't happy about that. I managed to get them to write an essay about why it wasn't nice to confuse people. I told them that if they wanted to switch places while doing so, they could, but it wouldn't do much difference."

She definitely didn't sound like fun! Beth felt sorry for those poor kids.

Jody looked up as Mrs. Boren entered your room. "Miss Boring! I drew this picture for you."

Beth held back a laugh. She had thought the babysitter's name sounded a lot like boring, but Jody didn't seem to realize it wasn't actually boring.

Mrs. Boren looked disgruntled, even more so as Jody shoved the picture in her face. Beth groaned internally. It was a picture of Susie Snowflake, drawn in bright pink crayon. "Oh, it's... lovely," she said, folding it in half. Jody frowned. Mrs. Boren placed it in her pocket. "I'll take it home with me."

Jody smiled again. "Yay! I'm glad you like it, Miss Boring."

Mrs. Boren frowned. "I wish you wouldn't call me that. My name is Mrs. Boren."

"Sorry, Mrs. Boring," said Jody innocently. Beth couldn't hold back a laugh, and Mrs. Boren glared at her as she snorted.

"Sorry, Mrs. Boring," she said, hiding her grin behind her hand.

Mrs. Boren scowled. "I think you girls need to be taught some manners."

"Huh? What manners?" Jody stared at the babysitter, confused.

"Jody doesn't know any better," Beth said. "She really did think that was your name. She wasn't trying to make fun of you. She just isn't too bright."

"Hey!" Jody protested.

"Oh, really?" A thin smile spread over Mrs. Boren's face. "Well, you know better, though, don't you, Bella?"

"My name is Beth," she corrected.

"That was a nice picture you drew, Josie," Mrs. Boren told Jody.

"My name is Jody," she corrected. Then the sisters frowned, catching on.

"Okay, we get it. It isn't nice for someone to mispronounce your name," said Beth. "Sorry, Mrs. Bor... en." She grinned. It was too easy and obvious not to. Even her actual name sounded too much like boring. Jody giggled.

"I think you girls need to be taught some manners," Mrs. Boren said with a frown.

Half an hour later, Beth and Jody were sitting side by side, changed out of their admittedly dirty and wrinkled outfits, though the new ones from their wardrobe resembled Mrs. Boren's, quietly reading huge books that even beat their schoolbooks for dullness. Whenever they tried whispering to each other, Mrs. Boren would snap at them. She was reading an even thicker book that looked even more boring. Jody started humming the Susie Snowflake theme song, and was silenced by a sharp look.

"She really is Mrs. Boring!" Jody whispered loudly to Beth. "Why did Mom and Dad hire her?"

"Girls, I was about to say you were done reading," announced Mrs. Boren. "But now I think a little extra time is necessary."

"Nice going, Jody," Beth hissed.

"Sorry, Mrs. Boren!" Jody hurriedly apologized. "I didn't mean to say that. Please say we can stop reading. I mean, I really liked this book, but I've had enough of it. And thanks for getting us to change out of our dirty clothes." Beth rolled her eyes. Jody was great at sucking up.

A smile spread across Mrs. Boren's face. "Well, since you apologized so nicely..."

Beth held her breath. "...I'll only make you continue for ten more minutes," she finished.

"What?" Jody groaned. "Ten more minutes?"

"That's so unfair!" Beth protested.

"Trust me, it could be worse," said Mrs. Boren. "It could be much worse."

Beth shuddered. What did she mean by that?


"Careful, Max," Jessica warned. "Don't try on any of the presents unless you're sure they're safe."

"Don't put any on your dog," Max retorted, tearing open a present. "I told you not to dress him up. Look what happened."

"I didn't know it would turn him into a growling monster!" Jessica protested. "And I think you owe Stinker an apology. You made him yelp when you hit him."

"He bit me!" Max pointed out. "And I had to get the skates off somehow."

"Served you right," Jessica said. "He was probably getting revenge on you for being so mean to him."

"You're the mean one," retorted Max. "Dressing him up like that. No dog should have to be put through that humiliation and trauma."

"Maybe he likes it," Jessica said. "I think he does."

Max rolled his eyes, returning his attention to his present. It was a box painted purple with an action figure inside. The action figure was a robot surrounded by spikes, and the box said "Robot Tag".

"Cool! A robot." Max started to tear the box open. "Hey — it says it's from Uncle Billy."

Jessica frowned. "I don't think we have any uncles named Billy."

"Neither do I," said Max. "I guess we forgot about him. I'll have to ask Mom later. I'll have to thank him for this cool robot."

Max spent the rest of the evening playing with it in front of the Christmas fire. He made both Jessica and Stinker scream by directing the spiky robot towards them.

"Whoever Uncle Billy is, I'll have to thank him," Max said, trying to pick up the robot.

Suddenly, it inched away slightly. Max stared in surprise. Had it just moved on its own?

No, it must just be his imagination. He picked it up and placed it at the foot of his bed.

Jessica ran into his room. "Max, we're watching a Christmas movie," she said. "Want to join?"

Max groaned. "If it's A Holly Jolly Holiday, count me out."

"Not that one, stupid!" Jessica said. "I stopped watching it when I was four."

"Well, still, no thanks," said Max. "I'd rather stay here and play with Oscar."

Jessica burst out laughing. "You gave it a name? And you say I'm the dork."

"He scared you good," Max pointed out.

"You scared Stinker too," said Jessica. "That really wasn't nice."

"I'll scare you out of my room," said Max. Suddenly, Jessica gasped, glared at Max, and stormed out of the room.

Max smirked, thinking just the sight of the robot had scared her. But when he glanced down at it, he saw that it wasn't at the foot of his bed anymore. It was a little to the side.

"Why did you move like that, little guy?" he said aloud as he picked him up. "I know I put you there."

The robot stared back at him, its eyes gleaming excitedly, and a little playfully. Somehow, Max wasn't afraid. He had a feeling that all the robot wanted to do was play.


"Remember to read the instructions this time," Kelly teased as Brad opened his present.

"Don't worry, I will," Brad assured. He shuddered. He could still feel the weight of the Gronk sitting on him.

"Ooh, skates." Kelly reached for them, but Brad batted her hand away.

"They're mine," he reminded. "I've always wanted ice skates. Where are the instructions?"

"Monster Skates. Be a monster on ice," Kelly read. "That doesn't sound nice."

"It sounds cool," said Brad. "I'm already a monster on the basketball court."

"But you never follow the instructions Coach gives you," Kelly reminded.

"Well, I've learned my lesson now," Brad said, shuddering again. He could still hear the sickening squelch the Gronk made. "Where are the instructions?"

"Hmm. I don't think there are any," said Kelly as she started to open the box.

"Hey! That's my job," said Brad, snatching it from her. "But you're right. There don't seem to be any instructions. He turned the box over and checked inside the skates, but couldn't find anything."

"You're lucky. There don't seem to be any instructions," said Kelly.

"Are you sure?" Brad turned the skates over and shook them, and turned the box inside out.

"Now I think you've learned your lesson too well," Kelly teased. "You're trying too hard to look for instructions."

"Maybe I should look it up," Brad suggested. "There has to be a book about ice skating, right? I'll read how to put the skates on and how to skate."

"You've definitely learned your lesson too well," remarked Kelly as Brad went off. She stared at the skates.

"Surely Brad wouldn't mind if I tried them on," she said, taking her socks off and slipping her feet into the skates. She bent down to tie them. "These really do make me feel like a monster," she said. "Now I just need to find ice..."