Every Loud in the Loud house liked Christmas a lot. But Mr. Grouse, who lived just next door to the Louds, did not.

Mr. Grouse hated Christmas, the whole holiday season. And don't ask why, nobody knows the exact reason. It could be perhaps that his tie was too tight, or perhaps his parents did not treat him right. But the most likely reason of all to attest, he had a serious case of heartburn in the middle of his chest. But whatever the reason his tie or his heart, he stood there on Christmas Eve wishing upon the Louds a fart.

Staring down from his upstairs window with a sour old man frown, at the brightly decorated Loud house, the eyesore of town. For he knew every Loud in the dreaded house next door was busy spreading holiday cheer galore.

"And they're hanging their stockings," he snarled with a sneer. "Tomorrow is Christmas, it's practically here." Then he growled with his wrinkly fingers nervously drumming. "I must find some way to keep Christmas from coming.

For tomorrow I know all those Louds will rush downstairs to open their toys. And once the wrapping paper is off they'll make so much noise, noise, noise. Especially the one in the purple shirt with a skull. Her music is obnoxious and the lyrics quite dull. Then there's the small one who's as smart as Einstein, creating all those explosions and migraines of mine. The dumb one may give me decent fashion tips, but she never stops blabbing words past her lips. The oldest one is always talking on that new fangled device. And what is a Boo Boo Bear? A form of head lice? The one all in black is seriously scary, and might have the ability to teleport like a fairy. The one with the braces is absolutely no fun, all she ever does is crack pun after pun. And who could forget the grease monkey in overalls, with all of her dirty pets bouncing off the walls. Oh but her twin is definitely much worse, with her high pitched shrieking and tendency to curse. The athletic one is rude in every sense of the word. Her loud bodily functions and lack of empathy are absolutely absurd. The little baby I first thought to be innocent and sweet, but then her diaper filled and she cried, and I had to retreat. The lone boy is the only one to have his head screwed on straight, but even then he always loses stuff in my yard, just great.

All those gifts and toys will create an abundance of noise, electric guitars and spaceships to Mars, comedy props and sea foam colored tops, vampire teeth and a pink sash and reethe, superhero comic books and jars of worms with fishing hooks.

Next Lynn Sr will dish out the Christmas feast. There will be succotash and Loud hash, deviled eggs and turkey legs, casseroles and soup bowls, and his bread made with yeast. Bread made with yeast is a food I can't stand in the least. And then the dessert will be that pudding of fig. The scent looms over to my house and smells worse than a dead pig.

Then finally they'll invite over the McBride family, and they will each gather around the living room tree. And this is the part I hate most of all. Those Louds and McBrides the tall and the small, with Christmas bells ringing, they will start singing."

And the more Mr. Grouse thought of this Loud family sing, the more Mr. Grouse thought "I must stop this whole thing! Some sort of action must be taken right now. I must stop Christmas from coming, but how?"

Then he got an idea. An awful idea. Mr. Grouse got a wonderful awful idea.

"I know just what to do." Mr. Grouse laughed in his throat. "I'll make a quick Santa Claus hat and a coat." The old man chuckled and buckled. "What a great Grousey trick. With this hat and coat I'll look just like St. Nick."

(music fades in)

"You're a mean one, Mr. Grouse. You really are a sleaze. You're as cuddly as a cactus, you're as charming as a disease Mr. Grouse. You're a rotten burger with, moldy black cheese.

You're a monster, Mr. Grouse, your heart's a raging whirlpool. Your brain is full of spiders, your lungs are full of stool, Mr. Grouse. I wouldn't touch you with a, 39 foot long gardening tool."

(music fades out)

"All I need is a reindeer." Mr. Grouse looked all around, but since reindeer are scarce there were none to be found. But did that stop old Grouse? Hah! Mr. Grouse simply said "If I can't find a reindeer I'll make one instead." So he went to his closet underneath the stairs, and grabbed the stuff he had taken from Louds, which was rightfully theirs. He took Lynn's hockey stick along with Lincoln's sled. Then he grabbed some twine quick, and tied the stick at the head of the sled.

He next grabbed Lana's plunger and Lola's princess wand, to act as reindeer antlers. Mr. Grouse commended himself "Way to go above and beyond."

He grabbed Lisa's jet engine to move the sled through the snow covered street, and Leni's pool floaty to provide a cushioned seat. With his custom made sled now ready for action, Mr. Grouse lightly sanded the bottom, to get better traction.

Mr. Grouse slipped on his custom Santa attire, and made his own house dark by putting out the fire. He grabbed several bags and one large sack. He stuffed the bags in the sack and threw the sack over his back. Then he downed a large fist of heartburn pills, though they're always ineffective, and gave him the chills.

Then Mr. Grouse quietly stepped outside and off his front stoop, and towards the Loud House, careful not to walk in Charles's poop. All their windows were dark, no one knew he was there. All the Louds were dreaming sweet dreams without care. "It's quiet," thought Mr. Grouse. "That sure is rare."

The codger snuck around to the house's side, where a ladder was waiting to give him a ride. "Louds never clean up their junk. This is the one time it helps me, who woulda thunk." Mr. Grouse climbed to the ladder's very top, and got up on the chimney with one small hop.

And he slid down the chimney where he hit some bad luck. Halfway down, the old man ended up getting stuck. But he broke free again after a minute or two, then stuck his face out of the fireplace flue, where the Loud family's stocking hung all in a row. "These stockings are the first thing to go." He pulled out a magnet which yanked out each nail, and the stockings all fell into his stocking collecting pail.

Then he slithered and slunk with a smile most unpleasant around the whole room and he took every present. He even took the tree's lights and all its pretty balls, and took all the other hanging decorations off of the walls. And he stuffed everything in bags then Mr. Grouse very nimley, stuffed all the bags one by one up the chimney.

(music fades in)

"You're a vile one, Mr. Grouse. You radiate anti-fun. You have all the tender sweetness of Ronnie Anne in season one Mr. Grouse. Given the choice between the two of you, I'd actually choose Grouse, but you're still a son of a gun.

You're a rotter, Mr. Grouse. You're the king of sinful plots, your heart's a dead skunk covered in moldy hairless spots, Mr. Grouse. You're a three decker peanut butter and sauerkraut sandwich, with Chunky Chili Sauce."

(music fades out)

Then Mr. Grouse slunk over to the ice box, where he took the Louds' feast. He took the casseroles and soup bowls, the deviled eggs and turkey legs, he took the bread with yeast. He cleaned out the fridge as quick as a flash, why Mr. Grouse even took the last portion of Loud hash.

Then he stuffed all the food up the chimney to flee. "And now," grinned Mr. Grouse, "I will stuff up the tree." As Mr. Grouse took the tree and started to shove, he heard a small sound like the coo of a dove. He turned around fast and he saw a small Loud. It was the smallest Loud Lily, who wore just a diaper and looked rather chilly.

She started at Mr. Grouse. "Santa Claus, why? Why are you taking our Christmas tree? Why?"

But you know, that old man was so smart and so slick, he thought up a lie and he thought it up quick. "Why my sweet little tot," the fake Santa Claus lied. "There's a light on this tree that won't light on one side. So I'm taking it home to my workshop my dear. I'll fix it up there, then I'll bring it back here."

And his fib fooled the child. Then he patted her head and he got her a drink, and he sent her to bed. And when little Lily Loud was in bed with her cup, he snuck back to the chimney and stuffed the tree up. Then he went up the chimney himself, the old liar, and the last thing he took up was the log for their fire. On their walls he left nothing but hooks and some wire. And the one speck of food he left in the house, was a crumb, that was even too small for Bitey, Lana's pet mouse.

(music fades in)

"You infuriate me, Mr. Grouse. With the angriest super rage. You're a crooked cocky codger and you car's from the stone age, Mr. Grouse. Your soul is an appalling dump heap, overflowing with the most disgraceful assortment of deplorable rubbish imaginable, locked up in a tiny smelly cage.

You're a foul one, Mr. Grouse. You're a nasty wasty tumor. Your heart is full of unwarranted hate, your stache requires a groomer, Mr. Grouse. The three words that best describes you are as follows, and I quote: "Doomer, gloomer, boomer."

(music fades out)

It was a quarter of dawn and all the Louds were still in bed when Mr. Grouse packed up his- er I mean Lincoln's sled. Packed it up with their presents, ribbons, wrappings, decorations and dinner, Mr. Grouse smirked, being such a sinful sinner. Then Mr. Grouse ignited the jet engine in back, and sped out of the Loud's yard, headed for the nearest tall cliff where he would dump the large sack.

"Poo poo to the Louds, he was Grousely humming. "They're finding out now that no Christmas is coming. They're just waking up, I know just what they'll do, they're mouths will hang open a minute or two, then all those Louds will cry boo hoo. That's a noise," Mr. Grouse grinned. "that I simply must hear." He paused, and Mr. Grouse put a hand to his ear. And he did hear a sound rising over the snow. It started in low, then it started to grow.

But this sound wasn't sad. Why, this sound sounded glad. Every Loud in the Loud house, the tall and the small, was singing without any presents at all. He hadn't stopped Christmas from coming, it came. Somehow rather, it came just the same.

And Mr. Grouse with his penny loafer shoes, stood knee deep in the snow, puzzling and puzzling, "How could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags." And then Mr. Grouse thought, he came up with something he had previously not. "Maybe Christmas doesn't come from a store, maybe Christmas perhaps means a little bit more." Then as the sled full of Loud family gifts started to tip off the edge of the cliff, Mr. Grouse panicked jumping out of his feet, he dove and grabbed onto the sled getting a face full of sleet. He tugged and he pulled but it wasn't any use, the load was too heavy for one single old moose.

And what happened next? In the Loud House fandom they say, Mr. Grouse's anti heartburn meds finally kicked in that day. And with his chest now feeling loosened and limber, he stopped the sled of gifts before it went 'timber!'. Mr. Grouse found the strength of 10 Grouses, plus 2. He picked the sled up and rode it back down to Franklin Avenue. And now that his heart didn't feel quite so tight, he whizzed with his load through the bright morning light. He rode right into the Loud family's front yard. And stopped the sled, which with his newfound strength was not at all hard.

"Hey Louds!" shouted Mr. Grouse.

All of the Louds rushed out of their house.

"Hey Mr. Grouse, what's all that?" asked Lincoln.

"It's all your presents!" exclaimed Mr. Grouse, his voice sounding pleasant.

The younger Loud kids all cheered with glee. And ran over to the large sled full of Christmas objects, including the tree. Mr. Grouse passed out presents to every single Loud. And as he did he felt rather proud. A new video game for Lincoln, a football for Lynn, vampire teeth for Lucy. For Lana, a snake skin. A new dress for Leni, a rubber chicken for Luan. A large pack of diapers for Lily, there were so many. A ball point pen for Ria, a tiara for Lola, a spatula for Lynn Sr., a gift card for Lori, and iodine for Lisa.

There were even gifts for the Loud family pets. For Charles a bone, Geo some green veggies, Walt a new birdhouse. Mr. Grouse now had no regrets, as he passed Cliff a can of tuna. Then lastly he held up a box addressed to Luna.

"Thanks Mr. G!" said Luna with a smile.

"You're welcome," said Mr. Grouse, smiling as well for the first time in a while.

Luna opened the box to reveal a new electric guitar. The rocker immediately plugged it in and played a chord loud enough to leave a mental scar.

Mr. Grouse however kept his smile intact. Her music wasn't that bad, but would he say it was good, no not exact. "Well that's everyone, Merry Christmas Loud family!"

"If you want," said Lynn Sr. "You can join us for our holiday dinner, and caroling around the tree."

Mr. Grouse replied "I just might take you up on that mack."

So in the end, Mr. Grouse brought everything back. The presents, the decorations, the tree, the candies, items previously confiscated, and all the food for the feast. And he, himself, Mr. Grouse, buttered and cut up the bread made with yeast.

Welcome Christmas, bring your cheer, cheer to all people far and near. Christmas Day is in our grasp, so long as we have hands to clasp. Christmas Day will always be, just as long as we have thee. Welcome Christmas while we stand, heart to heart, and hand in hand.