Wow. So how much does it suck that I am getting fewer reviews on this thing now that I have fixed it all up than back when it was a mess? Let me tell you, a whole freaking lot. But somehow I have lots of hits, so if for any reason you're reading this and are just kind of apathetic about reviewing, don't be afraid to drop me a line. Praise, flames, whatever, I just like reading what y'all think. Okay, now I'm done ranting, and on to the good stuff. Or, at least, what I think is the good stuff. Finally Marco's Christmas party has arrived, and now the drama of it all can begin. From this point forward, much of the story has been carried over from the previous version, with a few additional scenes here and there. So basically I just drug the whole thing out a little. But in a good way...at least I hope. I don't own Degrassi or the Muppets or Dickens...so enjoy!

"Nog?"

The question came out of nowhere, and Ellie squinted warily at the festive beverage a shimmering Paige Michaelchuck had thrust in front of her. Good Lord, it was only beginning.

Yes, she had given in and come to Marco's for a force-fed helping of "holiday cheer." Shut it.

Okay, so a quick review. Remember how Ellie Nash had no spine? Well yeah, turns out that such things don't grow over night, because when the cold winter sun dawned on the day of the festivities, she was still in dire need of one. Now mind you that she was just as vehemently opposed to attending as she had been all along, but the relentless arguing with her obstinate best friend was draining, and she hadn't felt like getting into a drawn-out catfight with Marco. God knows the boy was more than capable of throwing one hell of a hissy fit. And after all, with the year that she had been having, giving up and giving in seemed like the only natural thing to do.

Let us recount the tasks Ellie had thus accomplished this year. Giving up on trying to get better and giving in to the allure of cutting again? Check. Giving up on hoping people will understand who she is instead of a believing a stereotype and giving in to lying blatantly? Check. Giving up on hoping her mother would stop drinking herself to death, and giving in on turning a blind eye to what the woman was doing? Check. 'Tis the season to be jolly...right?

Wow, didn't she seem like quite the emo little bitch right now?

But then again, when didn't she? Upon arriving, she made a beeline to the abandoned couch Marco had shoved against the far wall of his living room in order to give the dancers more room, though she was sure he had not intended for it to be used as a fortress to those lacking in holiday cheer. She did not stop to find her host, or even to glance around subconsciously to see if Craig had made it in yet. In her way of thinking, she had done Marco the favor by coming over, and she sure as hell didn't owe him any additional effort. He said she would have fun, but Ellie was bound and determined to prove him wrong. Sitting sullenly all by herself on the sofa, she was perfectly aware that her posture didn't exactly exude charisma, but that was what she was aiming for anyway. She had no problem with the fact that the jolly partygoers (the smart ones, at least) were tending to steer clear of her general vicinity. Engaging in small-talk with a pseudo concerned classmate (i.e., the head cheerleader) was certainly not something she could stomach at the moment. Speaking of stomaching things, though, eggnog...

Mmm, she had to admit that she had always had a particular affinity for the stuff. Back when she was a kid, and her dad was home for Christmas, he would keep a carton of the stuff in the Nash fridge from the day the store started stocking it and...but not that any of that matters anymore of course. Ellie was the one who bought the eggnog now, and she doubted her father would get the chance to taste it until he was home again. If he ever... Tonight, however, she suspected that the beverage would be sans the Crown Royal she had grown accustomed to flavoring it with as of late.

Okay, she knows everything you are thinking, so put your pick up your jaw and shut your mouth! Alcoholism is genetic! If her mother had a problem then there is a high likelihood that she could as well! Yeah, yeah, she knows all that, and once upon a time she had vowed never to touch the poison that had taken a hold of her mother's life, but after awhile...fuck it, you know?

The thought made its way through Ellie's mind as she tentatively sipped her drink, and was surprised to find her assumption proved wrong. Not Crown, of course, but whiskey none the less, cheap as it may be. And perfect Paige just might have been the one to spike the stuff, since Holiday Barbie was obviously more than a little bit tipsy as she plopped down on a chair across from her. The twinkling glitter she had for some reason felt the need to sprinkle in her hair was enough to make Ellie nauseous regardless of the liquor, and her unglossed lips curled in distaste at the rim of her glass. Obviously, the alcohol in Miss Michaelchuck's system had to have been the encouraging factor in Paige deciding to break through the barrier Ellie had attempted to set around herself, and must have also been what kept her from noticing that her presence was not exactly welcome. But just because she was there didn't mean Ellie had to take notice of her, and so as the glittering girl babbled on about the "glamorous gala" they were both attending, Miss Nash let her mind wander.

Paige's dress was green...holly green (eww, was that on purpose?)...mistletoe green...mistletoe was a deadly parasite that attached itself to trees and sucked the life out of them. Hmm, guess there was something about this season she could relate to, she thought with a smirk.

"Lookie here, Miss Ellie Nash, secretly a diehard Kermit the frog fan."

"Huh?" Ellie wondered aloud as she was abruptly startled back to reality, almost spitting out her pleasantly tainted eggnog in the process. And just who was it that was doing the starling and inducing the spitting? Well, none other than the one and only Craig Manning, as he oh-so nonchalantly took a seat next to her on the couch.

"Kermit the Frog, you know The Muppets? Miss Piggie, Fozzie Bear, etc, etc?" he continued, stretching out a lanky arm across the back of the couch, blissfully unaware of its close proximity to Ellie's shoulders. Or at least, blissfully unaware of the chills its proximity was sending down her spine.

"Thanks for the review kind sir, but I think I know who The Muppets are. I just don't know why the hell I am suddenly an enthusiast." She replied, bringing her frothy glass to her lips and taking an overindulgent gulp. Jesus.

"Well ho, ho, ho, calm down there Scrooge! Where's your Christmas spirit?" he joked, leaning forward slightly to tease her, the twinkling lights from Marco's Christmas tree illuminating his (beautiful) face.

"I'm not a Scrooge. You're the Scrooge. You Scrooge." She quipped childishly, peering at him from over the rim of her glass. "Besides, how can I be a Scrooge as well if I evidentially already have an unknown fetish for frogs?"

"All right, watch it there with the attitude little missy. All I know is that when I walked in to this conversation, Paigey McDrunkerson over there was going on and on about how The Muppets Christmas Carol is the best adaptation of the Dickens holiday classic to date, and you were just kinda smiling and staring into space. Now I don't know about any secret fetishes you may have, but I'm pretty sure I still have Sean's number and I could always call him and see if he remembers how you liked it."

"Oh you would, would you?" her tone was teasingly skeptical, and he responded with an overly enthusiastic nod. "And just what makes you think I shared my deepest sex secrets with Sean Cameron, eh? For your information, I reserve that kinda stuff for Esteban, my personal gigolo." She replied with a smirk, running a fingertip around the rim of her now empty glass and staring at him challengingly.

"Esteban, huh?"

"Yep, Esteban."

"Hmm, now did Esteban owe a frog costume, or did you two have to rent one?"

"So, The Muppets Christmas Carol, huh? That's pretty good?" she said, choking back a laugh and turning her attention over to Paige, who sat humming to herself blissfully in an adjacent armchair. God, it would be so much easier to get over Manning if a simple conversation with him didn't just...ignite every part of her.

"It better than just good! It's abso-fuckin-lutely fantastic!" squealed Michaelchuck, leaping up from her seat cushion fervently and clearing her throat in order to properly assault their eardrums, "Heh, hem. This comes from the beginning of the movie, when Scrooge is visited by the ghosts of his old partners. 'We're Marley and Marley, booooo'-WOAH," she exclaimed suddenly, grasping unsteadily at the arm of her chair as her solo was cut short by a sudden case of alcohol-induced dizziness.

Oh yeah, this was going to be an interesting evening.

"You know, I thought that Scrooge only had one dead partner. That's how it is in the play, right?" Craig inquired as he removed the arm from behind Ellie in order to steady their inebriated blonde companion.

"I believe so, but you know, artistic liberty and all. Things change." She said, emphasizing this last part with the slightest bit of wistfulness in her voice, looking just a tad longer than she meant to at the coveted arm that had been taken away from her. Not that she cared, of course, Craig could put his damn arm wherever he wanted to (even around his drummer). The boy didn't notice though, as he continued to smirk at the weaving Paige.

"Whew! That singing wore me out!" Paige exclaimed as she gazed mournfully down at the eggnog she had spilled on the carpet during her little musical number. "I need more nog. Whaddabout you Ellie?"

"Go ahead, fill 'er up. Why the hell not." The redhead responded. She was going to need a lot more liquor if Craig was going to insist on sitting this close to her.

Reviews would be lovely in this season of giving...