Chapter One
Tis the Season
Christmas at Litwak's Arcade meant several things. Firstly, it meant the arcade was closed from the 21st through the 28th of the month, since Mr. Litwak refused to keep his employees from their families during Christmas. Secondly, it meant Christmas music would be played in the arcade from the start of December until vacation time arrived. Lastly, it meant the arcade characters had a chance to get into the festive spirit themselves.
Not that they had always had the clearest idea what Christmas was even supposed to be about. Early attempts at celebrating it had tended to veer towards the haphazard, ungainly amalgamations of commercialization and overheard snatches of conversation from the gamers. By the time the 1990s came around, their efforts had begun to coalesce into greater coherence. By the turn of the twenty-first century, they were having pageants and parades in Game Central Station. Many great memories did the characters have of this decade- though in the wake of the Sugar Rush incident, few wanted to recall the year King Candy was Santa Claus.
Now, just over four years after the arrival of Hero's Duty and Presidential Combat, the characters had at least some level of understanding about the cultural and religious background of Christmas. Not that the influence of commercialization had ever really gone away. On the contrary, there would still be a big celebration this year in Game Central Station. And of course, many characters would obtain presents for their friends and coworkers.
But, Ralph thought to himself, at least one thing's different this year. We got to say goodbye to Mr. Litwak, since he knows our secret now.
The old arcade owner, always the last to leave, had lingered long enough to wish all the characters a wonderful eight days off before heading home. "You tell me how things went when I'm back, alright?" he had said. They had all promised a full account. After everything the arcade had been through, who could say no to its kindly owner?
It'll be a great Christmas without the likes of SANG around to mess things up.
Ralph got up from the boulder that was his chair and glanced at the dying embers in his fireplace. "Gotta give that thing some more fuel," he said aloud. Moving towards a stack of logs, he selected an extra-large one. This he tossed onto the embers. It soon caught fire and began to burn merrily. "Much better."
There was a loud rapping at his door.
That'll be her. Ralph grinned. I can play her a trick, payback for that taffy incident.
"Hey, Ralph!" a voice called from outside. "Hey, come on, it's your old chump here to see you!"
Ralph didn't reply. Instead, he crouched down just out of the door's path, out of sight of the windows.
"Hey, come on, Ralphie, open up!"
Still, Ralph did not answer.
"Hey, Ralph? Did you oversleep again?"
The door opened, revealing the diminutive form of Vanellope von Schweetz. "Ralph?" she said, entering the house and shutting the door behind her. "Where are you?"
Ralph leaped into view, his arms raised. With a shriek, Vanellope jumped into the air. She landed in Ralph's outstretched arms.
"Hey, no fair!" she exclaimed. "What'd you do that for?"
"Guess," said Ralph.
"The taffy incident?"
"You got it."
"I thought I said I was sorry?" said Vanellope, glitching out of Ralph's arms and onto the floor.
"Yeah, well, you turned right around and started bragging about it again the next day," said Ralph.
"Oh, me and my big mouth," said Vanellope. "Sorry about that. It's just…it was pretty funny."
"You wouldn't say that if you'd been the one having to clean up the mess," Ralph replied.
"I guess you're right," said Vanellope. She smiled. "Anyway, I brought you something."
"We've been through this every time," said Ralph. "You wait on giving the presents until Christmas Day."
"Yeah, well, I just couldn't wait to give this to you!" She drew a sheet of paper from her jacket pocket and held it out to Ralph. Ralph took it and looked at it closely.
Stick figures? Except one's a whole lot bigger than the other. She used a circle for the body instead of a stick. And what's with the broccoli in the background?
"It's me and you, standing in front of the trees in your game," said Vanellope.
"Oh," said Ralph. "It's…really nice."
"You mean that?" Vanellope said, a hint of hesitation in her voice.
"Well, nothing's ever perfect," said Ralph. "But yeah, it's cool. Thanks."
"Great!" Vanellope spun about on her heel before plopping onto the floor.
"Whew! I'm tired after all the racing I've had to do."
"The new kart still working out well?" Ralph asked as he placed the picture over the mantelpiece.
"Yep," said Vanellope. "It looks pretty, and it gets the job done. It's working just fine."
"Good," said Ralph. "Everything else well?"
"Yeah…err…things are great!"
"With an exception?" Ralph asked. "You didn't sound so certain there."
"He came back," said Vanellope.
"King Candy?"
"Yeah. I don't what's with my head, but I get these weird visions on occasion. I know he's dead, but it's freaky."
"Notice any patterns?"
"Well…" Vanellope put her finger under her chin, as though she were thinking deeply.
"He only comes when I've got a ton of stuff on my mind," she said at last. "Ever since the…" Her voice trailed off.
"The invasion?"
"Yeah…since then." Vanellope looked down at the floor. "I just…it's only been a few months since…since he died," she continued. "I try not to think about him. But I remembered last night and…and then King Candy showed up for the first time since October, and…"
"Those are just memories," said Ralph. "Mr. Ainsworth can't hurt you anymore."
Vanellope sighed. "Too late. He won."
"Look, Vanellope," said Ralph. "I'm not mad about what happened. None of us are."
"But Ralph," said Vanellope, looking up, "I've got blood on these hands." She held out her hands, palms up. "I pass that empty socket every day. It's empty because of me."
"That wasn't your fault," said Ralph. "SANG did that, and nobody else."
"And they did it because I broke."
"Hey," said Ralph, kneeling down beside his friend. "Hey- you're not invincible. None of us are."
"I know that," said Vanellope. She lowered her arms. "It's just…what if lives depend on me in the future…and I break again?"
Vanellope's expression was heartbreaking.
What do I tell her? Ralph thought. She's got a pretty good point. But she needs to forgive herself.
"Whatever happens," he said, "I'll always be your friend."
Vanellope's face brightened a little. "Thanks," she said quietly.
"Now let's go have some fun together," said Ralph, standing up. "Burger Time sound good?"
"Well, if Theodore Roosevelt's done checking out their meat proce…prop…what was that phrase again?"
"Meat processing practices?"
"Yeah, that was it. I'm not always good with big words."
"Yeah, he's done. Burger Time got the stamp of approval."
"Those presidents like their in-game roles a lot, don't they?" said Vanellope.
"You could say that," said Ralph. He gestured to the door. "Anyway, shall we?"
"Yep," said Vanellope. She threw open the door. "Time for a burger!" she cried.
A crowd of Nicelanders, who had been passing down the street and conversing, stopped to stare at her.
"Oh," said Vanellope, grinning sheepishly. "I guess I was a little loud."
"No worries, guys," said Ralph, following her out of the door.
The Nicelanders returned to their conversations and continued their walk.
"Right," said Ralph. "We're off. Just remember- no caffeine."
"I know, I know," said Vanellope. "You'll never let me live that down, will you?"
Ralph winked. "Never."
A foolish looking grin spread over Vanellope's face. "Race you to the carts," she said.
"Hold on a second-" Ralph began. It was too late; she had already dashed away.
"Fine, I'm coming," Ralph cried. He hurried after her as fast as he could.
"You lost again," said Vanellope, as soon as he reached the carts.
"I'm not as fast as you," said Ralph, pausing to catch his breath.
"Well never mind, then," said Vanellope. "Into the carts, Stinkbrain. It's time to get burgers."