Scrooge You.

Disclaimer: I do not own My Little Pony or Christmas. Too bad about the Christmas, if I owned it I could make a fortune!

Act One: Merry Fourth Week of December

Lambert sat at his rather large desk in his rather large cubicle, clicking away frantically with his mouse as he began to forward copious amounts of email to his fledglings. As always, he was wearing his patented Black Cloak of Doom. His office building held no pictures, no Christmas wreaths or décor, and certainly no heat source whatsoever. Heat was for the weak, manly men worked in sub-zero temperatures.

Lambert was a very prosperous businessman who ran his own company. What did his company do exactly you ask? Well, no one was quite sure, although occasionally they did produce some very high-quality and hand-sewn quilts. You see, Lambert was a quite skilled needlepoint, embroidery, and quilting buff, and he thought it wise to play to his strengths. Even though he actually didn't do any of the work in his company, he left that all to his staff of one, a certain blonde-haired, blue-eyed Prince of the Night.

Speaking of that imbecile, Lambert sat up slowly from his seat, his eyes peering over the wall of his cubicle to the adjacent one, where there sat Stanton, carefully sewing together two pieces of felt and wincing occasionally as his frigid cold fingers got pricked by the needle. Lambert watched him for a few moments, waiting forhim to slip up.

Sure enough, after about five or so minutes, Stanton looked cautiously around, slowly placed the felt down, and withdrew the latest Sons of the Dark novel from his desk drawer. Still paranoid, he looked around again before opening it to the dog-eared page.

"Stanton!" Lambert cried, causing the poor lackey to straighten abruptly and fall out of his chair, "Back to work! I pay you to quilt damn it, not to read about hunky teen eye candy!"

Stanton stuck out his lower lip and began to stare doe-fully out into space, "I'm so sorry sir, I'll never slack off on the job again."

Lambert paused, entranced by Stanton's darn good looks. He then shook his head, his evil gene returning, "You stop with that angstful pouting right now!"

Stanton sighed and stopped the entrancing angstful pouting, remorsefully picking up the needle and thread yet again, occasionally sending a longing stare to the cover picture of Obie.

Lambert nodded and gave himself a satisfied smirk, "That'll be the end of that." He said to no one in particular, eagerly returning to his email surveys, determined to fill them out and send them to fifteen people so he wouldn't have a bad sex life for the rest of his days like the email had threatened.

Suddenly, the tinkly little bell charm that hung from his door and served no apparent purpose rang. Lambert groaned, as it had just disturbed his thought process for the witty response to question number twenty on the survey. "Who in the seven hells?" He muttered, leaning back in his chair and eerily peering over the cubicle wall yet again.

"Hi ya!" Came a chirpy voice from behind him, causing Lambert to suffer a near heart attack.

He turned around abruptly and his face fell, "You! What are you doing here!"

Catty stood behind his chair, rocking back and forth on her heels, a huge Christmas wreath in her hand, "Nothing. Just came by to wish you a Merry Christmas Lambert!"

Lambert narrowed his eyes in confusion, "What! Why? Didn't I send you to an infernal netherworld via lightening bolt of doom a few years back?"

Catty gave a huge grin, "I know! I actually hate you quite a bit, and I decided the other day that forcing my Christmas cheer onto you was the most effective way to piss you off!" She grinned hanging the wreath delicately onto the wall and pulling a long strand of colored lights from her pocket and draping them all over his desk.

"You miserable cretin!" He seethed, tearing the lights and wreath off of the wall and effectively stomping on them repetitively, "These are my working hours! Buzz off!"

Catty mock sobbed, "Come now, Lambert, it's Christmas Eve! A time of songs-"

Lambert paled.

"Spending time with your family-"

His face began to acquire a faint puce shade.

"Spreading love, goodwill, and cheer-"

Then he puked a little bit in his mouth.

"And giving to those in need-"

"Stop it!" He outburst, "Gross! Chris- the end of Decemberand you are a big waste of my production time! Get out of here, can't you see I'm busy forcing Stanton to do all the work!"

Catty sighed, a mischievous glint in her eye, "Oh fine, I'll leave, but-" She trailed off smiling, "I just wanted to invite you to a Christmas feast with me and my whipping- uh- boyfriend, Kyle tomorrow."

"Well I'm not coming!" He protested childishly, stamping his foot on the ground, "I'm going to embroider and fill out these internet surveys while you and your little hubby waste your lives! Ha! Take that! How has love, goodwill and cheer ever helped you anyhow?"

Catty shrugged, "It made you mouth-vomit a little bit."

"Get out."

She snickered and immediately headed towards the doorway, pausing for a second in front of Stanton's cubicle, "This is from Serena for Christmas." She said, handing him a pink box with a lovely bow, "She said it contained unmentionables."

Stanton's eyes lightened, he was already having a better holiday.

Catty then strut, because Catty struts from place to place, out the door, humming 'Jingle Bells', just to enrage Lambert more.

Lambert exhaled angrily, pinching the bridge of his nose. He then turned to see Stanton leaning in the doorway awkwardly, "Did you finish the My Little Pony-themed quilt yet?" He asked.

Stanton shifted from foot to foot, "Um, actually, I wanted to know if I could have tomorrow off?"

Lambert's jaw dropped, "You too? A day off, for Chris-" He paled and almost puked again, "The fourth week of December! Next you'll want a raise over $3.50 an hour, with proper and legal working conditions! Maybe even a heat source! Oh, this is anarchy Stanton, ANARCHY!"

"But my Follower posse want me to share a Christmas dinner with them comprised of stolen canned foods from the homeless shelter!" He protested.

Lambert slammed his fist against his desk, "Then fine! But I want you here extra early the next day!" He paused, "And I want two My Little Pony quilts! With sequins sewn into the fabric! Pink sequins!"

Stanton nodded feverishly, "Yes sir Lambert, thank you sir!" He said, turning around and heading back to his cubicle.

Lambert sighed and shook his head in disgust, "Who cares about stupid old fourth week of December anyway." He then began to complete the section of his survey entitled 'WHAT YOU LIKE IN A GUY/GIRL!1:'

There was a knock on his wall and he turned to see Stanton standing there, yet again. "What is it now!"

Stanton looked at his timepiece that was not a watch because he was too poor to afford a watch. Instead he used a sundial, "It's time to close up sir."

Lambert sneered, "It can't be," Then he looked at his sundial, which he had not because he was poor but because he was cheap, "By gods, you're right for once meathead. It's a flicker of a shadow passed the fifth dash."

Stanton inclined his head, "Good night Sir," An evil look crossed his face, "And Merry Christma-"

His statement was cut off by Lambert chucking a sundial at his head.