Scrooge You.

AN: I updated! It's a Christmas miracle!

Disclaimer: I do not own Ci-Ci and the Music Factory's "Everybody Dance Now". Though I wish I did. God damn it, I wish I did. I also don't own that one song by that one group that dances a lot.

Act Six: The Phantasm Loosens Up Her Buttons

When Lambert woke up, his face was mashed against a drool-spotted pillow and his arm was clenching onto his teddy bear. Slowly, his eyes opened a few times, a look of perpetual 'WTF'-ness clinging on his face. He realized that he had a pounding headache, as the throb echoed inside his skull.

"No more animal prints," He muttered stupidly, slowly sitting up. "Urh…" The pounding in his head wouldn't stop!

Bump

Ba-Bum Ba-bum

Bum.

Doo do do dut.

Doo do do dut dut dut du dut

His eyes widened upon the dawning that he was not able to have his head throb in a groovy mid-nineties dance beat.

"Everybody…"

Lambert slowly stood up from his bed and headed towards the source of the commotion, apparently his living room.

"Everybody dance now!"

His footed pajamas stepped soundlessly against the ground, and by the time Lambert reached his destination, his jaw dropped straight to the floor.

There was a very loud, and very blonde, Daughter of the Moon dancing in a Santa hat and lipsynching to an old dance hall hit.

"Doo do do, doo do do dut dut dut du dut du dut dut du du! Come on let's sweat, baby! Let the music take control!"

Upon closer evaluation, Lambert realized his entire apartment had been redecorated. There was tinsel hanging all over the torture machines, a bright red bow on his Black Cloak of Doom, and worst of all a HUGE Christmas tree with a disco ball perched on top of it.

Now, Lambert was a tolerant man. Well, maybe not so much as tolerant as barely passable at basic understanding for human beings, but when he gets woken up, to off-key singing, to see his ENTIRE LAIR festooned in holiday cheer, well TOO MUCH WAS TOO MUCH.

"WHAT THE HIZZLE?!" He cried sharply, his voice acquiring a higher pitch at his righteous shriek of indignation.

The blonde Daughter of the Moon, whose name wasn't really important because in all honesty, what did she actually do, turned around. "Hi there grumpy butt!" She chirped, doing a tinkly wave in his direction.

"My apartment!" He declared nastily, "What did you do, you worthless female?"

The blonde pouted slightly, "Well, that wasn't very nice." Her smile immediately returned, "I'm sharing the spirit of Christmas!"

His left eye began to twitch rapidly, "Sharing…the spirit…of Christ-" He yet again almost mouth-vomited, "The Fourth Week of December?"

"Yep!" She said, nodding and completely oblivious to the homicidal rage acquiring within Lambert.

"I! You! Fiend!" He choked out, unable to form coherent sentences, "I AM GOING TO DECK YOUR HALLS!" He cried, launching himself at her, fingers flexed for strangulation.

"That doesn't make sense!" The blonde protested, now vaguely alarmed as she quickly stepped to the side.

Lambert, the only person in the history of the world to get a D+ in elementary gym class, charged straight into his Christmas tree. "Arg! Thwarted!"

She simply scratched her head, "Um, so, like yeah." She cleverly articulated, "Are you Lambert, vaguely fearsome lord of the underworld?"

He turned around, his wrath being subjected upon the poor Christmas ornaments shaped like smiling children as he tore them apart, "What do you mean? You don't remember me?"

She shrugged, "Well, in all honestly, what do you actually do?"

Lambert paused, not quite sure how to answer this. "I…plot…things." He paused, "Evil things."

There was an awkward pause, which Lambert broke by shattering an ornament using his thumb and index finger.

"Ok, then," She cleared her throat, "How about an introduction? I'm Vanessa, total hottie with good grades, and I will be serving as your Phantasm of Christmas Present!" At this, she pulled a chord and a banner fell from the ceiling, 'Vanessa Brings Christmas Love!' scribbled on it in gel pen and sparklies.

He blinked slowly, "Phantasm? Don't you mean Ghost?"

She made a 'face', "Ew, no. Phantasm sounds way cooler than Ghost. It has a fantastic pizzazz, don't you think?"

Lambert wasn't quite sure what the word 'pizzazz' meant, assuming it had nothing to do with pizza, so he just nodded his head dumbly.

"Anyways, ready to go accept cheer and warmth into your heart by seeing how you screw everyone else over?" She asked peppily.

"Will you leave me alone afterwards?" He said, glaring and crossing his arms over his chest.

"I kind of have to, I have a date with dreamy Michael in about an hour." Vanessa replied.

"You don't really dedicate yourself to a job, do you?"

"It's actually kind of like a community service type of gig."

"Ah, I see." He sighed, himself not being a fan of community service, "Let's just get this over with." He groaned, "I'll be with you in a moment, just let me incinerate the tinsel."

Vanessa pouted yet again, "Spoilsport." A pause, "At least keep the bow on your dress thing."

"It's NOT a dress and I will most certainly NOT keep the bow." He shot back quickly.

"Why not?" A devilish smirk crawled on her face, "A man secure enough in his masculinity would wear the bow-"

"Well I'm not!" He yelled suddenly, making the situation just that much more awkward. He became very aware that he was still wearing the footey pajamas.

"Um, I'm gonna go take down the banner," Vanessa trailed off.

"And I have a thing," Lambert responded quickly, ripping apart the tinsel with added vigor.

OoO

Ten minutes later, the two were on the go, walking towards a destitute neighborhood. Homeless people looked unhappy, children shivered in streets, people were eating out of dumpsters, a drunk guy was peeing on a mailbox…

Lambert twitched, "Why are we here? Poor people give me hives. They're…unseemly."

Vanessa nodded somberly in agreement, "I know! But, this is where your lame employee works, so it's our first stop."

Lambert's face twisted, "Uh, not Stanton, I hate that guy!" He spat.

"Me too!" Vanessa proclaimed, turning to Lambert, "Wow, who would've thought we'd have so much in common!"

Lambert clenched his jaw and desperately avoided having to think about how much he had in common with The Blonde One.

The two approached a grand dump of an apartment, a malodorous stink filtering through the air, that smelled like a mixture of broken dreams and stale cheetos, "Here you go," Vanessa said, gesturing to the door but not moving.

His eyebrows shot up, "You're not going in with me?"

"No way! It's dirty!" She proclaimed, fishing out earphones for her Ipod inside of her jacket, "Besides, I'm not the holiday hate-monger."

He just slowly shook his head, amazed, "You're so evil, you would make a terrific Follower!"

She smirked smugly, "Don't I know it!" Suddenly her head started to bob as music filtered in, "Loosen up my buttons bay-bay, but you keep frontin' me, saying what you gonna do to me, but I see nuffin'-"

Lambert sighed and carefully pushed open the door, hoping he was brave enough for the evils he was about to face…

TO BE CONTINUED!

Not very funny, I know, but this was a bridge to the next chapter which has, yes, Tiny Tymmie. I'm sorry for taking so long in updating, but the next part should come easier as I HAVE FOUND THE PLAY!

Next Up: "God Bless Us, Everyone!" "…Tymmie's high again, isn't he?"

!nym!