Scrooge You
AN: I do not own Transformers, the Barbie sisters Kelly and Skipper, Norman Rockwell, Shasta, Campbells soup, or Hello Kitty!. Trust me, if I did, well…that'd be awfully convenient I guess.
Hope you enjoy the Super!Long!Cool!Awesome! Chapter!
Act Seven: Murray Sucks.
Lambert carefully tread inside of the dilapidated doorway, his hands poised and ready to throw infernal lightning bolts of doom at whoever crossed his way. He cursed himself repeatedly for forgetting his 'Poor People' decontaminant spray at home. As soon as he entered, his jaw dropped straight to the floor.
"My lord, a one room house!" He stated, for it was true. Everyone who you'd think would be there were all in that one room. Just hanging out…or something.
He recognized Stanton's worthless underlings immediately. The evil version of The Blonde One, he thought her name was Skipper or something, was huddling in the fetal position, cowering under a Transformers™ sleeping bag that seemed to use those plastic-soda-ring-things-that-kill-dolphins for insulation. Beside her, was the one that looked an awful lot like that dashing young rebel in Grease, wearing a five year old's pink Hello Kitty! shirt that rode above his bellybutton and making Christm…fourth week of December decorative chains out of the same plastic-soda-ring-things-that-kill dolphins. Lambert had to hand it to them, they were terribly resourceful youngsters. And they were helping the environment!
Then Lambert remembered that he hated the environment. He vowed to buy ten packs of Shasta grape soda and not cut up the plastic-soda-ring-things-that-kill-dolphins before he littered.
His eyes drifted to the corner of the room, where he recognized Karyl, shivering in the darkness and maliciously popping some bubble wrap.
"Cassandra," He whined, "I'm…so…hungry."
A door burst open, which Lambert thought was odd considering it was a one room house, and the maroon haired vixen charged in, a soup ladle in her hand, "Shut the hell up Karyl and quit your bitching!" She said, whapping said Follower on the head with the metal kitchen utensil.
Murray, looked up, his eyes filling with tears because Cassandra had said bad words, and Murray was not cool with that, "Cassandra, it's Christmas!" He protested, jingling the sea-creature murdering décor in his hand.
"It's Christmas Eve, dumbass," Cassandra retorted, placing her hands akimbo on her hips.
Murray's lower lip quivered, and his head hung low, "You need Jesus in your life, Cassandra."
Cassandra stared at the greaser for about five full seconds, before hitting him on the head too.
Skipper's head peeked out from Optimus Prime's almighty cover, "When's the food going to get here?" She questioned pathetically, sniffling some, "It's so cold and dark where I am." She added, for good measure.
The maroon-haired Follower sighed, "I don't know, Stanton and Tymmie said they were going to steal some Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup from the orphanage and homeless shelter."
"I hate chicken noodle!" Protested Karyl, angrily throwing his bubble wrap down on the ground with righteous outrage. It made a nice 'pop!' sound.
Cassandra glared at him, and slammed the soup ladle against her palm in a threatening manner, "You will eat the chicken noodle soup and you will like it." She hissed between clenched teeth.
Karyl made a whimpering noise and returned his focus to the non-head bruising bubble wrap.
Cassandra rolled her eyes and looked skyward in a 'Why me?' gesture, before turning towards Skipper, "Kelly, can you go outside and get some snow that's not oddly colored to use for drinking water?" Cassandra looked sorrowfully out into the distance, "Because we're too poor to afford the water bill and our tap comes out brown. Most likely due to the fact that Stanton works such long, cruel hours at Lambert's quilting shop…even though that doesn't make much sense seeing as he's the only one making a paycheck."
"'Kay," She answered dully. Feebly, Skipper crawled out from the sleeping bag, "Did the drunk guy who pees on mailboxes leave yet?" She questioned.
"I think so, it's odd that he always feels the need to piss on government property every Christmas Eve," She responded.
Skipper nodded, "It's like clockwork."
The girl walked towards Lambert, who made sure to edge away from her quickly. Not because she might bump into him, since that would be impossible, but because she had a funky odor hanging around her and Lambert really liked his blue onesie, although he'd never admit it. Plus, the smell was likely to cling to fabric and paying for dry cleaning was terribly expensive.
Murray had made his way over to Karyl, "Hey Karyl, want to play some Christmas games and bask in the heavenly glow of good tidings and friendship?"
Karyl didn't even bother to look up from his vicious popping, "Get bent, lameass." He then added snidely, "You don't have any friends."
"It's true," Cassandra added from over her shoulder, as she tore up some U-Haul boxes to make plates.
Murray's head lowered again and he started to sing sadly, as he was terribly alone and thought the magic of Christmas would bring new life to his spirit, "We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a Merry Christmas-"
"Ugh, shut up Murray," Cassandra yelled angrily, giving Karyl the signal.
Quickly, Karyl stood up and gave Murray a Wet Willy.
"Ew! Ew! GROSS!" He cried, squirming, but it was to no avail.
Lambert watched this bizarre scene and scratched his head, wondering just what exactly he was supposed to be getting out of this.
Just then, the door flew open, revealing Skipper with two handfuls of snow, despite it being Los Angeles with average temperatures of about seventy degrees, "Stanton and Tymmie are coming!" She said, then dropped her voice to a whisper, "And I think they're wasted!"
Cassandra face-palmed herself, "Not this year too!"
Down the alleyway, Lambert could hear some tone deaf caroling going on, "Jingle bells, jingle bells, Batman smells, something, something, Robin laid a freaking egg! Batmobile!"
"Oh no," muttered Karyl, ceasing his ear-slobbering of Murray, whose Christmas spirit still persevered!
"Get the kit," Cassandra said flatly, rolling up her sleeves.
Skipper ran to a room that didn't exist because it was only a one room house, and returned with a baseball bat.
Stanton and Tymmie entered the glorified shack, arms wrapped around each other's shoulders as they drunkenly indulged themselves in good cheer, "Hey kids!" Stanton cried, swaying on his feet.
Lambert grimaced. He still hated that guy.
"Did you idiots remember to steal from starving children?" Cassandra commanded.
Tymmie smiled, "We went to church!" He stated.
Murray's eyes brightened, perhaps things were finally going his way! It turns out there was good in everyone-
"And drank all the communion wine!" Chirped Stanton.
Murray really needed to stop believing in people.
"What about dinner?" Karyl demanded.
"We dressed Tymmie up as a crippled child, and some strange man in a trench coat who kept calling him 'tiny' gave him food!" He said.
Tymmie pulled open his coat, "Look! Candy!" He proclaimed.
Sure enough, about four pounds of sweets, none of which could possibly be tampered with or drugged, spilled out onto the table. The group of dirty Followers leaned around the loot.
"God bless you, Tiny Tymmie," Stanton slurred, picking up a slightly glowing tootsie roll and popping it in his mouth.
Tiny Tymmie laughed maniacally and threw his head back, "God bless us, everyone!" He cheered before attacking some pixie sticks.
The four sober Followers gaped.
"Should we…let them keep eating it?" Skipper asked, slightly wary and taking a few practice swings with her baseball bat.
"They seem to be having a good time…" Trailed off Karyl, as Stanton shoved two jelly beans up 'Tiny' Tymmie's nose.
"I don't know, what do you think-" Cassandra's head turned and looked at Murray.
Murray beamed. They were finally paying attention to him! They wanted his opinion, Murray was someone special and loved-
"Karyl?" The older girl asked, swerving back around.
Murray should have learned his lesson by now.
"Well, shit. I'm hungry, and doped up sugar beats Campbell's Chicken Noodle Soup any day," Karyl said, grabbing a handful of toffee that appeared to have bits of syringes stuck in it.
The two females shrugged and joined in, while Murray started to write the first draft of some angsty poetry.
Lambert watched this scene in a mixture between amazement and shock, thinking something definitely wasn't right with this. Quickly, he punched a hole through the Followers' house, sticking his head out. This went unheeded by the Followers, as they were getting crazy off of child predator-tampered candy.
"Blonde One! Blonde One!" He cried, as Vanessa was still rocking out to that one band with the uber sweet dance moves.
Vanessa stopped her dance funk when she thought she heard the desperate cry of a prepubescent child, "Oh no! Some innocent little girl's in danger-"
"Blonde One!" Lambert said louder.
Vanessa turned and stared at the forty-something man who was shrilling like a five year old girl. With pigtails. "Ugh, what now?" She snapped.
"Take a look at this!" He said, grabbing her arm and pulling her inside through the hole he had taken out of the impoverished Followers' only shelter against the bitter cold of a seventy degree night.
Vanessa watched the scene with wide eyes, as she, a teenager in an inner-city high school, had never seen mind-altering substances used before in her life.
"Ghost-" At seeing the nasty look she shot him, he sighed, "Phantasm, are these kids going to live?"
The Phantasm of Christmas Present evaluated him, touched that he seemed so concerned, "Why do you ask?"
"I'll probably get sued if they died!" Lambert explained, before shaking his fist at the sky, "Damn labor unions and their needs for proper and legal working conditions!" His face turned into a fierce growl, "CURSE YOU WORKER'S COMP!"
Vanessa scratched her head, pretty sure that worker's comp only applied when someone died on the job, but decided to ignore this fact and mess with Lambert's head for the hell of it, "I see a rusted soup ladle and some unpopped bubble wrap in the corner, if these idiotic Followers keep ingesting candy from strangers, they will all surely die."
"NO!" Lambert yelled with great flourish, sinking to his knees, "SAY THEY'LL LIVE, PHANTASM! I CAN'T AFFORD THE COURT FEES!"
Vanessa smirked. Lambert was such an idiot sometimes, everyone knows that Immortals didn't die from eating bad candy.
The pair's attention was diverted as all of the Followers' were now randomly muttering.
"Hey, man, let's like give a toast to the founder of our feast!" Came Stanton, a glassy look in his eyes.
"The guy in the trench coat?" Asked Tiny Tymmie.
"No, Lambert!" Stanton cheered.
"Dude, why?" Asked Karyl, convinced he was talking to a pink elephant with a smexy voice and blond hair.
"Because, Lambert is cool. He helps me quilt, and sew, and quilt, and sew, and quilt, and sew, and quilt-"
"Oh no, he's broken!" Observed Murray.
"And sew, and quilt, and sew, and quilt-"
"I'll get the bat!" Skipper supplied, fingers at the ready.
"And sew, and quilt, and sew, and quilt, and sew-"
But Cassandra beat her to the punch, as she slammed the soup ladle on top of Stanton's repetitive head. The Prince of the Night's face crashed against the dumpster lid the Followers used as a table and he was out cold.
"God bless us, everyone!" Tiny Tymmie said happily.
"You already said that," Karyl stated, looking a little unnerved.
"But, God bless us, everyone!" Tiny Tymmie reiterated.
"You know, Tiny Tymmie's right!" Skipper said, "I love Christmas!"
"Me too! I'm sorry for all the misfortune I caused, and I'm going to be kind to everyone from now on," Agreed Cassandra.
"My bubble wrap is going to be donated to bored orphans!" Promised Karyl.
Murray, seeing this as his time to shine, now that all the Followers were choosing that moment to let goodness slip into their corroded, greasy pits they call hearts, smiled, "Yeah, God bless us, everyone!"
Dead silence overcame the rest of the group as they eyed Murray.
"Man, now that Murray's doing it too, I don't want to anymore," Cassandra said, crossing her arms and scoffing.
"I can't believed you'd say that!" Contributed Skipper.
"Way to ruin Christmas, man," Karyl spoke.
"God bless us, everyone! …Except Murray," Tiny Tymmie said.
Murray stood up and walked to the other side of the room/house, slowly retreating under the Transformers™ sleeping bag.
Lambert turned to Vanessa, and said levelly, "I don't ever want to come back to this place again. Ever."
The blonde nodded enthusiastically, "Let's get the hell out of here."
And so the two hightailed it out of the freak-infested cesspool, always remembering the lesson of never taking candy from strangers. Especially strangers on Christmas Eve.
To Be Continued…
Dun dun dun…
Dot dot dot…
I'm done now.
Up Next: Catty's Secret Kinky Lair