CWCollateral: A Tale of the Resistance

by Manajerkop

What happens when innocent bystanders get fed up with enduring the fallout from Sonichu's zappin' adventures? REVOLUTION, that's what! Experience Sonichu from a whole new perspective, as the PVCC fights to end the tyranny of Christian Weston Chandler.

17. Sub-Episode 3

Sub-Episode 3: "Winter is Coming"

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"A Sonichu and Rosechu Christmas Story"

Written by Christian Weston Chandler and Manajerkop

Friday, December 12, 2008, 14 Brunchville Lane, CWCville, Virginia

It is December 12, 2008, in the City of CWCville, Virginia. The majority of the citizens of CWCville are full of the Christmas Cheer and Holiday Joy. Carolers are singing in various parts of the city. There is a Santa Clause in the middle of the Shopping Mall. The Biggest, Greatly Decorated Christmas Tree occupies the center of CWC-Central Park. All the churches are full with all the believers, be they Christians, Jewish folk, Buddhists, and such. Christmas Trees (mostly) and Menorahs light up most every house, apartment, store and all the living spaces. Even the homeless have a place to stay in the ten Soup Kitchens/Hotels. Although there tend to be one or two humbugged individuals within each group of people.

On this jolly day, we focus on the little house on 14 Brunchville Lane, where we see the Sonichu Family putting the finishing touches on decorating their house. Mama Rosechu and Cera are baking Christmas Cookies of fun and various shapes of Chocolate Chip, Peanut Butter and even Gingerbread. Christine is in her bedroom, rehearsing and trying on her Mary Outfit for the Christmas Play at the AnneWeston Elementary School.

"I am da Viwgin Mawee," she says, admiring her beautiful self in the mirror. "Dat's my stowee, an I'm sticking wif it."

Robbie and Papa Sonichu, with their fully-decorated Christmas Tree behind them, are putting up the Stockings by the fireplace in the Rec Room.

Robbie had just hung his stocking up, between Cera's and Christine's stockings, when he chimes in singing happily, "So da stawckings were huwng on da fiwepwace wif care; we thwee childwen knowing Sanna would be dere. YAY!"

Sonichu smiles for Robbie, kneels down for eye-contact, then tells him, "Yes, partner, you have been very good for helping me put up the decorations and all."

"YEAH!" replies Robbie with joy.

"What are you thinking Santa will put in your stocking?"

Robbie thinks for a few seconds and replies, "Sanna wiwl give me sum candee, an I've asked him ta put da new Wii Owympic game wif Unca Sonic in it. OOH! An I asked him fow da big Wego poweece stayshun set, an awl da stuff Cewah an Chwistine, you an Mama wanted too!" Robbie smiles.

Sonichu replies, "Well, we'll see what he brings us. In any case, for Mama and me, we have our presents already."

Robbie's smile quickly fades and he asks, "Wat did you get, Daddee?"

"Being blessed with you three young ones every day," Sonichu replies. "Our little angels."

Robbie replies, "Yeah! We twy an keep you an Mama happee. YAY!"

"Yes y'all do," Sonichu replies, "on Christmas, as well as the other 364 days in your own cute ways; a smile, drawings, and the time we spend together as a family."

Robbie thinks on that for a moment, and he remembers his drawings of sailboats, Papa Sonichu winning a Wrestler's Belt in the match and the family gathered together. He also remembers the games of catching the football, running training around the yard, even High Velocity Bowling on the PlayStation 3 (with a custom-fitted Wii wrist-strap attached to the Dualshock 3 Controller (I.M.H.O., ALL wireless controllers should be made with the accessory hole for the wrist straps).

After all that remembering, Robbie replies with a smile, "Yes, we do."

Meanwhile, in the Kitchen, Rosechu and Cera have almost finished baking all the cookies for the upcoming Christmas Party. Cera looks at some of the cookies and smells their goodness. Rosechu looks over her shoulder from the sink, almost empty of the dirty cooking tools that were to be cleaned, because most of them were already cleaned and washed, and tells Cera, "They smell really good, huh?"

Cera replies, "Yes, Mama. Dewicious," with a few crumbs hanging from her lips, because she ate one peanut butter cookie. The oven bell dings as the last batch of cookies are done. Rosechu washes her hands, dries them, then switches the oven off and opens the oven with an oven mitt on her right hand and pulls the tray of cookies out. The smell of warm gingerbread refills the air. Cera wipes off her mouth with a napkin from the table, and fetches a fresh, clean spatula from the clean countertop and hands it to Rosechu. The cookies are gently lifted from the tray then are stacked onto a clean plate to cool.

Cera exclaims, "Hey Mommy, I am wooking fowawd ta da Chwistmas pawtee. Tank you fow wetting us invite our fwiends fwom schoowl."

Rosechu replies, "That's okay, sweetie."

Cera continues, holding a cookie in a zip-loc bag, "I can't wait 'til den, wen I wiwl give Kevin dis cookee I made speshul just fow him. It's shaped wike a candewl, wif fwosting fow da wax an da fwame, since he towd me dat he was Jewish."

Rosechu replies, "Aw, that is really special. Kevin will really like it. What flavor is it?"

"It is a Vaniwwa cookee", replies Cera, "I decided ta keep it neutwal ta avoid wisks of awwergies fwom da other fwavowrs."

"Very Smart, Cera," says Rosechu with a smile, exchanging a high-five with Cera, who squeals an enthusiastic "YAY!" The two put all the cookies into multiple zip-loc bags to be saved for the party on the 21st.

Once the cookies were bagged and put away in the pantry, Rosechu turned to her daughter and dusted off her apron. "Thank you for your help, Cera, but I have to fix dinner now. You may go check with Robbie and Daddy and see what they're up to. Keep your cookie safe, sweetie."

"Tank you fow hawving me ta hewp you; I had fun," replied the little pink Rosey as she smiled and stared off into empty space at…something. "I wuv you."

Rosechu set about readying the various pots and pans she needed to cook dinner with, while Cera toddled off past the black-and-white cat clock on the wall and into the living room, with her bagged cookie still tucked under one armstub. As she entered, she noticed tiny white flakes falling past the window, illuminated against the dark blue evening sky by streetlights the candle cookie on a plate on the coffee table between a Wiimote and the TV's remote control, Cera glanced back toward the falling snow and made her way across the living room to the window. Standing on the tips of her stumpfeet, she leaned forward and pressed her face against the cold glass to watch the snowflakes coming down over CWCville.

"Oooh..." she breathed, and a circle of fog quickly formed on the glass around her harelip mouth.

"Hey sis, wats goin' on?" Robbie asked as he waddled in from the rec room.

"It's snowing!" squealed Cera, hopping up and down in excitement as she stared out the window.

"It's snowing?" Robbie had only seen snow once before – back when he was less than a year old. The excited Sonee nearly tripped over his own feet in his haste to reach his sister.

"Yeah, Wobbie; take a wook."

"Wow!" exclaimed Robbie, and pressed his own face against the glass next to Cera's.

"Yeah!" Cera replied. The two children stood there, watching the snowfall in awe. Behind them, Sonichu and Rosechu observed them with silent pride and joy. Finally, Sonichu spoke.

"Look at our children, sweetbolt," he sighed to his wife. "Look at how much jow even a little snow can bring. This marks a good turn for the season."

"Yes," said Rosechu, and waited a few more seconds before she switched to a more important matter. "I heard on the radio that about 2 feet of snow is expected."

"Really?" Sonichu glanced at her in surprise. "Well, if we're snowed-in tomorrow, I'll dig us out. In any case, I'll head out to the supermarket for enough food to hunker down with for a few days."

"You should take the car to bring the food home in," Rosechu suggested.

"Okay," replied Sonichu, as if he would seriously ever try to carry 40 or 50 pounds of groceries back from the supermarket on foot. A few days' worth of food for their family would have fed a human family of five for three weeks, given the voracious appetites of Cera, Christine, and Robbie. But the Sonichu family never had to worry about money – Father's tax exemption laws saw to it that no chu would ever go hungry in CWCville.

"Mommy, Daddy, I tink I've got Mawee's speech memowized," Christine cut in as she waddled up to Sonichu and Rosechu, grasping a slip of paper in her armstub. "I want ta weecite it wif one of you weading awong ta check me off wif. Wiwl you hewp me, pweeeeeeeeeease?"

"Well, Daddy's got to go to the store for food, but I'll help you, Christine," said Rosechu.

"Okay, tank you," the shiny Rosey replied.

"Good luck, Chrissy," added Sonichu with a wink, then turned to Rosechu. "I'll be back in a short while." As he left to start the car, Rosechu gathered Cera and Robbie together with her on the big sofa in the living room and readied the speech to make sure she recited it well. Meanwhile, Christine gave herself one last check-over in her little handheld mirror to make sure she was still the prettiest Rosey in the world and everyone would be able to see her stunning beauty. When she was done, she placed it down and readied herself for her big performance.

"I'm ready, Christine," said Rosechu, and held up the paper. "Go ahead."

Christine took a deep breath and began.*Mary's Song – Luke – 1:46.5-55* "My sowl glowifies da Lo0wd an my spiwit weejoices in God my saviowr, fow He has been mindfuw of da humbwle state of His sewvant. Fwom now on, awl genewations wiwl cawl me bwessed, fow da mightee one has done gweat tings fow me – holwee is His name. His mewcee extends ta dose who feaw him, fwom jen-a-way-shun ta jen-a-way-shun. He has pewfowmed mighty deeds wif his awm; he has scattewed dose who awe pwowd in dere inmowst toughts. He has bwought down wulers fwom dere thwones but has wifted up da humbwle. He has fiwwed da hungwee wif good tings but has sent da wich away emptee. He has hewped his sewveant Isweeal, wemembewing ta be mercifuw ta Abwaham an his dee-sen-dants fowever, even as He said ta owr fathewrs."

Rosechu smiled as Christine finished her recitation, while Robbie and Cera slapped their armstubs together and squealed "YAY!" simultaneously.

"You have recited perfectly, and you showed great emotion," she complimented. "Bravo."

"I am tankfuwl an deewighted," replied Christine, and curtsied proudly. She'd been perfect! There was no way she wouldn't be anything less than the absolute greatest sensation of AnneWeston Elementary School's Christmas pageant now! If Mommy and her siblings had loved it so much, it meant that everyone else obviously would, too! Everyone loved her, because she was so pretty.

An hour later, Sonichu arrived home with all the food he'd collected at the supermarket."Hi, honey, I'm home, and I have lots of groceries," he announced as his wife opened the front door.

"I am happy for your safe return home," said Rosechu happily. She helped him unload the car…well, she did most of the work, anyway. Putting groceries away was women's work, after all. While she put the food away and continued cooking dinner, Sonichu chatted with Robbie and told him all about some dirty greedy jerks who'd tried to take the last cupcake in the bakery section. As the true and original creation of Christian Weston Chandler, he was, of course, entitled to whatever he wanted from the lower classes, so the sugary treat ended up in the family's grocery bag in the end. At the end of his story, Sonichu produced the cupcake from behind his back and handed it to Robbie, who immediately and greedily wolfed down the entire thing. After dinner and a bath for the chocolate frosting-covered Sonee, the family all headed off to bed…well, at least the children did. Once Rosechu was done washing and putting away all the dirty dishes, she and Sonichu headed for their bedroom for some much-needed BDSM.

The next morning, a thick layer of white had settled over 14 Brunchville Lane, and all the doors were blocked from the night's buildup of and Rosechu were up first, enjoying hot mugs of steaming coffee together at the dining room table while they listened to soothing holiday music on KCWC. The children were still asleep, no doubt dreaming precious little baby dreams.

"…and that was Bing's 'White Christmas', and it looks like we will be sharing in on the wish greatly," crackled the radio. The announcer wasn't Jamsta – it was still too early for him and Lolisa to be on. "Here are the closings for the day, here on KCWC. All classes at CWCville University are canceled. AnneWeston Elementary is closed…"

"Well, it looks like the children will be safe here all day today," said Sonichu as Rosechu sipped her coffee. She was wearing a red sleeveless top with a Christmas tree embroidered on the front.

"That is good," Rosechu replied. "After you've lowered the snow level a bit, we can build a snow family with hot cocoa and A Charlie Brown Christmas after."

Sonichu smiled. "I'll enjoy that coca, and a warm shower as well." He took a sip from his mug and felt the drink instantly warm him up from the inside out. He felt the need to comment on it. "Hmmm…that's good, soothing coffee. Well, no sense putting it off; I'll go bundle up for work."

A few minutes later, Sonichu had dressed in his winter jacket and pants, complete with a Santa hat. He stood by the fireplace and placed his hands on his hips thoughtfully, examining the pile of snow that had fallen down the chimney.

"Well, only one way out, since the doors are blocked with snow," he said to no one in particular.

"Good mowning, Daddee!" cried Cera, Christine, and Robbie with eerie simultaneity as they waddled into the living room, all dressed in their adorable little pajamas.

"Good mornint!" replied Sonichu with a smile. "You're just in time to see me imitate Santa. Oh, it is a snow day; no school today." He crouched inside the fireplace, placed a finger on his nose just like Bert from Mary Poppins, and exclaimed "Chim-chim-cheroo!"

Zoom! Sonichu shot up the chimney and burst forth onto the snow-covered roof, covered from head to toe in black soot. It had been a miracle that he managed to make it up without getting stuck. Who knew what could have happened? Shaking himself off, he slid down the roof and landed in a big pile of snow.

"Brrr!" he shivered, and promptly rolled himself into a supersonic speedball. Launching himself at the nearest snow bank, he obliterated it and moved on to the next, and the next, and the next, until the yard, the doors, the front walk, and the driveway were all clear of snow. It took him only five minutes.

Bless his heart, thought Rosechu later, as she walked into the bathroom where her husband was taking a hot shower. In her arms, she carried a white towel, embroidered elegantly with the words "Merry Christmas". As a dutiful wife, she was always ready to serve her husband's every need, even if it were something so insignificant as drying off.

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"The First Day to CWC-mas"

Written by Dunwich99

Saturday, December 13, 2008, west CWCville, Upper West District

Cera squealed happily as she waddled about the CWCville streets alone, away from where the rest of the family was enjoying steaming mugs of cocoa with marshmallows in a nearby coffee shop. She just had to learn more about Hannukah in order to impress Kevin, since he was her Jewish friend, after all. The candle cookie had been a good start…but what else could she do?

Across the street, her opportunity presented itself in the form of a family of three - a father wearing a sweater and glasses, a young boy with a heavy winter coat and scarf, and a young girl wearing an old and used pink My Little Pony jacket - all exiting from a bakery, bags in hand. The girl coughed and sniffled, sick with a cold. The boy and man wore funny little cup hats on their heads, but the man had a little golden star necklace around his neck, same as the one Kevin had.

"Hey! Hey!" Cera shrieked at the family, waddling away from the short attentive view of her father. The trio froze in place in horror at the sight of one of the royal brats. If anything went wrong, if they upset her in the slightest, they would be executed on sight.

"Uh, yes?" the father answered with a forced grin. The children clutched their bags in fear.

Cera winked, puffing her pudgy body up smugly as she introduced herself. "I'm Cewah Wosey! My daddee's da twoo an owiginaw Sonichu an my mommee's da twoo an owiginaw Wosechu!"

The man gulped. "I'm Andrew Green. This is my son, Doug, and my daughter Jenny." The children eyed the larvae cautiously. Since so many innocent children had met their ends for being too close to the royal brats, many parents taught their children to fear and avoid them, at any cost. Andrew nodded and pushed his kids. "Now, if you'll excuse us, we need to go, Hannukah is tonight and-"

Cera's eyes lit up at this statement. "OOH! YAY! Hwannakwah! Dats wat my Jewish fwiend Kevin cewebwates, cuz he's a Jewish fowlk wike you! Tewl me mowe abowt Hwannakwah! I wanna impwess Kevin so he wiwl give me wots of nice pwesents at da Chwistmas pawtee!"

Andrew took a deep breath. This was getting bad. He knelt down next to the Rosey. "You see, Hannukah celebrates the freedom of the Jewish people from the tyranny of the Greeks, but also the…freedom our people have today…" The last part of his explanation felt hollow, since he was saying it in CWCville, right in front of one of the very creatures responsible for his entrapment.

Cera merely giggled. "Nuh-uh! Hwannakwah's wen da Jews wight dere candewls an eat candewl cookees! But no miwk, 'cuz Jewish fowk awe wactose intowewent. Dat's wat my mommee says. Whewe's youwr mommee? She shouwd hewp you buy foowd!"

The two kids looked from Cera to each other, shocked by the ignorance and anti-Semitism spewing from the pink mutant's harelip mouth. Andrew was tempted to crush the hideous little creature then and there, but doing so would place his children at risk. He hung his head solemnly.

"She's working at a Soup Hotel, taking care of some Nanny Program Sonees and Roseys and some fer…I mean, poor homeless babies," he replied, biting back his disgust. His wife, a former teacher, had been drafted as a nanny for orphaned larval chus. The ordeal had been driving her to the brink of depression, every morning leaving with dread, every night returning covered in filth and starving, all her food having been eaten by the greedy babies and her unable to do a thing.

"Tee-hee! I'm gwad my mommee an me don't hafta wowk! Wowk is too haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawd," Cera whined, further infuriating the defenseless man and his family toward the edge of insanity.

Doug stepped forward. "You…you don't understand, you-"

Andrew held a hand over his boy's mouth, silencing him lest they get struck down by the abomination's parents. "Um," he hurriedly continued. "As for the candles, you see, we light a menorah, because it symbolizes the time after our people freed themselves from the tyranny of the Greeks, and the resistance, the Macabees, had only enough oil for their menorah to last one night. But instead, it lasted eight."

Cera stared at him and blinked her freakish green lizard eyes. The concept was totally beyond her, and since she didn't understand it, she didn't care for it. "Dats siwwee! Chwistmas is betta 'cuz we cewebwate da biwf of owr Lo0wd! An den we get pwesents! YAY!"

"Hey! We have presents too!" The boy stepped forward, attempting to defend himself.

Cera blinked again. Usually when her mommy and daddy referred to Jewish folk, they'd say how they always liked to be greedy and keep all their fun toys and games to themselves, because they were so greedy. The concept of them being generous was alien to her…despite the fact that Cera had never given a single thing selflessly in her entire pitiful two year existence. Neither, for that matter, had anyone else in her family. Then an idea came to her…a brilliant, perfect, smart idea.

"Dat means you hafta give me wots of Jewish pwesents, 'cuz it's Hwannakwah!" she squealed with shrill glee. "Den I can give dem ta Kevin an he'wl wuv me and give me mowe pwesents!"

Andrew sighed in defeat, and handed over a bag containing candles and gelt as Doug and Jenny glared angry red daggers at the blight against nature and life itself. Cera stress-sighed. "Dat's not enufffffff! Mommy and Daddy give me awl dere gifts, so you shouwd too, otherwise you'we gweedy!" Andrew handed the rest of his bags containing his family's gifts and groceries to the fuzzy little freak, while the eyes of his children sank in despair.

"YAY!" Cera declared, hugging the bags even though they were both twice her size. She looked to Jenny and Doug. "Oh! Oh! And I want dere jackets 'cuz dat jacket's pwetty, just wike me!"

It was almost too much for Andrew. "Please…those coats are all my kids have for the winter…"

Cera frowned and sighed, then squeezed her eyes shut and shrieked "DADDEEEEEEEE!" In a flash of yellow fur, Sonichu appeared in front of the family and snapped into a stupid looking battle stance, just as the kids ripped their jackets off and threw them to the fuzzy pink freak.

"What's going on Cera? Are these greedy JEWS trying to be greedy to you?"

Andrew gulped and swallowed his pride. "No….no…just showing some…Christmas cheer."

Sonichu smiled and patted Cera on the head, making her giggle more. "Way to go, Cera! Your new Jewish friends are really showing the true meaning of Christmas, ya know! Giving!"

"Can I please keep my jacket? That was my favorite…" Jenny sniffled.

"Now, that wouldn't be very giving now, would it?" Sonichu chortled, laughing with Cera as she helped her father gather up the poor family's former belongings. "Merry Christmas, Jewish folk!"

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"The Second Day to CWC-mas"

Written by Manajerkop

Sunday, December 14, 2008, excerpt from operative psychological evaluation report log

Interviewer: Wallace, Kathleen Subject: Ledger, Albert

Wallace: Let's focus more on what you've been up to in your spare time, Al. Just name a hobby.

Ledger: See, that's the problem. I've become so obsessed with Hedgeclipper that I can't seem to stop thinking about it…about her. It's her, Kathleen. Those fucking eyes, that mirror, that-

Wallace: Calm down for a minute, Al. There are people out there who would sell their children for a chance to do what your squad's going to do to Sonichu's family. But this obsession with Christine Rosey…what do you think it all stems from? When did you start feeling this anger?

Ledger: *laughs* You mean apart than the first time I laid eyes on her smug little face?

Wallace: Correct. What exactly is it about Christine that drives your obsession?

Ledger: Three words. Narcissistic personality disorder. Only with her, it's not just a disorder, it is her personality. And that's it. From what we've been seeing in our observations, it's just a bunch of mirror pretty mirror play mirror pretty Rosey. Mirror. She's in love with herself. A spoiled little baby is one thing, but a spoiled little baby who thinks she's some kind of unique and special princess messiah because her fur is just a different color? She's not a shiny!

Wallace: But we all know that. You saw the footage from August - Sandy Rosey was, and still is, the only known true shiny Electric Hedgehog Pokémon in existence. No wonder Chandler made Wild evolve her so fast…he didn't want Sandy taking away all of the attention from his precious little 'granddaughter'. And that's why everyone wants Christine dead as much as-

Ledger: No, no, you don't get it. When Hedgeclipper comes, I've got to be the one to take her apart. I'm going to be the one to break her down, to show her what a pretty Rosey she really is.

Wallace: And why is that?

Ledger: You ever get one of those…urges? As in, you felt you were meant for something bigger than anything you ever thought you'd go on to achieve? If this whole thing with Christine is, like you say, an obsession…well, I'm not sorry to say that I'm glad to have this obsession.

Wallace: Given your history of alcoholism, Ledger, this is setting off all sorts of warning bells.

Ledger: So…you're saying I'm addicted to the idea of torturing and killing Christine Rosey?

Wallace: What I'm saying is that you need to take it slow. Let Morrison take out his own anger on some of those Roseys you keep bringing in from the abandoned zone. I spoke with Jexis just earlier this week – she says you've been staying up at night and painting their fur purple while they're still alive. God help us all if you move up to homebreds. For your own sake, Al, lay off.

Ledger: It's…it's just training. For Hedgeclipper. I want to make sure Christine goes through a-

Wallace: You're a Manajerk, Al. You're in charge of a Jerkop squad. You need to stay focused on the present, or all those fears you told me about Morrison are going to come true. You made him what he is, and now you're throwing him out in the cold.

Ledger: It's too late for that, Kathleen. Steve's gone too far past the point of control now. You weren't there…you didn't see what happened to him after Zoey died. August 9th tore something out of him that hasn't grown back yet, and I'm not sure I want to know where this is all going to lead. *pauses* I threw him out in the cold, and he just went ahead and became part of it himself.

Wallace: I'll be sure and bring up that point on Friday. Now tell me about Kevin Shaw, Al.

Ledger: *laughs bitterly* Where do I even begin?

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"The Third Day to CWC-mas"

Written by Manajerkop

Monday, December 15, 2008, west CWCville, AnneWeston Elementary School

Mrs. Lyra Jansen's classroom, like so many of the others throughout AnneWeston Elementary, had been converted to accommodate a mixed-species group of students after the city board of directors and Mayor Chandler had deemed it compulsory for the Electric Hedgehog Pokémon of CWCville to receive their schooling in integrated classes for a "proper educational experience". Prior to the integration, the homebred Sonees and Roseys at AnneWeston had been confined to all of three rooms full of toys, candy, and TVs with Mary Poppins, fully segregated from the human boys and girls so the school's curriculum could continue uninterrupted. The children still had to put up with the hordes of chu larvae at lunch and recess, and for the most part, they begrudgingly tolerated their fuzzy, insipid, self-centered and infuriatingly smug "classmates".

But those days were now long gone.

Because the classroom had been placed under constant surveillance by the EHPF team assigned to protect the school, the poor embattled teacher had been forced to surreptitiously reassign the few human children left in her class to the six or seven desks directly in front of her own, so she could continue to instruct them. Beyond this cluster of actual education lay no-man's-land: another fifty-three tiny desks that were supposed to have held Sonees and Roseys. Supposed to.

In the first days of their educational career, the larval Electric Hedgehog Pokémon had quickly grown tired of having to put the slightest amount of effort into so much hard work, not to mention the fact that they all expected constant praise and rewards for literally doing nothing. Backed up by stern support from the EHPF guards, it didn't take too long for the babies to whine their way into a class period of constant free time, where they could wander around at will and do whatever their little cholesterol-clogged hearts desired. There was nothing that Lyra could do but comply and continue to give the larvae passing grades, lest she provoke the wrath of their parents.

On one hand, the separation of human and chu gave her many opportunities to help each of the boys and girls in her class with their schoolwork, and teach them valuable life lessons while the horde of baby Electric Hedgehog Pokémon played and giggled and waddled around the room.

On the other hand, her career as a teacher had now become a living hell with the addition of Cera Rosey, Christine Rosey, and Robbie Sonee.

"…an den I'm gonna give him dis cookee I made, an he's gonna be sooooo happee 'cuz I made it fow him an itsa cookee in da shape of a candewl 'cuz Kevin's one of da Jewish fowk," Cera babbled incessantly in her shrill twee voice to no one in particular. "Gwampa Chwis says da Jewish fowk awe mean 'cuz wun of dem twied ta ban him fwom da Game Pwace, but he tauwt dat bad twoll a wesson wen he came back fwom vacayshun an destwoyed da nasty Jewkops…"

"Cera," Lyra stated firmly, glancing at the door and the CCTV camera fixed on her desk to remind herself that she was being watched. Otherwise, her attitude toward the Sonichu children would have been much, much more different…not to mention, far more unforgiving of their despicably spoiled, abysmally insensitive behavior towards both her and their human classmates.

There was no response from the little pink Rosey, only more twee-speak about things that only Cera could ever have cared about. Rolling her eyes, the teacher tried her best to shut out the shrill squeals of the baby chus playing around her classroom, and turned instead to her actual students.

"Did anyone finish their homework for today?" she asked sweetly, smiling at the forlorn little group of boys and girls that she knew were suffering just as much as she was. At least she could escape the incessant whining and babbling when the little demons waddled out for recess, but the human kids…those poor, poor kids…always being watched by EHPF guards to make sure they went out of their way to "share" their meager toys and lunches with the greedy larvae, always under the watchful eyes of the CCTV cameras, always cold, always hungry, always scared. If her own husband hadn't been employed as a janitor in AnneWeston Elementary as well, she would have most likely snapped and gone on a suicidal killing spree by now.

The human children obediently raised their hands, all desperately trying to ignore the fuzzy baby chus hugging and tugging at their legs and, in one girl's case, the hem of her skirt. Across the room, a Sonee had managed to climb up onto a bookshelf after several stressful tries, and was now mopping the sweat from its fur with the ripped pages of Curious George. Lyra knew that one of two outcomes would result from this. Either the idiotic baby would attempt to heroically jump down and thus give itself a concussion, or else it would give up, sit down, and start bawling at the top of its lungs until it either passed out or until the EHPF dashed in to punish Lyra for her unspeakable neglect of the poor, helpless little babies.

"Good job, everyone!" she complimented the children, and walked around the desks to collect the sheets of paper. She didn't even bother to ask the chu spawn. Homework and assignments were too stressful for them, and since the city board of directors had mandated nothing less than As for every Sonee and Rosey at AnneWeston Elementary, Lyra had to let their idiocy slide.

"Excuse me?"

Lyra turned toward the door to see a handsome, somewhat rugged-looking young man enter her classroom from the hallway. The newcomer wore a simple enough outfit – jeans and a black hooded sweatshirt – and appeared to have been in his early 20s, chronologically. All in all, he didn't seem too threatening, and was certainly a welcome sight after so much pink and yellow.

"Yes?" she asked, and gave him a polite smile. "Can I help you?"

"You're…Mrs. Jansen, right?" The young man returned the smile and held out a hand. "This is my first day working here…I'm your new TA. My name's Kevin Sh-"

"KEVIN! YAY! You evowved!"

Both Kevin and Lyra turned to see Cera waddling across the room as fast as her pathetic stumpy feet could carry her, stumbling and nearly tripping under her own unbalanced weight. With another shrill squeal of "YAY!" she fastened her armstubs around the Jerkop's leg and adhered herself with static cling, hugging on to Kevin like the world's fattest, ugliest, fuzziest leech.

"Do you two…know each other?" Lyra asked, barely suppressing the disgust in her voice.

"Of…course I know her!" exclaimed Kevin, and hesitantly patted the gleeful Rosey on her soft headspikes. Glancing at the bewildered teacher as Cera snuggled her fat face against his leg, he flashed Lyra a single wink, then turned back to his new friend. "Who doesn't know her? She's the true and honest Cera Rosey! You're such a good little Rosey, aren't you, Cera?"

"YEAH!" cried Cera with immense joy, and detached herself from the Jerkop. "I am happee 'cuz you'we gonna pway wif me an give me pwesents wike dose nice Jewish fowk dat Daddy an I got pwesents fwom! I wuv pwesents! YAY! Do you hawve a pwesent fow meeeeeeeeee?" She stared up at Kevin and looked him directly in the eyes, fixing the operative with a firm, expectant gaze.

"Yes, Cera!" Kevin replied. "I do!" And you'll get it this February, you fuzzy little abomination. Reaching into his pocket, he withdrew a plastic bag of chocolate candy and held it out to the ecstatic Rosey. "I picked it out just for you! It's called Cera Candy!"

"It's cawled Cewah Candee?" exclaimed the baby Electric Hedgehog Pokémon delightedly. "YAY! Dat's my name! I want da Cewah Candee! Gimme da candee NOW NOW NOW!"

"All right, if you say so!" The Jerkop placed the bag on the ground and stepped back as Cera struggled to open it with her fingerless armstubs. Turning to the stunned teacher, he grinned and leaned in toward her ear, then dropped his voice to a whisper. "Was there a Kevin in this class?"

"Yeah," muttered Lyra. "There was. Little Jewish kid, about eight or nine years old."

The two of them stood there in silence, disdainfully watching the greedy Rosey stuff her face with the immense bag of chocolate. Lost in her own world, Cera didn't even bother thanking Kevin for the treat. Why did she need to, after all? She had earned the Cera Candy for being such a responsible Rosey and reminding her friend Kevin that Jewish folk were supposed to give her presents, because it was Christmas! The season of giving!

"Dat Cewah Candee was tastee!" Cera yelled, and waddled over to Kevin's leg again and wiped her chocolate-smeared harelips on his jeans. "Wet's pway a game! I wanna pway dowlhowse!" She tugged at his pants relentlessly, her mouth curled into a smug smile. "I wanna pway NOW!"

"Okay, Cera, let's go play dollhouse," Kevin replied. "Why don't you go get your brother and sister, too! We can play with them, too!"

"Ohhhhhhkaaaaaaaayyyyyyy…" the Rosey sighed impatiently, and waddled off toward the back of the room where her sister Christine was alternating between looking at her little mirror and adjusting her soft headspikes. On her first day with the Sonichu children in her class, Lyra had thought the purple baby chu would be relatively low-maintenance. She seemed content to just not pay attention to anything around her and stare into her mirror or any other reflective surface she could find. But it wasn't enough for her. Christine demanded attention, and thus, she would constantly ask Lyra and the human children, "Do you tink ima pwetty Wosey?" The exchange would always end with the narcissistic infant smirking, explaining that she was a shiny, and that she was the most special and important Rosey ever to walk the earth. To Lyra, it was madness.

Beside the purple Rosey, Robbie Sonee was waddling back and forth to show off the new pair of blue boots that Rosechu had bought for him at the Shopping Center over the weekend. In reality, they were just plain normal-sized plastic sneakers, but the little Sonee had stubbornly refused to accept any evidence to the contrary. Worse, he had brought both pairs of shoes and insisted upon switching sets so that he could waddle around in the snow at recess, which meant that Lyra had to constantly help him in and out of the same pair of the same shoes every single damned day. And since Robbie wasn't even housebroken, this led to an 'accident' nine times out of ten.

"I don't know what you're trying to achieve with this," she muttered to Kevin. "I thought I could handle them on my first day here." She shuddered. "Be prepared, Kevin. Be prepared."

"Don't worry," replied Kevin, and surreptitiously passed her a small maple leaf that had been painted red. "We've been waiting for an opportunity like this for far too long, Mrs. Jansen."

"Can we pway now?" whined Cera, her pudgy face twisted in an annoyed frown as she waddled back up to the Jerkop and began beating her armstubs against his shin. "I wanna pwaaaaaaaaay!"

Kevin knelt and picked her up in both hands, feeling the baby Electric Hedgehog Pokémon's fat beneath the touch of his fingers as he heaved the 25-pound fuzzy blob off the floor. For a single second, Sonichu's smug face flashed through his mind, and he imagined himself squeezing the insipid abomination's torso, tighter and tighter until Cera's ribs splintered and her insides burst out of her mouth and her little body ruptured and crunched like…

"Wat awe you doing?" a whiny, irritatingly shrill voice asked.

Snapping out of his daydream, Kevin looked down to see Robbie and Christine staring up at him. With a playful smile, he placed Cera down between the two baby chus and sat on the floor in front of the Sonichu children, then dragged over a dollhouse for the pink Rosey to play with.

"Do you tink ima pwetty Wosey?" asked Christine, waddling up to the Jerkop and fluffing her headspikes. "I'm da Viwgin Mawee in da pway at schoowl! Dat's my stowee, an I'm sticking-"

"You're playing the Virgin Mary?" Kevin asked with mock astonishment.

"Yeah!" the purple Rosey replied with a smug smile, and crossed her stubs as she stared at the operative through a pair of crystal-blue eyes. "You shouwd know dat by now!"

Kevin bit back the urge to punch the wretched infant in her fat face. "When exactly is this play?"

---

"The Fourth Day to CWC-mas"

Written by Marsmar

Tuesday, December 16, 2008, west CWCville, AnneWeston Elementary School

" During the time of Caesar Augustus," a young boy announced as the lights dimmed and the curtains drew back from the stage to reveal a cardboard manger and a painted backdrop, "in a simple manger, our lord and savior Jesus Christ was born to Joseph and Mary…"

"Dat's me!" squealed Christine, hopping up and down on her stumpfeet with glee and waving an armstub at the audience of humans and chus. "I'm da Viwgin Mawee, an dat's my stowee!"

"He was born in Bethlehem," continued the narrator, irritated by the shrill interruption. "This is the story surrounding his birth." He hurried off the stage as quickly as he could, just as a trio of boys dressed as the three wise men entered from the other side.

"Look at the star up there!" the first one cried, pointing to a large painted star on the backdrop.

"It's right over Bethlehem!" added the second boy in an awestruck voice.

"Wen is it my tuwn?" Christine let out a loud stress-sigh, interrupting the actors once again.

The three wise men hesitated briefly before the first boy continued reciting his lines. "That must be where the King of Kings will be born!"

"We must take these gifts to him!" said the third one in a hurried voice. The children hurried across the stage, passing Christine, who had been standing up front in the spotlight the entire time. She hadn't delivered a single actual line yet, but the Electric Hedgehog Pokémon in the audience were cheering and applauding her every word and action nonetheless. Puffing herself up with pride and accomplishment, the Rosey waddled back and forth joyfully across the stage to even greater adoration from the adult and larval members of her species.

After what seemed like an eternity, another child appeared from stage right, dressed in flowing white robes, cardboard wings with real Pidgey feathers glued on, and a halo made from a glowstick and pipe cleaners.

"Mary, do not be afraid!" the angel announced. "I bring you good news!"

"Why wouwd I be scawed?" Christine asked confusedly.

"I-I bring you good news that will bring joy to the people," continued the boy, bravely holding his own against the Rosey's vacuous stupidity. "Today you will give birth to the savior of-"

"YAY!" squealed Christine, so shrilly that the poor child was forced to cover his ears to avoid being instantly deafened. "I'm gonna be da best mommee evuh, an my bay-bee will be da most adowable bay-bee EVUH! Evewywun wiwl wuv him and wanna give him Fuzzy-Wuzzies!"

"The child will be the Messiah and the Lord," mumbled the angel, giving up with a faint sigh. "This is a sign; your baby will be wrapped in cloth and-"

"Wat ewse wouwd he be wapped in?" asked the baby chu. "An why does da Wo0wd hafta be bown in a stabwle with ugwee fawm Pokémon? He shouwd be bown in a fancee howse 'cuz he's da GodBeawrJeesus!"

"Say your lines," the boy whispered, fighting to keep himself from delivering a harsher threat.

Christine smirked and plunged right into her memorized speech. "My sowl glowifies da Lo0wd an my spiwit weejoices in God my saviowr, fow He has been mindfuw of da humbwle state of His sewvant. Fwom now on, awl genewations wiwl cawl me bwessed, fow da mightee one has done gweat tings fow me – holwee is His name. His mewcee extends ta dose who feaw him, fwom jen-a-way-shun ta jen-a-way-shun. He has pewfowmed mighty deeds wif his awm; he has scattewed dose who awe pwowd in dere inmowst toughts. He has bwought down wulers fwom dere thwones but has wifted up da humbwle. He has fiwwed da hungwee wif good tings but has sent da wich away emptee. He has hewped his sewveant Isweeal, wemembewing ta be mercifuw ta Abwaham an his dee-sen-dants fowever, even as He said ta owr fathewrs."

Beaming with immense self-satisfaction, the purple Rosey waddled forward and performed a dramatic bow, which immediately ended when she lost her balance and toppled forward, saved from injury by her thick layer of baby fat. The hapless angel, now irritated and rushing his lines, simply continued on as Christine flopped around and tried to push herself back upright.

"All glory to the King of Kings!" he recited quickly. "Highest in Heaven and Earth, and peace to those He favors!"

"Wike pwetty Woseys!" added Christine with a smug smile, and waved to the crowd. Wasting no time, the angel beat a hasty retreat, and was replaced by one final actor, a boy playing Joseph. The Rosey kept waving and smiling as her family cheered from the audience, waving to Sonichu and Rosechu while Cera and Robbie smacked their armstubs together and Cera's Jewish friend politely clapped from the seat beside the Sonichu family. When nothing happened, Christine waddled around in a circle and attempted to perform a little dance, but without jointed legs or even any legs to begin with, the pathetic display ended up costing her her balance once again.

Another wave of cheering exploded from the crowd of pink and yellow Electric Hedgehog Pokémon as Christine stumbled back upright, dizzy and disheveled, but reveling in her victory. Just when the child playing Joseph could stand it no longer, a teacher rushed out onto the stage and placed a tiny doll into the Rosey's armstubs. To say that Christine had been unprepared for her 'role of a lifetime' was putting it mildly. In fact, all she had memorized was her speech.

"Wook, Joseph!" she squealed, and held up the prop infant. "An angewl gave me a widdle bay-bee! YAY!" When the doll didn't respond, she let out a stress-sigh and began shaking it up and down rapidly. "Why isn't he sayin anyting? Bay-bee Jeesus? Bay-bee Jeesus, say hewwo!"

"You're not supposed to shake it like that," whispered the boy playing Joseph.

"Don't tewl me wat ta do!" screamed the purple Rosey in a spontaneous fit of tard rage. "I'm da mommee an I want bay-bee Jeesus ta see evewywun, 'cuz he's a WEAL bay-bee Jeesus!"

The child gritted his teeth. "It's not real! It's a pr-"

Chrisine gasped and waddled a few steps back dramatically, then raised her armstub and pointed at her classmate. "JEESUS IS WEAL, YOU TWOLL! MOMMEEEEE! WAAAAHHHHHH!"

"What in GodJesus's name is going on here?!" yelled Rosechu, dashing up onto the stage as her daughter bawled and wailed at a freakishly high volume for something as small and compact as a Rosey. She glared down at the stunned boy, placing a hand on her hip as she raised the other one and wagged a finger back and forth in a 'no-no' gesture. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself, you slander-spreading TROLL! How DARE you question the divine will of your GodJesus!"

"No! No, I…" the child stammered, trembling with fear as Rosechu raised her tailbolt as if to smack him in the face. "I said THAT Jesus isn't real!" He pointed to the prop. "It's a stage prop! She didn't even listen to me!"

"I DID TOO!" shrieked Christine. Her fat face was now turning an even deeper shade of purple. "You'we just a dang afeist! I HATE YOU, YOU DIWTY TWOLL!"

Rosechu let out a dramatic gasp. "Atheism? In AnneWeston Elementary? Drawing herself up to her somewhat-imposing height of five feet, she turned to face the enraged chu audience. "What kind of horrid ideals are our poor, innocent children being exposed to? We DEMAND the truth!" She pointed damningly at the little boy, who by now was shaking with fright, his face streaked with tears. "It is unhealthy, trollish influences like THESE who make this school unsafe for the good little Sonees and Roseys of CWCville!" The pink Electric Hedgehog Pokémon raised a fist in the air. "As it is my GodJesus-given duty as a mother and a housewife, I WILL NOT REST until these SLANDEROUS PRACTICES are removed from this school and destroyed for good!"

The chu audience broke out in thunderous applause, giving Rosechu a standing ovation while the few humans, with the exception of Kevin Shaw, sank down further and further into their chairs.

"Well said, heartsweet!" exclaimed Sonichu, and hurried onto the stage while Kevin placed Cera and Robbie up by Christine's side. By now, the terrified child had fled the scene, no doubt to spend the next few hours in a state of traumatic shock. "Now, as Father tells us, we must learn to forgive those wrong us, and enjoy some Christmas cheer!" He winked at no one in particular.

Kevin collapsed back into his seat as music began playing around the auditorium. The Sonichu family gathered together on the stage, with Sonichu and Rosechu in the back and Christine, Cera, and Robbie lined up at their feet. Raising a small digital camera, he snapped a portrait of the assembled family and smiled in satisfaction as the image appeared on the screen. Perfect.

Befriending Cera and her siblings had only been a start. Now, the path to Sonichu and Rosechu's trust lay ahead, and unless he was very much mistaken, the family would be inviting him along to many, many more events in the future. But all he needed was one chance…a chance to enter 14 Brunchville Lane. If he could get in, the rest of Hedgeclipper would practically sort itself out.

"Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiie-went niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiite!" sang the Sonichu children, their screechy twee voices drowning out any semblance of music that had once existed in the auditorium. "Hoolweeee niiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiite! AAAAWWWL IS CAAAAAAAWWM! AAAAWWWL IS BWIIIIGHT! WOUND DA VIIIIIWGEN MOMMMMMMEEEEE AN CHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIWD…"

Two months. Kevin closed his eyes and smiled, suppressing the pain in his head. Two months.

---

"The Fifth Day to CWC-mas"

Written by Assamite36

Wednesday, December 17, 2008, 9:50 a.m., staff room, CWCville Shopping Center

BANG! Locker #12 slammed as its owner stowed his normal work uniform away, leaving him dressed in long underwear in preparation for his big role in the spotlight. Turning towards the countertop, Kurt Wyczawski took a long hard look at the fluffy red pile of clothes before him. Sighing, he unfurled it and started donning the pants.

"Hey there, jolly ol' Saint Nick!" called a voice from across the room, carried by the acoustics of metal and tile. Surprised and slightly caught off-guard, Kurt fastened his trousers and turned towards the source of the sound – a thin black man wearing a janitor's uniform.

"Ho ho ho, yourself!" he chuckled, trying to get into character. Good old Mitch was always in the mood for some friendly ribbing. Anyone who knew Kurt and his normal job at the mall knew that he was far from a jolly sort of fellow. "Still cleaning up Sonee shit, I see?"

"Aw, c'mon, Kurty-boy. That ain't no way fo' Santa ta talk! Lighten up once in a while, will ya?" Mitch scoffed as he gazed upon the Santa suit. "Boy, am I glad I never had ta do that."

The white man knew full well that it was his own body type that had landed him the role. The fact that the mall's rather pathetic food options had larded him up over the years didn't help, either. However, CWCville needed a fat man to play the Christmas season's most beloved figure, and so there he was, adjusting the fake beard provided by a costume shop. It was a welcome break from fixing broken lights and fountains, but he was still quite uneasy.

"It's not going to be that hard, is it?" Kurt asked. He was middle-aged and divorced, meaning he had extremely limited experience with children, much less his own estranged ones. Being ambivalent about this role was an understatement.

"Nah," Mitch continued. "Just act all...Santa-like. You remember what Santa's like, dontcha? All 'Ho ho ho, Merry Christmas, an' what do you want, li'l boy or li'l girl...' Y'know, Santa!"

"I guess so," nodded the maintenance worker, buttoning up his coat. "Thanks."

"Any time, fat man!" Mitch let out a hearty laugh. "Now get on out there and break a leg!"

"Just remember," Kurt noted. "You're going to have to clean up after I'm done." Content with the last word, he put on his hat and left for the atrium.

10:27 a.m., Atrium, CWCville Shopping Center

An assortment of families took their place in line behind a velvet rope at the mall's Christmas display. The exhibit's centerpiece was a twelve-foot tall plastic tree covered in ball ornaments and tinsel, but that was not what they were there to see. Situated right next to the fake Douglas fir was a wooden chair furnished with bright red velvet, with exposed wooden parts painted in gold. It would soon be occupied by Santa Claus, who would then have children sit in his lap and make their holiday requests. Behind the throne was a festive arch, hiding a little booth covered by a red curtain. It was behind this curtain where Kurt sat, ready to spring forward on cue. The exhibit's attendants, dressed as elves, were scurrying around frantically, attempting to keep order before the big reveal.

Inside the booth, Kurt sat in a nondescript chair, fully decked out in the Santa outfit. Another member of the mall's staff stood right next to him, still dressed in his gray uniform.

"The cue's about to come soon, Kurt. 10:30 on the dot, and you're not gonna be Kurt anymore. You're gonna be Santa Claus. Now, you know the cue, right? And the line, too?"

"Yes and yes," affirmed Kurt, nodding with each answer. He had been given less than an hour to rehearse his parts, but they were simple enough to at least not butcher at the moment of truth.

"Good to know," the attendant remarked confidently.

As if on cue, the loudspeakers blared on, broadcasting a message that could even be heard from within the booth.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, Girls and Boys, and Dudes of all Teenages, as well as Da Gals... welcome to a ring-ting-ting-a-ling Christmas at CWCville Mall!" Kurt recognized the voice as belonging to CWCville's only radio announcer, Jamsta. He could see his attendant cringe.

"Now, this rootin'-tootin' celebration couldn't have been possible without the hard work of our Mayor, da one and only Christopher Christian 'Ricardo' Weston Chandler, who - by the way, ladies - is STILL girlfriend-free!" The line was expected to bring uproarious applause. It failed miserably. "We've got all sorts of tinsel-y and winter-y celebration for every one of y'all out there, even the Jews and Buddhists! Now, without further adieu, da star of our show, da one and only... Kris Kringle, Father Christmas, Jolly Saint Nick, it's…SANTA CLAUS!"

"Go! Get out there!" commanded the attendant. Kurt did not need a second encouragement. He burst out from behind the curtains, arms wide open in greeting.

"Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas, and good tidings to all!" Kurt bellowed out the words in his best Santa voice. He was pleasantly surprised at how comfortably he fit into the role. "Now, boys and girls, come sit down and ask Santa what you'd like for Christmas!" With that, he took his place on the plush throne, and patiently awaited the first child.

An "elf" unhooked the rope from its post, allowing the first family to come forward and make their requests. They were a mother and son, dressed in faded clothes too large for either of them. The boy, appearing about seven years old, stepped forward at the behest of his mother. He still looked uneasy.

Kurt felt it necessary to give the child a few words of encouragement. "Come on, don't be shy! What's your name, little boy?"

"Hey Santa…I'm William, but my mom and my friends all call me Billy."

"Ho ho ho, Billy! I like that name. Now why don't you come over here and tell me what you'd like?"

Comforted by Kurt's Santa voice, Billy went ahead and sat on his lap. Still, he hung his head low.

"Aww, why don't you show a little spirit? You've been a good boy this year, haven't you?"

"Yes, Santa... I try and try to be good, but no matter how hard I try…me, Mom, and Jenny are still stuck in that stupid Soup Hotel."

Upon hearing that, Kurt's heart sank. He knew very well of CWCville's immense homeless problem, but he had no idea of its impact on children until then. Still, he kept up the act.

"Chin up, Billy!" he said kindly. "It's never a good time to stop hoping for a miracle! I'm sure that things will turn out better for you and your family!" And for all the rest of us. "So what can Santa do for you? What kind of presents do you want for Christmas?"

"Well... I'd like the whole Harry Potter book collection." The fantasy novel series, beloved by so many around the world, was banned in CWCville due to the mayor's perception of it being a rival to Pokémon. Kurt was especially touched by the fact that the boy had sought out literature, instead of more material toys.

"Wonderful, Billy! I'll see to it that you get your collection." Of course, as a mere mall Santa, he had no power to do so, but the role called for making empty promises such as that one. "Anything else?"

"Well, Santa," Billy mused, "my sister Jenny couldn't make it today 'cause she's sick in the hospital. She'd like a hat to cover her head, 'cause she lost all her hair."

The dreaded C-word, thought Kurt. "Oh, I'll get her that and so much more! Let's all hope she gets better."

"Thanks, Santa," replied Billy, finally lifting his chin. "You're the greatest."

"Oh, ho ho ho! Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you, Billy! Now before you leave, would you and your mommy like a picture?" Kurt inquired.

"Okay, Santa."

Having approval from the child, Kurt turned his head towards Billy's mother, who nodded in approval. He then turned towards the camera crew. "All right, my little helpers! You heard him!" The crew obeyed, getting into position as both Santa and child looked at the camera. A flash later, Kurt sent the boy on his way back to his mother.

The "elves" sent up the second family from behind the ropes, a family of four. They seemed to be in slightly better spirits, which was not saying much. Their appearance as a complete nuclear family of two parents and two children also assured the mall Santa. Without delay, Kurt invited both children, an eight year-old boy and a five year-old girl, to his side.

"Ho ho ho, little kids! Why don't you tell me your names?"

"I'm Shana," answered the girl with a bright smile.

"Toby," replied the boy, a tad blandly.

"Well, why don't you two come on over? There's room on my lap for both of you!" Actually, Kurt was not sure if he could bear the combined weight of two children. He merely wanted to expedite the process and serve both of them at once. Sure enough, their weight bore down on his thighs, though it was nothing harder than lifting heavy equipment.

"So, Shana, Toby," Kurt began, "have you two been good this year?"

"Yeah, Santa!" said Shana, still smiling. "Well, I was. I don't know about Toby, though." This elicited a glare from her older brother.

"I was SO!" Toby retorted, leaning towards his sister threateningly.

Kurt merely laughed at the sass and sibling rivalry. "Oh ho ho HO! Now now, settle down, you two! I'm sure you've both been very good children. Now, why don't you tell Santa what you'd like for Christmas?"

"Let me do it first," insisted Toby, still locked in rivalry mode. "Santa, I'm not gonna ask for much. I just want new shoes for all of us."

Kurt was puzzled why Toby chose such a bland request. Why only "new shoes"? Why not "a pair of Air Jordans", or "cleats"? Then he brought his attention to the children's feet, which answered his question. They were wearing worn out and torn up sneakers, discolored by presumably many years of use. Kurt was sure that Toby's were two sizes too small. Looking at their parents, Kurt could see that their feet were similarly adorned.

"Oh ho ho, we'll have to do something about that, now won't we?" Kurt punctuated his remark with a wink. He was unsure if dry humor like that was part of Santa's personality, but Toby seemed to appreciate it with a masked chuckle. "And you, Shana?"

"I wanna have a big dinner, with turkey, cranberry sauce, and yams, and pie, and..." As the girl counted off the dishes in her ideal banquet, Kurt noticed how skinny she was. Indeed, so was her brother. As a matter of fact, the whole family was emaciated, their condition hidden only by layers of wintry clothes. Par for the course in CWCville.

"... 'cause we didn't get to have Thanksgiving." At this point, Shana's face turned to disappointment, a stark contrast to her mood up until then. Kurt was likewise disheartened, but not in the least surprised. Shana then bounced right back into her previous cheery demeanor "So I want Christmas dinner to be double, to make up for it!"

"Aww... I'll tell you what," Kurt proposed. "Come with your family to your nearest Soup Hotel, and I'll provide you with all the turkey and pie you want!" Worth a shot.

"But my daddy doesn't like the Soup Hotels," remarked Shana. To confirm this, Kurt looked past her towards her father, who only nodded profusely with a look of fear on his face. And who could blame him? The Soup Hotels were not only home to many unsavory types, but also infamously infested with feral chu larvae. Poor bastard must be pouring all of his paycheck into rent, Kurt thought, under the assumption that the man actually had a job.

"Well... I guess I'll just have to drop a turkey dinner down the chimney, won't I?" Kurt jested, having surrendered all hope for helping the girl's family. Now, would you like a picture?"

11:41 a.m, Atrium, CWCville Shopping Center

".. and I want a model Jerkop Battle Bus, too!"

Such was the final request of the boy that was sitting on Kurt's lap at the moment. That caused the mall Santa to do a double take. It was true that the escapades of the PVCC squadron were renowned in the human community of CWCville, although to laud them as out in the open as the boy just did was still rather taboo under the watch of the police state. Still, he could not help but admire the boy's naïve bluntness.

Forcing out a chuckle, Kurt dismissed the request in an effort to diffuse attention. "Oh ho ho, silly boy! I'm sure that they don't make Battle Bus models!" Then, leaning into the boy's ear, he whispered, "But I'm sure I can get my elves to work on one."

"Really?!" asked the boy, his eyes wide with astonishment and hope. Kurt's response was only to wink and put a finger to his lips in the universal gesture requesting silence. Understanding the cue, the boy expressed his jubilation only to himself. Sending the boy off on his way after a complimentary photo, Kurt pondered on just how far he had come along. Within one hour, he had adjusted to the role of a mall Santa quite well. During this short period, he had met a fair amount of lower-class CWCville children, each with their own horror stories, as well as varyingly positive attitudes in spite of them. One of the children that she saw had lost her best friend to Chandler's "Nanny Program" in the past year. Recounting the loss brought her to tears, and Kurt could not help but offer some sniffles of his own. Sadly, he was completely powerless in granting her wish. He shuddered to think of what was being done to the kidnapped children, snatched in plain sight from the grips of loving parents, only to be replaced by diminutive pseudo-children.

Almost as if on cue, his thoughts were interrupted by a voice that was way too high-pitched for a human to tolerate.

"SANNA!"

Cringing, Kurt turned towards the source of the sound. In the distance, he saw a chu couple clad in Christmastime wear, overseeing their multicolored litter. One of the Roseys was bouncing up and down, hurriedly waving an armstub in his direction. The Electric Hedgehog Pokémon had finally arrived at the mall. Upon hearing the Rosey's shriek, many other larvae turned their heads towards Kurt with eerie simultaneity. Soon, the mall was filled with shrill exclamations vaguely resembling the name of the character that he was playing. The humans were all covering their ears, the aural assault too painful for them to stand. Even then, that was not the worst to come.

The squeaks were soon accompanied by the pitter-patter of baby recolors attempting to run towards the center of the mall. Naturally, their lack of coordination caused them to trip many times, sometimes over each other, but with some help from their parents, they were able to make their way to the Christmas display.

When chu clashed with human, nothing could look good for the latter. When the first plastic sneaker touched the red carpet, the hapless humans huddled together for safety. As was well known, although the infants were pathetic weaklings individually, they were deadly in large numbers. And although homebred Sonees and Roseys had none of the fighting instincts of their feral cousins, the humans were not taking any chances.

Soon, the swarm was all over the atrium, with all of the decorum expected of stampeding Electric Hedgehog Pokemon. One little girl found herself unable to bear the onslaught of the little monsters, and was pushed off-balance by a couple of Sonees; a costumed mall employee was able to rescue her quickly from a more grim fate. Placed among the festive decorations were a Hanukkah menorah and a gold statue of Budai (undoubtedly mistaken by Chandler for Buddha), both included by the mayor's administration as a token gesture to CWCville's religious minorities; they, too, received the amount of respect that was accorded to them when several of his "grandchildren" knocked them to the ground and trampled all over them. After all, why should an item belonging JEWS get in the way of Santa?

In the middle of the chaos, Kurt tried desperately to seek a solution. These were Sonees and Roseys raised in homes, and yet they were acting like ferals in the abandoned zone! Surely, something could be done to make them behave in that artificially sweet way of theirs.

Then it occurred to him.

"HO, HO, HO!" he bellowed as loud as he could, trying to catch their attention. All of the larvae stopped in their tracks to hear what Santa had to say.

"Now, there's no need to rush there, little babies, is there? I promise each and every one of you that you'll get your presents! But only if you behave and stand in line! You can make friends with those Sonees and Roseys next to you!"

That was enough for the homebreds. The dual prospects of getting presents and playing with friends got them to obey Santa's call. One by one, litter by litter, the toddlers stood in a neat queue, their parents catching up with them. As they bunched together, Kurt did a quick estimate of just how many were there. A stark contrast from when they were a mob, where they illusorily appeared voluminous, the infant chus probably numbered no more than fifty in reality.

That's still way too damn many, remarked Kurt to himself.

The momentary orderliness of the chus gave the attendants ample opportunity to corral them behind a velvet rope. Just for good measure, they pulled out plastic rope and placed it at shin level. Unfortunately for those of the human species, they were unceremoniously shunted aside. Those who had been slated to have a session with Santa could only watch helplessly as the chus took their place in line. The scrunched look of misery on a little girl's face told Kurt everything.

As the elves struggled to keep the furballs behind the makeshift barrier, Kurt dreaded the moment that the first chu would come to sit on his lap. Still, knowing that the pseudo-children were bound to get restless, he girded his loins and made the first call.

"Ho ho ho, could the first family come up?"

Having vocal permission to come forth across the threshold, the litter took it as an entitlement to rush to Santa with wild abandon. One of the Sonees, a rather generic yellow one, managed to make his way all the way to the foot of Santa's throne before falling flat on his face, typical of his kind. Before Kurt knew it, armstubs were batting his boot-covered shins, their owners vainly attempting to climb up his lap.

"I wanna tewl Sanna wat I want fiwst!" bawled a pink Rosey, the largest of the bunch.

"No, I wanna! I got here fiwst!" retorted a slightly smaller Sonee, who in fact did not get there first.

Surely, Kurt was in for a treat. At long last, the brood was finally assisted up his lap by their parents, who did not even bother to do as little as make eye contact. Kurt rather preferred it that way, as the adult chus' mono-eyes unnerved him to no end. Suddenly, he felt a crushing weight on his thighs - odd, considering that there were only three of them: one Rosey and two Sonees. Must weigh at least twenty-five pounds apiece, he thought. Accompanied by the heavy pressure was a screeching cry of "YAY!", the three larvae having finally accomplished their goal.

"OOF!" Kurt grunted reflexively. "You sure are getting big, kids, aren't you?"

Not understanding the subtext, the larger of the Sonees nodded enthusiastically in response. "Yuh-huh! An I'm gwowing so fast, wun day, I'wl be as fast an stwong as Daddy!" It was a rather expected response of his species.

"Nuh-uh!" his brother, the one that tripped so cluse to Kurt's ankles, fired back. "I'm gonna be da fast wun fiwst!" Amidst this fraternal war of words, Kurt glanced up at the Sonees' father, who could only look on with a smile of fatherly pride. Keeping his reaction to himself, Kurt looked back down and tried to do the most diplomatic thing he could - reward neither of them.

Turning towards their sister, who had been fidgeting and whimpering all along, he asked, "So, little girl, what's your-"

"I wanna Bawbie Jeep, a new dowlhowse fow my dowlwey Soozy, an a Easy-Bayke Ovwen, an da whowe cowwekshun of My Widdwe..." Before Kurt could even ask her name, let alone whether or not she has behaved over the past year, the Rosey fired off her litany of a Christmas list. Overwhelmed, the mall Santa could only sit back and pretend to listen, playing his part well.

"...an da new WiddweBigPwanit wif awl da downwoad wevewls an costumes an stuff!"

"My, my, that's quite a lot to ask for Santa, isn't it?" Once again, the hidden meaning of Kurt's rhetorical question was too implicit for their primitive minds to grasp.

"Yup! An' I wan' dem AWL in a biiiiig bawx wif wed wapping paypew an' a gowld bow!"

Kurt merely gave a token acknowledgement to her oddly specific demands about packaging, before moving on to the brother at her left.

"MY TUWN!" yelled the other brother, too selfish to bother with patience. "I wanna wayce-cawr fwom Matchbawx, wif a Dewuxe Twack, an da new Indiana Jownes Wego Pwayset-"

"No, I wanna new Indiana Jownes Wego Pwayset!" the other Sonee butted in.

Kurt quickly spout out the first diplomatic response he could think of in order to defuse the fomenting dispute. "Okay, you can BOTH have the playset, ho ho ho!" And have your tax-leeching dad pay for them.

"YAY!" the two shrieked in unison, their conflict resolved for the moment. The interrupted Sonee proceeded with the rest of his list, but to Kurt, it all seemed like a blur of gender-appropriate toys. When he finished after Arceus knew how long, the last of the babies started his list immediately without prompting from the mall Santa. As before, Kurt found himself tuning out most of the list, hearing only bits and pieces such as "twain" and "Powew Waynja".

"...an a shuvewl fow da sanbawx, too!" Thus concluded the Christmas lists of the first chu family... out of scores more. Kurt prayed to Arceus for the strength to endure all of them.

"Ho ho ho! That's a pretty nice list for kind little Sonees and a kind little Rosey like you," Kurt lied, "but how am I going to send all these wonderful little presents if I don't know your names?" Truth be told, he was not interested in knowing them at all, but he felt that he had to offer this token gesture, lest the brood's parents disapprove.

The Rosey took the initiative to answer on behalf of them all. "My nayme is Annie Wosey, an I'm da owdest," she announced smugly, thumping her rotund gut with an armstub. "An dis is Buwt Sonee an Petey Sonee," she continued, gesturing to them both. "An we wiv on Fowty-Fouw Frankwin Stweet; dat's da bwoo howse, so get it wite!" The Rosey, whose name Kurt did not even bother to remember, recounted her address speedily, wanting to ensure that Santa would not err on this delivery of utmost importance. "Now, PICSHUWE!"

FINALLY, it's gonna be over, Kurt sighed, unnoticed by the imps on his lap. The brats turned their heads towards the camera simultaneously, flashing their trademark wide-eyed stare and visibly creeping out the cameraman.

"Say cheese," uttered the operator, not even looking at his subjects. A flash later, the furballs leapt off of Kurt's lap joyously with a final "YAY!" as they joined their parents to have some more family-oriented fun throughout the rest of the mall.

Meanwhile, Kurt inhaled a deep breath of relief as blood rushed back to his pained lap. Massaging his thighs with gloved hands, he managed to clean off a not insignificant amount of pink and yellow hairs, molted by the larvae that had just left. Shuddering in disgust, he looked up towards the next batch. The attendant had given up on keeping them behind the ropes, going ahead and sending them forth without warning.

Here goes...

12:04 p.m., Atrium, CWCville Shopping Center

".. an I wanna Staw Waws Cwone Waws Cwone Twanspowt Ship, wif fifty cwones inside!"

With that, the last of five in a brood had finished his Christmas list. This litter was not only the most demanding, but also collectively the heaviest. Being unable to fit fully into Kurt's lap, the obese furballs had migrated towards his gut, restricting his breathing.

"Oh -huff- okay, boys and girls! -gasp- I'll ask my elves what to do. Now can you let Santa -oof- have some room to breathe?"

"NO WAY! Sanna, we wanna picshuwe fiwst!" demanded the middle larva, a Rosey.

Christ on a cracker.

The attendant obediently snapped his camera. The resulting image showed that Santa was not exactly in the mood to be there. In fact, upon examination of the photos taken since the arrival of the chus, Kurt appeared increasingly depressed. After eight families, the last photo depicted a torture victim in a red suit and a fake beard.

"YAY!" The larvae leapt off his lap, the Roseys opening their skirtachutes on the way down. As soon as they went into the air off his body, Kurt inhaled a deep gulp of sorely-needed oxygen, kicking his legs in sheer relief. Normally, it would not be expected of Santa to act so undignified, but he had lost his dignity long ago to the first batch of baby recolors. Working the blood flow back to his lap, he peered ahead at the next batch to which he would become victim. Good, there's only three of them, he thought, certainly nothing as monumental as listening to the demands of five Sonees and Roseys. Then he took a closer look.

Oh no... One Sonee, wearing nothing but standard-issue blue shoes, was flanked by two Roseys: One the normal pink... and the other, a shade of purple found in cheap marker boxes. The latter was staring straight into a small hand mirror, a telltale sign of what Kurt was looking at. Oh no, oh no, oh no no no... He attempted to deny it, but the fact of the matter was that he was going to encounter the First Family of Electric Hedgehog Pokémon very soon.

As soon as Kurt's eyes hit the pink Rosey, he was met with a wide-eyed glare that was, at the same time, both staring off into space and directed straight at him. True, it was the trademark stare of all hedgehog larvae, but for some reason it was much creepier coming out of this one. The Rosey continued to stare at the mall Santa, as if awaiting some kind of response. His only response was to break eye contact and look nervous. Kurt redirected his eyesight upwards to meet the babies' guardian - a short-haired Latina of stocky build, wearing a magenta sweatshirt and loose grey sweatpants. Lady's got the hardest job in the world, he thought. She had to look after the brats 24/7, while he hopefully only had to deal with them for five minutes at most. That gave him an assuring sense of perspective.

Any assurance was wiped away as soon as the attendant unhooked the ankle-height rope, while mouthing Arceus help you towards Kurt. With a predictable unison cry of "YAY!", the gaudy-colored spawn waddled towards Santa's throne at a steady pace. That was, except for the Sonee, who began to accelerate two steps into his journey, falling flat on his face not even two steps afterwards. Righting himself with shocking ease, the Sonee resumed his journey, attempting to catch up with and eventually outrun his sisters. Naturally, he resumed his routine of run, trip, fall, get up, and run again. Obviously, he had never been taught the fable of the Tortoise and the Hare. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity to Kurt, all three hoglets reached their destination. The Sonee, which Kurt presumed to be Robbie, was batting feverishly at his shins - not in an attempt to climb, but in order to demand something of Santa. The pink Rosey, which Kurt deduced was Cera, was the first to speak, vocalizing her brother's wishes for him.

"Wet us up, Sanna!" she screeched, bouncing up and down. The purple Rosey, who was the notorious Christine, merely stood there silently as she stared right back at her hand mirror. It was patently obvious that not one of these babies was going to give an ounce of effort to achieve their goal, preferring instead to wait for an adult to help them. This suited Kurt just fine, as he did not want to waste any of his strength handling the larvae, although he wondered how long this standoff would last.

Adult help eventually did arrive in the form of the nanny coming up and lifting them all in one fell swoop, a feat to which she was obviously no stranger. Kurt wanted to protest, but realizing her daily situation stopped him from doing so. Thus, he resigned himself to allowing her to place the babies onto his lap. The three shrieked their victory cry of "YAY!", then proceeded to bounce up and down, putting potentially injurious torture upon his femurs.

"Ho ho ho, little children! What are your names?" Kurt asked in character, immediately regretting it afterwards.

"You shouwd know us by now!" Cera squealed. "I'm Cewa Wosey, an dis is Chwistine Wosey!"

"An' I'm Wobbie Sonee!" the Sonee burst out, raising his armstubs in joy. Kurt felt something warm trickling down his leg, accompanied by an acrid odor. The spot on his costume around where Robbie was sitting began to turn dark, confirming his fears. It took every fiber of his being not to go ballistic on the un-housebroken turd.

The last of the Sonichu children had yet to speak, preferring to keep her glassy blue eyes locked on her reflection. Without prompting, she turned her gaze towards Santa, asking the question that was obviously on everyone's mind. "Do you tink ima pwetty Wosey?"

Urban legend had it that no human who heard that utterance had escaped with his or her sanity. Kurt was determined not to make himself proof of that. "Ho, ho, ho! Of course I do, Christine!" The lie was blatant to all who were not Electric Hedgehog Pokémon. However, for the Rosey, it was all the confirmation that she needed. After all, Santa had visited Roseys all over the world, and only she alone had the distinction of being called pretty - the prettiest one of all.

"It's 'cuz ima SHINY Wosey!" she stated in knowing glee. Kurt, however, knew otherwise. He had seen several purple Roseys during his tenure as Santa, and not one of them claimed that they were "shiny". Having a parent colored purple probably helped in that regard.

Picking up where his sister had left off, Robbie continued, "Owr daddy is da owiginaw Sawnichoo, an he's da fastewst ting in da wowld! Wun day, I'wl be as fass as Daddy, even dough I twip a wot." Robbie's harelipped grin turned into a frown in order to punctuate that statement, as if the complete stranger behind the Santa suit could even give two shits about it.

"Ho, ho! Of course you'll be as fast as him - maybe faster!" Kurt lied. He found that he could say the words with a straight face by thinking of the stunted baby as an actual Olympic track star.

Robbie continued, "So did is wat I wan' fow Chwissmas, Sanna!" Kurt was partially thankful that this was moving along. "I want wotsa candee in my stawking, and maybe da noo Wii Owympic gayme wif Unca Sawnic. OOH! An' I wan' da big Wegow Poweece Stayshun Set, wike I wote in my wetter!" The last statement baffled the mall Santa, who wondered if the toddler could even read at all. As Robbie's face contorted into one of deep thought, a task too Sisyphean for his stunted brain, Kurt genuinely felt surprise at how brief the list was.

Before he could turn to the next crotchfruit of Rosechu's, though, he was preempted by Robbie, who was apparently done with all that thinking. "OOH! An I want Ewebits fow da Nintendow DS, an' Animaw Cwossing fow da Nintendow Wii, wif da Wii Speek, an' sum noo wunnin shoos, cuz my owd wuns awe getting bwoken an' diwtee. Noo shoos! YAY!" Robbie stretched his harelip mouth so wide that its shape was soon reminiscent of several types of Klingon ceremonial blades. Kurt took a cursory glance at Robbie's feet, and sure enough, his plastic shoes had not the slightest indication of wear or dirt.

"Okay, now what do YOU want?" he growled at Cera, quite uncharacteristic of Santa. His veneer of patience was quickly decaying, and he was doing whatever he could to end it quickly.

"Sanna, I wan' sum cookee cuttews wif da howiday shaypes, an a wollwing pin. An I wanna fwying pan, 'cuz ima big giwl now." The Rosey stopped then and there, making Kurt wonder if she would continue with an outlandishly long list of domestic implements. When she did not, he shrugged and moved on to the last of Sonichu's brood.

Christine was still marveling at how stunningly beautiful she was, so Kurt repeatedly calling her to attention had failed to move her at all. Only after the mall Santa literally prodded her did she break out of her trance and snap back to reality. She turned to face Santa, who was at long last putting her at the center of attention.

"And what would you like for Christmas?" Kurt had a strong feeling what it was going to be.

"I want wotsa pwetty dwesses; sum spawkwee, a bwoo wun an a wed wun an a pink wun, an a puwple wun wike my shiny fuw, an pwetty bows ta attach dem! An I want da Pwetty Puwfect Pwincess maykeup kit, wif big eyewashes, an pwus I wanna no-fowg maykeup miwwor fow da bafwoom, an a miwwor fow da fwunt doow, an a miwwor fow da kitchin, an a miwwor fow my dowl howse, an ten mowe miwwors ta cawwy awownd..."

Listening to that list caused something to snap within the beleaguered maintenance worker. However, it simply was not within his personality to explode. Instead, he gathered his composure and vented in a manner consistent with his character.

"Ho, ho, ho! Those are many many presents! I'm not sure if my workshop elves can handle such a load!" Kurt chortled, and the three fuzzballs only looked at him, wide-eyed with horror.

"Anyway," he continued quickly. "Those kinds of presents are for good children." He proceeded to ask what he had never dared to ask any other chu. "So…have you been good this year?"

"Wat?" asked Robbie, a confused look on his face. Where had this crazy question come from?

"Well, I have a list of all the good and bad little children in the world," Kurt expounded, being as dramatic as he could manage, "and I have to find out who's been a nice child, or a naughty child. "Children who are kind to their friends and respectful of their elders get lots and lots of presents! But..." His brow furrowed to emphasize his counterpoint. "Children who never do nice favors for their friends, or are mean to them, or talk back to their parents and never do what they say-"

"Dose awe twolls!" interjected Cera with a frown, shaking her armstub at the unseen enemy.

Kurt's eye twitched slightly, just imperceptibly. "They are naughty children, and they don't get presents. All they get is a lump of coal in their stocking. So... have you been naughty or nice?"

Even a wicked child with a modicum of wit would have answered "nice". However, the idea of rewarding moral behavior was absolutely foreign to the spoiled-rotten baby chus, whose parents simply gave them what they wanted whenever they asked. Mommy and Daddy and Grandpa gave them presents because they were three wonderful little angels who blessed the lives of the world with their every word and action. So why wouldn't Santa? The concept of a benevolent figure who sought something in exchange for gifts gave them too much Prickly-Wicklies to bear.

"W…W…W…WAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" The trio of larvae did what they could only do in that kind of situation, and in that moment, Kurt just then realized how bad the consequences of his little act of rebellion could get. Tears flowed down (and cartoonishly outward) from their reptilian eyes as they screamed their overpowered lungs out in an aural caricature of how babies actually cry. Kurt considered retracting his statement and apologizing, but by then it was too late.

"What the heavy metal rock band?!" A voice familiar to all the residents of CWCville rang out. The opposite of "YAY!" had reached the original copyrighted Sonichu's elongated ears, and within a split second he had arrived on the scene, carrying his wife in his arms. As his spawn continued to bawl, Sonichu looked sternly at the mall Santa. "What did you do to my kids?!"

Kurt had a feeling that this would not end well, but nonetheless he answered nonchalantly, reverting to his own voice, "Well, I was simply teaching them how Santa works -"

"You're giving him STRESS, that's what." As Rosechu dismounted, simply nodding with an angry expression, Sonichu leaned forward and put his hands on his hips in a vaguely feminine pose. He continued, "And NO ONE gives my little angels stress! The Mexican HOMO learned that long ago!" He firmly pointed a finger at the caretaker from before, who simply shook her head and muttered inaudible Spanish curses.

Sonichu continued to give Kurt the lecture of his life. "You're a danged dirty TROLL who must be stopped; the consequences will never be the same! I'm getting Father!"

"Yeah!" Rosechu assented with a single word. With that, her husband shot off towards the Mayor's office in a dash of yellow. She then bent over to collect her hatchlings, offering them words of consolation.

"Aww, don't cry, my little babies! Mommy's here!" She pulled each child off of Kurt's lap and placed them on the ground. As Kurt tended to his legs, she cooed, "Don't y'all worry; Daddy's getting Grandpa, and soon he'll take care of everything!" Forgetting the emotional strain that they just underwent, the three flipped their happy/sad switches and shrieked another piercing "YAY!" as their shattered Heart Levels were instantly restored to 100%. The confirmation of her children's happiness gave their mother a chance to direct her attention to the man in the red suit.

"Just you wait, 'Santa'!" she cried dramatically. "My hubby-bolt will be back soon with Father, and soon you will understand the full might of their Electric Hedgehog power!"

It had occurred to Kurt that the threat of reprisal was more than genuine, but he still wondered about the severity of his punishment. After all, summary executions were commonplace in this dystopic metropolis. Would the mayor be cruel enough to end his life on the spot, in front of all those children and homebred larvae? Like all beings aware of their mortality, Kurt's breath shortened and his heart accelerated.

Just then, two blurs, one yellow and the other blue, dashed into his field of view. They skidded to a halt, and Kurt realized that Sonichu came back with a recolored version of himself. The latter pressed the white patch of fur on his chest shaped like his own head, and in a flash an obese man in thick glasses and a striped shirt materialized.

"There he is, Father!" Sonichu shouted, pointing an accusing finger straight at Kurt. "That's the dang troll Santa Claus who made my little partner and my little princess and Cera so stressed!"

"What in tha name of God an' tha Bear do ya think you are doing?" The voice that emerged was agitated, nasal, and high-pitched - the Mayor's "angry voice", known by all who had heard his periodical Captain's Logs, wherein he often railed against the innumerable enemies of the state.

"Mr. Mayor, if you'd let me explain…"

"Mister Mall Santa Fred Brinkley," the Mayor addressed Kurt, extremely sure that 'Fred Brinkley' was his employee's name and nothing less, "Do…d'ya know what you were task, uh, what you were made ta do? You have a VERY important role as tha Santa for CWCville Mall."

No shit, thought Kurt. "Mayor, my name is K-"

"I was not…I was not finished SPEECHING!" snapped Chandler. "You, Fred, you are a Mall Santa. And as y'all know, ALL Mall Santas play an imp…have a role in tha Christmas miracle of tha REAL Santa in tha North Pole! So, uh, dey all have a sike-ick link, with tha hub starting from tha North Pole, and linking ta different places. And CWCville is hap…proudly on tha East Coast, Virginia, sike-ik server!" The Mayor flashed a thumbs-up, directed at his mixed audience. Kurt quickly took the opportunity to examine his surroundings. All around, the chu species were loudly applauding their creator, while the humans stared, dumbfounded. Even the larvae were cheering shrilly, blissfully unaware that their red-suited saint had just been exposed as a fake.

The Mayor's victory speech continued. "An' it is tha every- tha job of EVERY man on dis link to, uh, hear tha wishes an' lists, to re- uh, send dem sike-ick-ally over tha network ta Santa Claus. 'Cause Santa can't hear ALL tha wishes of tha ten billion children roun' tha world, so he trusts Mall Santas ta do dat job."

The Mayor's hand formed into his trademark threatening claw. "But YOU, Fred Brinkley, you... you VI-YO-LAY-TED dat trust. You were CRUEL, and UNHELPFUL, to tha kids, ta Sonichu's kids, MY GRANDKIDS, an' now dere Chrissmas wishes won't get heard by tha Real Santa. Dat is a CRIME, and you wi- you shall now suffer!"

Here it comes. Kurt shut his eyes and gritted his teeth, preparing to accept his final fate.

"As, as tha Mayor of CWCville an' owner of dis fine essablishment, I hereby BANISH you from CWCville Mall, never ta step inside again! YOU'RE FIRED!" The Mayor pointed his finger straight at Kurt in a passable imitation of a certain business mogul.

I'm done for- wait, WHAT?! Kurt was expecting never to open his eyes again, but there was a Christmas miracle, and he got off with a lighter sentence. Still, Chandler banning someone from the grounds of the mall seemed a bit odd to Kurt for some reason.

"So..." Chandler concluded on a lighter mood, "pack, uh, pack your stuff in a box... an' clear your cubicle by tomorrow. Y'all have a safe day an' stay STRAIGHT! Peace!"

"I don't work from a cubicle, Mister Mayor," Kurt stated sternly, gazing directly into Chandler's creepily-staring eyes as he ripped off his beard and hat and hurled them away in disgust. This did not register as an insult to the Mayor, so he did not feel that it warranted a harsher sentence.

As Kurt stomped off in his soiled red suit, it finally dawned on the Sonees and Roseys that Santa was no longer there. The beginnings of a collective mass wail were brewing, and the Mayor, knowing the emotional gauge of his creations despite his mental blocks and ignorant nature, quickly tried to preempt it. "Don'cha worry, Sonees and Roseys! I'm da Grandpa Mayor of dis here mall, and if Santa ain't gonna help y'all get y'all's presents, den I'LL get 'em fer y'all!"

At this, the "YAY!" to end all "YAY!"s exploded from the larval audience.

Kurt strolled through the throng of human families as this was going on. There would be no cries of joy for these children. The only way for their wishes to be fulfilled was for the Mayor to think about anything but his insipid creations. Truth be told, he was a bit glad to be away from a place where the chus constantly prowled…but this was his place of employment, and the only thing keeping him from falling into poverty, just like so many of the children he'd served as Santa.

Guess it's the Soup Hotel for me after all, he thought with regret, and stepped out into the street.

---

"The Sixth Day to CWC-mas"

Written by Manajerkop

Thursday, December 18, 2008

There is NO Day Six.

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"The Seventh Day to CWC-mas"

Written by Manajerkop

Friday, December 19, 2008, excerpt from operative psychological evaluation report log

Interviewer: Wallace, Kathleen Subject: Morrison, Steven

Wallace: Let's go slowly. I want you to relax. Take a deep breath, and don't shut me out again.

Morrison: Right. *inhales, then exhales* What do you want to go over this time?

Wallace: It's been four months, Steve. Every time I bring it up, you change the subject. You're going to need to face it eventually, or else it's going to rip you apart from the inside. *pauses* I want you to tell me…about Zoey.

Morrison: *silence*

Wallace: She was your best friend, Steve. I know she loved you, and she wouldn't want you to-

Morrison: Shut up.

Wallace: Excuse me?

Morrison: I said, shut up. I'm done. Let me out of here.

Wallace: You're not leaving this room, Steve. Not until we solve your problem.

Morrison: *sighs* I'm going to be completely honest with you, ma'am. I don't care if you say I can't leave. It's meaningless. Just words floating out there that you think are gonna control me.

Wallace: I can't control you. Jason or Clyde or Vivian can't control you. And not even Al seems to be able to control you. And do you know why that is, Steve? Because you embraced chaos.

Morrison: I'm not going to deny it.

Wallace: What I want to know is…why? Why do this to yourself? Why distance yourself from who you were? The original Steve Morrison? Is this other Steve Morrison really that important?

Morrison: So, it's multiple personality disorder now?

Wallace: I didn't say that. What I'm saying is that you're lapsing into Manajerkop more often.

Morrison: I don't lapse into it. I am Manajerkop. I've always been Manajerkop.

Wallace: Not always, Steve. Not always. For a while, this chaotic side of you only manifested in an emotional trigger. For some people, this gets triggered by drugs, alcohol, sex, trauma, and so on. But you…it's the killing. Killing and torturing Sonees and Roseys brings out Manajerkop. And I think I know what started all of this. It was your squadmate. The…the wild girl.

Morrison: Kuri. Her name's Kuri.

Wallace: I don't care. I never want to talk to her or even look at her again after what she did last session. What I do want to talk about is Kevin Shaw, mostly because I'm seeing some parallels between you and him in terms of survivor's guilt. How has he been coping with Matt's death?

Morrison: I don't know. The only times I've ever talked to him recently are debriefing periods about his spy operation. Ever since Hogwash, he spends nearly all of his free time reading the Sonichu comic and studying essays on the original Sonichu. He's not speaking to anyone much anymore, not even Allie. Hell, I don't think the two of them have fucked yet. And whenever he does end up displaying emotions, they're nothing but anger. Like me. *laughs* He learned well.

Wallace: But what was the point of it all, Steve? All this anger, all this chaos, all this hatred and violence and indifference? What did Ledger achieve by all this? What did you achieve by it?

Morrison: *laughs coldly* Combat effectiveness, ma'am. Al couldn't shake his soldier side, so he took me and forged me into a cold-hearted killing machine. I just passed everything he taught me on to Kevin. It's a cycle. It's always been a cycle. And in the end…we all became Honey Badgers. And Honey Badgers don't care.

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"The Eighth Day to CWC-mas"

Written by TatsuNoKoori

Saturday, December 20, 2008, west CWCville, subdivisions, 12 Brunchville Lane

Heather Iglesias gazed out through the windows of her small house, staring at her "employer's" residence with utter hatred. Day in and day out, it was all the same for the nanny…listening to tales of her employer's escapades throughout the city, watching over the bastard children of said employer, and trying her best to avoid being sent away for negligence and locked up in a straight camp. She knew such horrible places existed, through the few friends that she could still contact.

Early in 2006, the young Latina woman had joined the PVCC, but due to of her lack of combat skill, she had been relegated to work as an underground agent. However, in the fall of that same year, the EHPF had outed her - not only as a rebel spy, but also as a hidden lesbian. She'd been offered one of two choices in her punishment: direct execution, or a life of service for Sonichu and Rosechu's offspring. Heather had taken the second option, on the grounds that at the time, there was only one heir to the Sonichu dynasty, Cera Rosey (then called "Cerah").

But as she had quickly learned, the Electric Hedgehog Pokémon never made just one.

"Ratas maldito…" she muttered under her breath, her words drenched in vicious abhorrence.

She thought back to the days before the occupation, back when she used to babysit for some of the families that once lived in the now-chu-infested houses. She remembered how much she had looked forward to helping her neighbors care for their children whenever they were busy with housework, paperwork, or their jobs. She missed the sheer happiness that her charges radiated with whenever they saw her…how she loved telling them stories about her adventures outside of CWCville…seeing their faces light up when she showed them exotic treasures from her travels, and watching them gaze at her with amazement as she wove tales about the places she'd visited.

But those days were long behind her now. Heather bitterly fought back the urge to cry as she was torn from her wistful daydream and plunged into harsh reality. Her charges were now the three babbling abominations that Sonichu and Rosechu had spawned together, and the human children she had used to baby-sit were now either in Soup Hotels, straight camps, or Feeding Day pits.

She remembered, as tears began to flow down her cheeks, that several years had passed since the devastating fire that had engulfed the home of three of her most beloved charges. Heather often wondered if there had been any survivors that day, or if anyone other than the EHPF had cared about the fire. And it wasn't as if the chus had even cared about the humans in that house, but rather about a single baby Sonee, whose mutilated and charred little body had been found inside.

Heather rubbed her eyes, trying to rid herself of the bitter emotions. Thankfully, the little beasts were all next door in that horrid ill-painted house. She didn't have to show much restraint in her sorrow, but the fear of being spotted by the psychic eye-in-the-sky kept her in near constant fear.

"…to save us all from Satan's power when we were gone astray…"

Heather glanced up, surprised, as what sounded like a very small group of people approached, all singing "God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen". Hesitantly, she hurried to the door and opened it.

Outside, in the biting cold of a December night, stood a trio of heavily bundled people – two men and a woman, all of whom were holding little caroling cards. On the backs of the cards, a small but very familiar red half-maple leaf had been printed. The PVCC emblem. The last symbol of humanity that remained in this forsaken city…even after the deaths of so many innocents. They looked as if they had been walking for a long time, and it was evident in their voices that they needed both warmth and shelter.

Before any chu saw them, she ushered them into her house. Gratefully, the young operatives set about removing their heavy coats and stomping the snow off their boots, while Heather fetched a tray with mugs of hot chocolate and apple cider from the kitchen. Walking back into the living room, she realized that one of the Jerkops was sitting by her chair in the living room, pulling off her boots and other snow gear. She was about to ask the operative to shake off the rest of the snow before sitting down, but the words caught in her throat when the woman removed her hood.

For a moment, Heather believed she must have been hallucinating. The Jerkop bore an uncanny resemblance to one of her past charges, right down to her oddly-parted, milk-chocolate hair.

"Señorita?" she asked tentatively. The girl couldn't possibly be her. Not unless…

"Si, Señora?" the Jerkop answered involuntarily, and something seemed to click inside her. She looked up, and an expression of pure shock spread across her face. "Heather?"

The tray slipped from Heather's shaking hands, smashing to bits on the floor. "Kuri?"

The Jerkop trembled, and tears began to flow from her beautiful blue eyes. Without warning, she leapt from the chair and hurled herself at her old babysitter, wrapping her arms around Heather and crying with unrestrained joy and bitter sorrow. "YOU'RE…YOU'RE ALIVE!"

"KURI!" sobbed Heather, and embraced the young woman as tightly as she could. The last time she had seen her former charge was back in 1996, when she had taken the picture of the Tatsuno family and little Kuri had departed Kanto aboard the S.S. Anne. But this was not the same bubbly girl that had departed so long ago. It was almost as if… No. She couldn't assume that yet. As much as she dreaded her former charge's answer, she had to ask. She just had to know.

"What…what do you mean, 'alive'?" she asked softly.

The Jerkop looked up at Heather, her eyes red and puffy, but filled with an unfathomable depth of anguish…like a child who had lost everything dear to her. All that she could manage to get out was some partially intelligible sentence…something that contained the word 'family'.

"Kuri," continued Heather, dreading the outcome, "please tell me wha-"

"THEY'RE ALL DEAD!" Kuri cried, her face twisted into a dark reversal of the innocent child she had once been. "EVERYONE! DAIKI! ANN! NAOKI! MILLIE! ALL KILLED BY THAT FUCKER CHANDLER!" Weeping, the Jerkop collapsed to the floor in a fit of agonized sobs.

Heather could only stand there, horrified, frozen with hopeless anguish. "All…all of them?"

Kuri nodded hard and squeezed her eyes shut, unable to form words as she shook with grief.

Without a sound, Heather knelt down and hugged the young Jerkop close as they cried together, struck silent by the sheer gravity of the situation. Endless questions about what had happened to the Tatsuno family buzzed furiously in her head, but every one of them didn't seem to want to be answered. At least, all but one of them.

"...Como?" she asked nervously, accidently slipping into her native tongue out of the apparent senselessness of the loss her friend had suffered. It was really the only thing that she could ask.

"Operation Nanny."

Heather looked up to see a tall, blond-haired Jerkop with a patch on his right eye quietly standing on the other side of her chair, his gaze fixed upon the sobbing Kuri. The nanny didn't know how long the young man had been watching their reunion, but it didn't seem as if he'd been there for more than a few moments. Silently, he sank into a chair as his operative continued to grieve.

"Chandler's administration had been working on that damned program since the early days of the occupation," the blond Jerkop explained softly, "under a title they referred to as the Alpha stages. What it entailed…" He cleared his voice, perhaps in an attempt to keep from wavering. "It meant forcing families to house ferals in their residences, essentially putting the hosts under the strictest form of house arrest. The families couldn't leave for any reason, not even for food. The only way out…" He glanced away, as if holding back some immense anger. "A body bag."

A deep wave of sickness crashed through Heather's entire body. She had known about Operation Nanny's disturbing nature from her days as an info-runner, but to know that the chus had gone to that barbaric extreme, and that the Tatsunos had met their end in such a cruel manner...

"And Kuri…found them?" she cautiously inquired, fearing what the inevitable answer would be.

The Jerkop nodded, and Heather's heart nearly shattered then and there. To think that such a young girl had witnessed such horror...to think that anyone had ever gone through anything like what Kuri had endured. And from the darkest depths of her mind, a dim ember, a spark that once had nearly been extinguished by years of playing nanny to the royal chu brats, was suddenly rekindled into a bonfire of blazing hatred.

The will of Heather Iglesias had been born anew.

"This can't go on," she snarled, determination burning bright in her eyes. "People dying and suffering for a mob of Puta Chu's bastard spawn..." She leapt to her feet furiously. "IT CAN'T!"

The young man didn't even flinch at her exclamation, but merely smiled grimly.

"That's why we came to you, Ms. Iglesias," he said firmly. "Ever since Cera, Christine, and Robbie were born, they've become living symbols of the chus' succession. Their very existence threatens to keep the hopes of the Electric Hedgehog Pokémon alive, motivating them into far more dangerous prospects. We've been planning to bring an ultimatum to the chus…a message to show them that we're done being their slaves." His eyes narrowed. "And we want the message to rock them to the core." He motioned to the third operative, a young man with brown hair and a thin scar across his cheek. "Kevin?"

"Hello, Ms. Iglesias," the Jerkop said. "Kevin Shaw. This is our squad leader, Steve Morrison."

"Ah. Buenas noches, Señor Shaw." She stepped forward and shook Kevin's hand, but something still puzzled her. She turned to the blond Jerkop. "But Señor, what do I have to do with this?"

Steve grinned. "It's simple. Over the past few days, Kevin's been in contact with Cera Rosey and the rest of the Sonichu family. They've invited him to their Christmas party tomorrow, and he's going to be there, celebrating the holidays with the Chaotic Combo and all their friends." He leaned in close to the Latina, and a sinister glint shone in his good eye. "And while he's there, we're going to be right here, next door. Watching. Waiting. Studying. Preparing."

"For what?" Heather asked quietly, even though she already knew the answer.

The icy blue eye narrowed. "Judgment Day."

Heather exhaled and closed her eyes. "Muy bien. Muy bien, Señor Morrison." She turned her attention to the young girl, whose sobbing had softened slightly. "Kuri? Mí corazón, look at me."

Kuri sniffled and rubbed her eyes, now sporting a very tear-stained and reddened face. "Yeah?"

Heather gently stroked her friend's hair, smiling gently. "I will help you and your friends get into the Sonichu house. They took so much from us all...to allow them to live to see another sunrise would be nothing short of traitorous." She leaned closer to Kuri, frowning slightly. "And I swear upon the golden hooves of Arceus, that while I couldn't save your family…I will be there when you make Sonichu's family pay for what they did to us. I will be there, mí corazón."

With that, the two of them embraced again. Kuri smiled happily, overcome with joy. For the first time in years, the cold darkness in her heart had lifted, leaving nothing but innocence and peace.

When her day of vengeance came, it would be all the sweeter with Heather Iglesias at her side.

---

"The Ninth Day to CWC-mas"

Written by Manajerkop

Sunday, December 21, 2008, west CWCville, subdivisions, 14 Brunchville Lane

Ding-dong!

Kevin stepped back from the door and quickly adjusted his hair, as if preparing for a big date. He was fairly sure that he looked reasonably well-groomed already, but a little extra caution never hurt. Making a good first impression with the overlords of CWCville was the easy part. In fact, the actual "party" part was the easy part – just mingling and making small talk and trying not to give away anything that might blow his cover. The hard part was still to come.

Hope I brought enough, he thought, glancing over his shoulder at his heavy backpack.

The door swung open, and Kevin knew that it was now or never.

"Oh…hi," Rosechu addressed the Jerkop with disinterest. She was wearing her standard holiday outfit – a red sleeveless shirt with a Christmas tree on the front and a tiny green skirt that barely reached past her panties. She glanced at the large mincemeat pie that Kevin was holding. "We did not order a pie, thank you very much, mister deliveryman. Merry C-Mas and stay straight!"

"Mrs. Rosechu," Kevin replied quickly. "It's me, remember? Kevin? Cera's friend from school?"

"Oh! The Jewish boy!" The female Electric Hedgehog Pokémon smiled forcibly and accepted the pie. "Of course, we are highly tolerant of every form of religious practice; as you know! Won't you come in? Cera is in the living room with our other guests; she will be very happy to see you are here!" Rosechu stepped back to let Kevin inside, then abruptly paused as she noticed the little pink ball of fluff peeking out from behind the Jerkop's leg. "Awww! What an adorable little Rosey you are!"

"HI DERE!" SUZI waddled up to the pink chu's leg and hugged it, nuzzling the red and blue plastic boot. "I'm Soozee Wosey an dis is my Nanny Kevin! Awe you da owiginaw Wosechu?"

"Yes, it is true," Rosechu answered, beaming with pride at the LIESA unit's carefully calculated question. "I am the True and Original Rosechu; copyright 2000 by Christian Weston Chandler."

"Suzy's been so excited to come to your party," added Kevin, and picked up SUZI. "She really wants to meet little Robbie, too! She had a dream about him last night, as a matter of fact!"

"Oh, GodJesus!" exclaimed Rosechu, surprised. "Well, Suzy will have to make the first move, then! Robbie is very stressed from that dirty troll Decepti-Clone Rosey's HOMO ATTACK!"

SUZI smiled and hugged Kevin's arm. "I wanna meet Wobbie Sonee! Can we go pway now?"

"Sure you can!" the Jerkop replied with false enthusiasm, and stepped into 14 Brunchville Lane. Hanging his winter coat on a wall hook, he straightened up and took a good long look at his surroundings. To say the house was an architectural embarrassment would have been far too kind. A kindergartener could have designed a better floor plan. From the main hallway, he could see into the rec room and the kitchen, while a single bathroom jutted out from the left wall next to the kitchen door. As he kicked the snow off his boots, Rosechu walked past him serenely and into the kitchen, where a purple Sonichu with blue ears and a yellow Rosechu with headphones over her ears were conversing with a small teenage Rosechu with wings and a firefly's tail.

Taking a deep breath, Kevin placed the LIESA on the floor. "SUZI, get a full interior scan and come back here as soon as you're done. Let the Badgers know that we're starting our sweep."

"Okey-dokey!" replied SUZI, and waddled into the living room. Kevin could hear her gleefully introducing herself to the partygoers, followed by their reactionary exclamations of adoration. At least she's having fun. Now comes the hard part – not trying to kill any of these furry fuckers.

The Jerkop walked into the kitchen, silently noting the dull mixture of browns and whites that made up the décor of Rosechu's workplace. The housewifely chu, though, seemed content to be in such a drab, oppressively confining role, for she had busied herself with rolling out a sheet of sugar cookie dough on the counter and stirring a large pot of Brunswick stew with her prehensile tail, both at the same time. It was obvious that she'd grown so accustomed to her-

Brunswick stew?

"Oh my God! KEVIN!" shouted an unnervingly familiar voice. "KEVIN! YOU'RE ALIVE!"

Oh Arceus, no, thought Kevin as cold sweat spread across his forehead. Not now. Not her.

A teenage girl slammed into him out of nowhere and hugged him as hard as she could, the Poké Balls on her belt pressing against his waist and her blue baseball cap whacking him painfully in the collarbone as she squeezed him with all her might.

"I haven't seen you in forever!" Kel cried in joy, finally releasing her cousin after a few more intensely awkward moments. She glanced down at his belt, noting the two Poké Balls hanging there. "Oh wow! You're a Pokémon trainer too, like me! What've you got so far?"

"An…an Arbok," Kevin answered truthfully, glancing up as Zapina, Jamsta, and Lolisa stared at them. "I caught him back in 2004. His name's…Frank."

"Wow! Cool!" exclaimed Kel in an unnatural, overly saccharine voice. This definitely wasn't the bright, spirited girl he'd once known. Something had happened to her in the years since the chu occupation, and Kevin had no doubt that her love for Rosechu had led to her eventual corruption. "I've still got all my Pokémon, except Rosey, of course! She's with Sonichu now, you know! They got married March 17, 2006 : ) and had three children; Cera Rosey, Christine Rosey, and Robbie Sonee!" The words sounded rehearsed, artificial, programmed. The spark of energy that had once existed in Kel's heart was long gone, replaced by everything Chandler wanted in a girl. It had been Kel who had helped ended Evan Christopher George's life…Kel who had so gleefully partaken in the torture, humiliation, and butchery of the Asperpedia Four…Kel, who had willingly betrayed her own species out of her staunch loyalty to her precious Rosechu.

This girl was not Kel Felix. The Kel he remembered as his cousin had died a long time ago.

The Jerkop forced a smile. "That's fantastic, Kel! I know Cera from AnneWeston Elementary – I work as a teacher's assistant in her class! She invited me to the Christmas party, so here I am!"

"Great! Let me introduce you to my friends!" chirped the girl in a voice that was far too cheery. She grabbed Kevin's hand and pulled him over to meet the Rosechu with insect wings. "This is Zapina Rosechu! She goes to Boleyn High School with me! Zapina, this is my cousin Kevin!"

"Hi, Kevin!" Zapina greeted him rapidly, zipping into the air and doing a flip. "Merry C-Mas!"

"Merry…C-Mas, Zapina," replied Kevin, forcing himself to use the horrid term Chandler had come up with to make the holiday "his own". At least it wasn't "CWC-mas". "How are you?"

"14 years cute and going on 15!" squealed Zapina, and winked. Kevin nearly vomited. "Kel's been telling me all about her new boyfriend! They're Sweethearts from the Ground-Up!"

"Yes, it's true," sighed Kel. "Nait and I are meant to be together forever!" She turned to the other two Electric Hedgehog Pokémon. "And this is Jamsta Sonichu and Lolisa Rosechu! You should know them by now – they run the KCWC radio station and play all the biggest hits, every day!"

"Dang straight, Kel-El!" Jamsta announced, and Kevin was forced to physically restrain himself from lunging for the knife holder on the counter. The purple Sonichu chuckled at his own joke, then looked over at Kevin. "Nice to have ya on board for da biggest, snowiest, festiviest C-Mas party in da house, GodJesus, Mary, and BRO-seph!" He laughed again. "Peace out, home-bre!"

Kevin couldn't help but wonder what Patrick Ryan would do in his situation…that didn't involve him immediately punching Jamsta Sonichu's teeth out of the back of his spiky discolored head.

"And I'm Lolisa Rosechu!" Lolisa added – her standard rehearsed line for KCWC. That was it.

"Come on, Kevin! I've got so many friends to show you!" Kel dragged Kevin out of the kitchen and toward the living room, where Punchy Sonichu, Bubbles Rosechu, Blake Sonichu, Darkbind Sonichu, Blazebob Sonichu, Chloe Rosechu, and Bionic the Hedgehog were gathered around the television, watching a special holiday announcement from Chandler on FQX News.

"I, uh, apologize in advance for tha un-Christmasey or udderwise offending portions…offensive statements in dis message," the Mayor stated, "an' I wish y'all a merry Christmas and such. Anyway, how dare you pe-you certain individuals continue to spread lies and mistruths about me and my Original Electric Hedgehog Pokémon? Don't act like y'all don't know what I'm talkin' about, because I am not so much a manchild as y'all seem ta think I am! Tha Sonichus an' Rosechus are not thieves. Dey're GOOD CHRISTIANS LIKE THA REST OF US, an' tha Bible says dat "thou shall not steal", SO THEY DON'T STEAL!. Don't y'all try an' lie you dang atheist trolls, because you WILL be judged by God and Jesus and they WILL send you to Hewl unless you respect tha spirit of tha holidays an' repent for your trollin' stupid sins! Y'know who tha real thieves are? Dose dang trolls from tha Asperpedia, dat's who! And look at what happened ta-" There was a sudden jump cut, and a shadow that could only have been Anna McLerran could briefly be glimpsed leaving the room. "Right, sent them ta live with tha Amish an' stuff."

"Everybody!" Kel announced to the crowd of chus as she pulled Kevin into the living room. On TV, Chandler was in the middle of a long pause, searching for something to say. "This is my cousin Kevin! He's a Pokémon trainer like me, and he's gonna be Cera Rosey's best friend!"

"And anudder thing," Chandler continued, carrying on while Kel introduced Kevin to the chus. "I'd just like to announce that I will not be available for anything tonight, as I will personally be attending tha Original Sonichu and Rosechu's Christmas celebration. I just KNOW you WEAK COWARDS are gonna try ta ruin dere Christmas because you're jealous of how fortunate dey are-insteada tryin', why don't y'all just KILL YOURSELVES? Hmmmm? Hmmmmm? Yeah, y'all should just go ahead an' do dat, 'cuz ain't nobody gettin' into dat house without permission from its rightful owners and designer, an' lemme tell ya, not ONE of y'all is gonna get past US!"

Down in the basement, SUZI spun in a circle and quickly recorded a digital map of the entire room with the specialized sensors implanted in her nose, then fired her skirt repulsors and jetted up the stairs, back into the kitchen. There was still one last room to search, and if her calculations were right, that was exactly where she would find her primary objective. And she couldn't wait.

Waddling through the kitchen and into the main hallway, the LIESA unit giggled to herself and did a little 'happy dance' that would have been impossible for a real Rosey. Everyone absolutely adored her…every chu, anyway. She had made sure to avoid Kel and Rocky Shoemaker, though BILLY MAYS, being an undercover PVCC agent, had immediately picked up on what was going on and played right along, even giving her a little ball of Mighty Putty as a Christmas present to play with. SUZI had stored the adhesive in her head…she had her own plans for it.

Grabbing the "baby knob" attached to Robbie's bedroom door, she pulled open the tiny larva-sized flap and waddled inside. Toys, games, action figures, and three dozen pairs of discarded blue plastic shoes lay strewn about the ugly yellow room, while a large bed with battery-blue and yellow lightning bolt patterned blankets sat on the right side against the wall. The Sonee himself was nowhere to be seen, but SUZI's analysis pointed to two possible locations: food or Daddy.

Jetting onto the bed for a better vantage point, she scanned the room. It wouldn't work well for Hedgeclipper as a staging point, so she simply categorized it as Low Potential and hopped back down. Her task was done. Now she just had to find out where the naïve little Sonee was hiding.

"…an I hewped Daddee put da stawckings up AWL BY MYSEWF!" a screechy, whiny voice sounded from the warm rec room. "An Sanna's gonna fiww dem awl up wif candee an pwesents fow me an Cewah an Chwistine, but Mommee an Daddee don' need pwesents 'cuz dey got US!"

Making sure her eye-screens were still flipped to their green Rosey Mimic setting, SUZI toddled towards the high-pitched noise. Sure enough, the tiny fat yellow blob had managed to climb all the way on top of the buffet table, and was currently in the process of eating his way out of a red velvet cake three times his size that he'd also eaten his way into. Around the room, Cera Rosey and Christine Rosey were playing patty-cake on the floor while helping themselves to a giant bowl of red and green M&Ms and little plastic cups of CWCnog, the sickeningly rich version of eggnog that Chandler had ordered his CWC-Cola factory to produce for the holidays. Wild Sonichu and his daughter Sandy were conversing with Angelica Rosechu, and towards the back of the room, BILLY MAYS and a miserable-looking Heather Iglesias were discussing the recent election of the American politician, Barack Obama. Back at the buffet, Robbie finally emerged from the cake, covered from ears to sneakers in cream cheese frosting, and continued to brag to Kevin about his increasing speed and all the adventures he was going to go on when he evolved. Beside them, Sonichu stood eating a Christmas cookie and gazing at his son with immense pride.

"HI DERE!" SUZI shouted loudly, startling Robbie and causing him to slip on his own frosting.

"OOF! WAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!" wailed the Sonee as he toppled off the table and dropped like a stone, slamming into the hardwood floor with a soft whump. His considerable baby fat absorbed most of the damage, but Robbie continued screaming until his father picked him up and offered him a peppermint, which he quickly grabbed in his little armstubs and began sucking on.

"What kind of nanny do you think you are, mister?" Sonichu snapped, cradling the tiny Sonee in his arms as Robbie sniffled and sucked on his peppermint. "Y'all know you're supposed ta catch Sonees if they fall from high places! Roseys can use their skirts as parachutes, but Sonees are full of spunk and speed. Plus, they don't wear skirts unless they're HOMOS!" He puffed himself up with smug pride. "And as you should know, NO Electric Hedgehog Pokémon is a dirty HOMO!"

"But…" The Jerkop stopped himself before he could point out the fact that Sonichu hadn't even bothered to try saving his own son mid-fall, relegating the responsibility to a 'nanny' even though, as the zappin' hero of CWCville, he was far, far more than capable of the speed and agility necessary for such a trivial and simple task. Furthermore, Kevin had no words to describe the sheer mind-numbing perplexity of how Sonichu had managed to turn an accident that he had been fully capable of preventing into accusing Kevin of challenging Robbie's sexual orientation.

"But nothing!" Rosechu added, appearing out of nowhere to back up her husband. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself! I thought Jews were supposed to be more responsible and careful with their children! They don't know any better! You need to set a better example, or else they will develop…" She drew in a deep breath, as if about to speak a horrible profanity. "Asperger's!"

A collective gasp ran through the Electric Hedgehog Pokémon in the room, while BILLY MAYS and Heather surreptitiously rolled their eyes and shot Kevin encouraging glances. Wild hurriedly covered Sandy's ears, and Angelica nearly dropped her wineglass of CWC Orange Soda.

"Wat awe you awl tawkin abowt?" asked SUZI, scratching her headspikes confusedly.

"Suzy!" exclaimed Kevin, and stepped over to pick up the little LIESA unit as Rosechu departed, presumably to resume cooking. "There you are! I've been looking all over for you!" He patted her on her cloth head. "You've been such a good little Rosey! Are you having fun tonight?"

"YEAH!" SUZI squealed. "I made wots of fwiends an BIWWY MAYS gave me sum candee!"

Across the room, BILLY MAYS winked at Kevin. The Jerkop returned the gesture, but Sonichu and Robbie didn't notice. "That's great, Suzy! Listen, I want you to meet the original Sonichu!"

"Copyright 2000, by Christian Weston Chandler," added Sonichu with a self-righteous grin.

"Yeah, that," Kevin continued, and pointed to the yellow fuzzball in Sonichu's arms. "Suzy, this is Robbie Sonee. You know…the one you dreamed about? He's going to lead the next Combo!"

"An I'm gonna wun wealwy fast wun day, just wike my Daddee!" Robbie managed to announce through the peppermint. If there were any justice in the world, he would have choked on the hard candy, but his mouth was far too small to accommodate the entire thing at once.

Through her inter-squad link, SUZI detected a massive spike in Steve Morrison's blood pressure. It was time to put her sinister plan into action. She stared straight into Robbie's lizard eyes and winked. "Ex-kyoose me, but I heawd you were wooking fow a boyfwiend-fwee Wosey, wight?"

"Uh…YEAH!" replied the Sonee after a few stuttered attempts at a response. "I've been in need of a Sweetheawt fwom da Gwownd-Up! So wat's youwr nayme?"

"My nayme is Soozee Wosey!" stated the LIESA unit proudly, and held out an armstub.

Robbie returned the gesture as Kevin and Sonichu held out their respective passengers for stub-contact. "I'm Wobbie Sonee, but you may cawl me Wobbie!"

"Wewl, I was wondewin if you want ta pway Hide an Seek in da howse wif me?"

The Sonee's hideous eyes bulged with anticipation. "Okay, shuwe!"

"Gweat!" squealed SUZI. "I'wl meet you in da wiving woom in five minuwts!" Kevin placed her on the ground and she waddled off, giggling, leaving the Jerkop alone with Sonichu and his son. Robbie was shivering with nervous glee, as big drops of sweat formed on his fuzzy face. Finally, he pushed himself upright and raised an armstub into the air, his harelip mouth forming a shape that Kevin could only describe as a red bat'leth, the Klingon ceremonial blade from Star Trek.

"YAY!" the Sonee cried at the top of his lungs. "MY WUV QWEST IS FYNAWEE OVEWR!"

"Yes partner; you have found a heartsweet of your own," Sonichu commended his cheering son, and placed Robbie in Kevin's arms. "And now Cera's Jewish friend is going to help get you all nice and cleaned up for your big First Date with Suzy Rosey! If you are lucky, she will be your Sweetheart from the Ground-Up and help you lead the next Chaotic Combo, just like Mommy!"

"YAY!" Robbie shrieked again. Suddenly, his expression changed to one of surprise. "Uh-oh…"

OhmyGodohmyGodohmyfuckingArceus, Kevin thought frantically as he looked around for the nearest bathroom. Sonichu was staring right at him expectantly, and Robbie's plump tummy was rumbling like a miniature earthquake. There was only one possible way the situation could end now. What he was holding was nothing less than a living, breathing, fuzzy, 25-pound time bomb.

Keeping himself as calm as possible, the Jerkop turned and headed for the main hallway, crossed to the horrifically-placed bathroom, grabbed the knob, twisted it open it, and…

"AAAAAAIIIIIEEEEEE! LEAVE ME ALONE, YOU DIRTY PEDOFORK! GEEZE! CAN'T A GIRL EVEN PUT IN A TAMPON WITHOUT BEING TABLOIDED OR EXPLOITED?!"

"Hi, Mommee!" squealed Robbie, and cheerfully waved to Rosechu just before Kevin slammed the bathroom door faster than he had ever slammed a door before in his life. The rumbling was growing louder and louder now, and unless he found a toilet soon, the Sonee was going to blow. His unnatural digestive system had processed half of the red velvet cake he'd just eaten, along with two pounds of chocolate, a quart of CWCnog, and four slices of the 'special' mince pie that Kevin had brought to the party. How he had stomached it all was a mystery.

Panicking, Kevin dashed to the forbidden door – Sonichu and Rosechu's bedroom. He had heard (and in the case of Rosechu's nude photos, seen) that there was another bathroom in the house, one that could only have been attached to the master bedroom. Opening the door, he leapt inside, tore open the adjacent door to the bathroom, and plopped Robbie's plump bottom onto the toilet.

Thank fucking Arceus, he thought as the wet splashing sounds commenced. If Robbie had had an 'accident' all over him, Operation Hedgeclipper would have been reported as 'carried out a full two months early by a lone Jerkop, who was quickly KIA after his situation was compromised'.

No. He had to live. He had to see the operation through to the bitter end of the Sonichu children. For Zoey and Amanda, for Jake and Frank and Ivy and Sarah and the Asperpedia Four. But most of all…for Matt. Since Hogwash, Kevin's thoughts had been focused on one thing and one thing alone – vengeance for his fallen best friend. It was vengeance that had driven him to volunteer to infiltrate AnneWeston Elementary School, vengeance that drove him to seek the friendship of Cera Rosey, vengeance that kept him from grabbing Robbie Sonee, shoving his smug little face into the toilet, and drowning the baby Electric Hedgehog Pokémon in its own fecal matter.

The day would come when he and Sonichu would see each other plain, and face off in a vicious battle for victory or death. But it was not this day. This was a day of preparation.

While Robbie continued unloading a disproportionate amount of filth into the porcelain bowl, Kevin unzipped his backpack in plain view of the Sonee and removed a tiny surveillance camera – one of two dozen that Vivian Gee had provided for him to place around 14 Brunchville Lane. On the day Operation Hedgeclipper went into effect, the cameras would at last be switched on, capturing footage of the entire glorious montage of pain, torture, and bloody carnage.

Kevin stepped over to the side of Sonichu and Rosechu's bed and, taking care not to touch the sheets, rolled a little piece of Mighty Putty from BILLY MAYS into a ball and pressed it into the camera's base. Working quickly, he affixed the camera to the wall, briefly adjusting its angle so that it would have a clear view of the big bed and the floor around it, then stepped back. Perfect.

"Hi dere, Nanny Kevin!" SUZI waddled into the room and waved at him. "Whewe's Wobbie?"

"Awl dun!" Robbie exclaimed self-importantly, and toppled clumsily off the toilet onto the floor. Kevin held his breath, raised a leg, and managed to hit the flush lever with his foot, thus avoiding the deadly fumes rising from the bowl. "Awe we gonna pway Hide an Seek now, Soozee?"

"YEAH!" squealed the LIESA unit. "But wen you find me, you hafta tag me! Gotta go fast!"

The words were music to Robbie's long, black-tipped ears. "YAY! I'm da fastewst Sonee in da wowld! I'm gonna find you an tag you, an den I'm gonna win! Dis wiwl be easee! YAY!"

"Not so fast," Kevin growled, and snatched up the cake and frosting-covered Sonee in one hand. "Bath time!" Taking care to avoid putting his fingers anywhere near Robbie's soiled underside, he placed the little chu in the sink and turned the water to a lukewarm temperature, then blasted Robbie with a quick rinse and scrubbed his short yellow and brown fur until every last crumb of red velvet cake and every smear of creamy frosting was washed away. It was the single most disgusting task he'd ever undertaken, but the thought of Matt's lifeless eyes kept him scrubbing.

Once Robbie was all rinsed, Kevin rather unceremoniously balled him up in a big fluffy towel and rolled it around on the floor to dry him off, then unwrapped the dizzy, satisfied Sonee and placed him in front of SUZI. "Okay, you're all clean now, Robbie! You two have fun now!"

SUZI giggled. "Okay, stawt cowntin ta twenny!"

The Sonee covered his eyes. "Wun, twee, sebben, thiwteen, nine, twee, sebben, fowty-too…"

In less than three seconds, the little combat drone had fired her repulsor skirts and zoomed up to the top of Sonichu and Rosechu's dresser. Landing on her hydraulic stumpfeet, she waddled over to a large potted zapbud flower and hid behind it. Kevin chuckled. It wasn't a particularly good hiding place, but Robbie would never find her, and even if he did, he'd still have to climb up the entire dresser to even have a shot at tagging SUZI. More likely, he would just get tired first and ask her to give up the game because it was too stressful for him.

Now for Christine and Cera, he thought to himself as he made his way out of the bedroom and back toward the rec room. After surviving his brush with the potentially shitty situation that Sonichu had inadvertently presented him with, he was more than ready to passively take out some of his anger on the other two Sonichu brats. SUZI would keep Robbie busy long enough for him to finish planting the other cameras, and then it was just a matter of making his way out of the party without being delayed any further by rampant idiocy and run-ins with more chus.

"Dere you awe, Kevin!" Cera waddled up to the Jerkop and hugged his shin, while Christine shot him a momentary glance and instantly returned to staring into her handheld, or rather, 'stubheld' mirror. "Mewwy See-Mas! I am so happee you awe here at da Chwistmas pawtee! YAY!"

"And I'm happy to be here too, Cera," replied Kevin, picturing her screaming and struggling in agony as he sliced her belly open and ripped out her internal organs one by one with his bare hands. He smiled. "Merry C-Mas! Guess what I brought for a certain little Rosey I know!"

The pink fuzzball's eyes lit up like two globular Christmas lights. "OOH! CEWAH CANDEE?"

"Very smart!" Kevin congratulated her, and reached into his pocket to retrieve another plastic bag of the rich, chewy chocolate candy that Cera had come to love so much.

While the greedy Rosey and her siblings were more than happy to devour immense quantities of the delicious confection, they never once had inquired about what was in it, or why Rosechu had never been able to find it in stores. The truth was simple – Kevin was pulling a Sweeney Todd on the Sonichu family. With the holidays approaching, Kuri had taken up the solemn duty of capturing, preparing, and cooking as many feral and homebred Sonees and Roseys as possible into a variety of holiday-themed dishes. These very same chu larvae now currently resided in the bellies of Sonichu and Rosechu's children, as well as anychu who had eaten Kevin's mince pie.

It was a small act of revenge to have turned the chus into cannibals, but a satisfying one, too.

"Hey, Cera?" Kevin asked, kneeling down beside the Rosey as she stuffed her harelip mouth with piece after piece of the chocolate and shredded baby chu meat candy. "Want to be a big, responsible girl and help make Mommy and Daddy and Grandpa Chris all really happy?"

Cera sighed and looked up, annoyed at having been interrupted. "Do I get a pwesent fiwst?"

"But I just gave you a present," Kevin faltered, pointing to the bag of chocolate. "Cera Candy."

The Rosey let out another stress-sigh and crossed her stubs. "No, swow-in-da-mind, dat was fow me! Jewish fowk awe sposed ta give dere Wosey fwiends pwesents weneva dey see dem! Mommee towd me dat was a Jewish twa-di-shun, an Mommee knows awl abowt dat stuff!" At this sudden revelation, Christine perked up. She was a Rosey too, and Kevin had to be her friend.

"I am going to pull you apart one layer of skin at a time, Cera Rosey," said Kevin softly.

Cera waddled forward a few steps. "Wat?"

"I said, I've got another present for you!" Reaching into his other pocket, the Jerkop pulled out a tiny Rosey-sized wooden spatula that Steve had carved with his kukri. "See, it's a spatula, just like mommies use! Now you can cook, just like Mommy!" He conveniently forgot to mention the fact that, being wood, the utensil wouldn't last very long near any sort of heat source.

"YAY!" Cera yanked the spatula out of his hand and hugged it with her stubs. "I wuv cooking!"

"Right, then." Kevin smiled. "Now Cera, what I want you to do is-"

"Whewe's my pwesent?" Christine whined, shuffling forward with her mirror in one armstub and the other one outstretched towards Kevin in a blatant 'gimme' gesture. "Cewah an Mommee said dat Jewish fowk awe sposed ta give dere Wosey fwiends pwesents weneva dey see-"

You have got to be fucking kidding me. "Of course I've got a present for you, Christine." Well, Albert Ledger does, anyway. Several presents. Several very sharp, very very painful presents.

The purple Rosey immediately brightened up. "YAY! I wuv pwesents! Mommee an Daddee an Gwampa Chwis give me pwesents awl da time 'cuz I'm such a pwetty Wosey! Do you tink im-"

"Yes! I do!" Kevin answered hastily, trying to keep from screaming as he rummaged around in his backpack for a suitable present for Christine. All he had left were the cameras and a gun. Oh, if only he could use the latter. "It's…uh…Robbie's playing with it."

Christine immediately blessed the Jerkop with the single most annoying stress-sigh yet. "But I want my pwesent! I want my pwesent an I want it NOW! NOW NOW NOW NOW-

"GUGHGHHGUHGUGHUGGUGHUGHGUHGGGHHH!"

Kevin rose to his feet and curiously opened the door to Sonichu and Rosechu's bedroom, while Christine and Cera waddled after him, whining about their apparent lack of presents and complaining about the stinginess of 'Jewish folk'. Ignoring the two Roseys, he pushed open the door and was instantly greeted by the insanely pleasing sight of Robbie Sonee rolling around on Sonichu and Rosechu's bed with a large yellow vibrating dildo protruding from his little mouth. SUZI was still on the dresser above an open drawer, watching interestedly as the Sonee sucked and gagged on the toy, making little "GUGHUGHGUGHUGUGHGH!" sounds. What puzzled Kevin, though, was Robbie's apparent and intense enjoyment of the experience.

SUZI glanced over and smiled. "I fownd sum happee stick candee an Wobbie wanted ta twy it!"

"Okay, that's enough." Kevin helped her down and placed her beside the Roseys. "You kids go play in the rec room. Suzy, we're gonna be leaving in a few minutes, okay?"

"Ohhhhhhhhhkaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyy." SUZI let out a short sigh and waddled away. Christine and Cera pondered whether it was a better idea to stay and beg for presents, or follow the LIESA and beg her for presents. In the end, the latter won out. When the larvae had departed, Kevin slowly, ever so slowly, made his way over to the bed, grabbed the dildo, somehow managed to pry it out of the Sonee's throat, and placed it back in the open drawer among Rosechu's unmentionables.

"Awwww, why'd you take my happee stick candee?" whined Robbie. "Dat was tastee candee!"

Kevin sighed. "Robbie, you know you're not supposed to play with Mommy's special toys." Just be glad SUZI didn't tell you to shove it up your butthole, you naïve little shit.

The Sonee blinked. "Whewe's Soozee Wosey?"

"Robbie, I'm sorry, but she was just playing a trick on you," Kevin explained truthfully. "She doesn't want to be your Sweetheart from the Ground-Up anymore."

Robbie's face fell for about half a second, then returned to its normal state of happy curiosity when he noticed a discolored crusty patch on the covers of Sonichu and Rosechu's bed. Rolling over onto his stomach, he pulled his dense little body over to it and began licking it to see if it tasted as good as the 'happy stick candy'. Kevin simply gave up and allowed Robbie the freedom to explore the wonders of his own creation. Sonichu or Rosechu would find their son before the night was done – he was certain of that. Before he left, though, he made sure to close the drawer.

Eventually, the Jerkop's work was done, though how he'd managed it still remained a mystery to him. Chandler himself never showed up at the party like he promised, but Kevin had a sneaking suspicion that the reasoning behind the Mayor's absence started with "god" and ended in "war". Adhering the final camera to the middle of the kitchen ceiling, he headed for the rec room, said a quick goodbye to Heather and BILLY MAYS, collected SUZI, and left through the front door.

"That was fuuuuuUUUUUUnnnn," the LIESA remarked as they walked down the driveway of 14 Brunchville Lane, leaving the Electric Hedgehog Pokémon behind to their night of eating, drinking, vapid talk, and, in Bubbles and Blake's case, inevitable fucking. "Are we ever gonna go back there again? I wanna play with the little hamsters some more! Heeheeheeheeheehee!"

Kevin grinned. "Of course we will, SUZI. Of course we will."

---

"The Tenth Day to CWC-mas"

Written by Manajerkop

Monday, December 22, 2008 excerpt from operative psychological evaluation report log

Interviewer: Wallace, Kathleen Subject: Shaw, Kevin

Wallace: I'm not going to ask you to tell me any more than you want to, Kevin, but it would make these sessions a whole lot easier if you'd just allow me to put you under hypnosis again.

Shaw: I said this the last time we tried that, ma'am. There's just nothing there. It doesn't matter now anyway. Graduon's dead, and he was the only one who could've explained the psychic link.

Wallace: But you see why it's suspicious, don't you? You, Marty Walsh, and Wes Iseli aren't related at all, and yet all three of you claim to have had this innate ability to hear Graduon even when he wasn't directly speaking to you. Whatever he did to get that echo from Magi-Chan into your head, it saved the world. And thanks to Waters, the convoy never made it out of CWCville.

Shaw: Ben did all the work taking out the freeway with SUZI. He's the real hero, not me.

Wallace: Your squad lost two members that day…three if you count Martinez. Your best friend and your squad leader were KIA, and you were present for both of their deaths. In terms of loss versus survivor's guilt, you're not displaying very much anymore, and that worries me, Kevin.

Shaw: Maybe I'm just getting numb to everything.

Wallace: I don't think that's it. I think you're trying too hard.

Shaw: What?

Wallace: I spoke with both Ledger and Morrison over the course of this past week. They're both concerned that you might be falling into a state of emotional paralysis. And…Parker, too.

Shaw: What did Allie say about me?

Wallace: She's worried about you, Kevin. They're all worried about you. You keep throwing yourself into the midst of the Sonichu family, putting yourself at risk with no regard for how it might affect your squadmates. What if you were compromised? What if you were killed?

Shaw: Look at what's at stake here. It's either us or them, and I don't want to lose one more of my friends to those bastards. If I've got to put my life on the line for the greater good-

Wallace: But you don't have to. You put the cameras in 14 Brunchville Lane now – you don't need to go play with Cera or interact with her family or…anything anymore. You're done.

Shaw: It's all about keeping up appearances. We've got to make them think they're invincible – that all the bullshit Chandler keeps saying about them is true. And when they're not expecting it, we're going to take everything away from Sonichu and Rosechu and Chandler. Everything.

Wallace: Because of what Sonichu did to Matt?

Shaw: To all of us. But Matt was the final catalyst for me.

Wallace: How so?

Shaw: When I came to CWCville, I didn't know who I was. I didn't know what I was doing. I was just some dumbass naïve little kid looking for a purpose in life. You know, I used to work at the Shopping Center as a mall cop. Matt and Jake were my best friends back then. Now they're both dead, and the only person I have left to connect me with those days is a girl who worked at a Burger King. *exhales* But she's the one thing I have left. And they won't take her from me.

Wallace: And…what if they do, Kevin? What if they do?

Shaw: *long pause* They won't.

---

"The Eleventh Day to CWC-mas"

Written by HotaruThodt

Tuesday, December 23, 2008, east CWCville, Wilderness HQ

It's just not the same, thought Al as he wheeled the Battle Bus through the security checkpoint and up the concrete driveway to Wilderness's large garage. I missed driving you, baby, but you were better off with Matt. He sighed and looked over his shoulder. "You guys, we're here!"

"All right!" yelled Marty, and leapt up from his seat, grabbed Franken-Sonee, and dashed to the front of the armored school bus. SUZI hovered beside him, giggling and doing flips in midair, while Sugarplum Fury yawned, stretched, and lazily trotted down the aisle after her friends.

"You remembered your present, right?" the Legend asked, chuckling to himself as the little boy gaped in awe at the imposing rows of Crackders and S.A.V.s docked in the former factory. The PVCC's supply of Transformers had been severely depleted after the June Offensive, but for the most part, the loyalists had failed to collect their destroyed parts. Robotnik's construction teams had simply rebuilt a fair share of the combat mechs from the scrap, and melted down the rest.

Marty grinned and held up a shoebox wrapped in paper torn from the Sonichu propaganda comic.

"Good choice of gift wrap," remarked Al, and pulled the Battle Bus up beside a parked Punislav. "Remember, don't wander off, keep the hat on, and whatever you do, don't lose Franken-Sonee."

"Okay!" replied Marty excitedly, and adjusted his Lancers cap to cover his stubby red horns.

"Nee!" added the stitched-together Sonee.

"That's him," a woman's voice sounded from outside the door. "Ledger! Good to see you!"

"Same to you, Hotaru." Al and Marty stepped out of the Battle Bus to find three Jerkops waiting for them – a woman with very long brown hair, black armor, and an artificial right eye who looked to be the Manajerk of the group, a young man with glasses and red hair, and a forlorn-looking man with a baseball cap and a strange scar in the middle of his forehead. A Vaporeon sat on the floor beside the one-eyed woman, ruffling its fins and staring hungrily at Franken-Sonee. Sugar glared at the Pokémon briefly, then sniffed the air and wandered off to inspect an S.A.V.

"We've had a few additions to the Cosmos since the last time you were here," Hotaru explained. She pointed to the man with the scarred head. "This is Michael. We rescued him from a straight camp during the June Offensive. There's another one, Desdemona, but she's on assignment for most of the afternoon with Johnny and Wanda. You're here to see your Jerkop, right?"

Al nodded. "Yes. And you're our escort?"

"Not officially. I just wanted to know how things were going." The Cosmos Manajerk smiled at Marty. "Hey there, little guy! That's a neat little Sonee doll! Did you make it for him, Ledger?"

"Ssssss!" hissed Franken-Sonee.

The red-haired man drew back. "Holy shit. Looks like something you'd come up with, Hotaru."

"Aww, come on, Calvin. It's cute." Hotaru laughed softly and patted Franken-Sonee on his ears. "So who's the kid, Ledger? You finally decided to settle down and adopt one of your own?"

"Pretty much," answered the Legend, casually withholding the truth of Marty's parentage. "His name's Marty. One of my operatives found him out in the abandoned zone after Menchi-Nasu."

"Well, you definitely made the right choice in keeping him. He's adorable," commented the Manajerk. "Come on, we'll take you over to the dorms." She turned and beckoned to Al and Marty, who set off after the group with SUZI, Sugar, and the Vaporeon following close behind.

"You wouldn't believe how many orders Robotnik's been getting for a replica of your bus," said Calvin as they made their way down to the first sublevel of Wilderness. "That thing's selling like hotcakes – it's a miracle we can even crank out enough of them to meet the demand. Meanwhile, you go into any toy store on the west side and all the shelves are full of Sonee and Rosey dolls and Chaotic Combo action figures." He shivered. "It's no wonder everyone wants PVCC toys."

"Anything to spread the Christmas cheer, right?" commented Al. "Plus, it's good for income."

"I want one!" Marty added excitedly. "Can I get a toy Battle Bus for Christmas, Uncle Al?"

"Be sure and tell Santa!" said Al. "It's only two days away, and he's got to know soon!"

Marty grinned with anticipation and hugged Franken-Sonee, who hissed in surprise.

"All right, we're here," announced Hotaru, and opened a door on the side of the hallway. "If he's not there, someone'll page him." She grinned at Al. "Good seeing you, Ledger. Take care."

"You too, Hotaru," replied Al as he ushered Marty, SUZI, and Sugar inside. "Take care."

The sleeping quarters was small and sparsely furnished, with a single cot against the wall, a table and chair, and a side closet. And lying on the cot, surrounded by medical equipment, was…

"Buenos dias, you ugly son of a bitch," coughed Nick Martinez as he sat up to greet the Legend.

"Feliz Navidad, you bastard," laughed Al, and gently patted the sniper on his shoulder. "How you been, Nick? You look a lot better than last time."

"They've mostly got me doing paperwork. Copywriting and boring shit like that." Nick yawned and stretched as Sugar climbed onto the cot and curled up on his lap. "At least I'm off the tank now. Still have problems with fluid buildup, but really, I'm just glad to be alive. How's Kevin?"

Al's smile faltered. "He's okay. You know, he spent the 21st at 14 Brunchville Lane?"

"No shit, hombre?"

"Yep. Cera invited him, so we took the chance to do some research for Operation Hedgeclipper."

Nick leaned back in admiration. "When the hell did the kid finally grow a pair?"

"Hey. Come on." Al poked him in the forehead jokingly. "Be nice. He saved your life, after all."

"Yeah, I know. I haven't forgotten, Al." The sniper patted his chest, just over the bandage that covered his old wound. "God, they're a bunch of sissies, keeping me here. I can still hold a rifle and pull a trigger, you know. A few more months and I should be back in business."

"You stay here and do what they tell you," the Legend cautioned his friend. "Look, I know you want in on Hedgeclipper, but so does the rest of the PVCC. Everyone's going crazy with anticipation, and we can't risk jeopardizing the operation because of one collapsed lung.

Nick's face fell. "So that's it, then. I'd just be baggage. Figures."

"Don't say that. Don't ever say that." Al gazed sternly into the Jerkop's eyes. "You think I'd leave you behind after all these years? Hell, Nick, I've known you since before I met Steve."

Nick nodded. "All right, fair enough. Still miss the blond bastard, though." He looked up at Marty and smiled. "Hola, chico! Como estas?"

"Muy bye-en?" Marty answered cautiously.

"Bien, amigo. Bee-en." The sniper laughed. "Don't worry, you'll get it. Just remember B-N, just say the two letters." He patted Sugar behind her ears. "I see you hiding that. Come on, give it."

Grinning, the little blond boy handed over the wrapped shoebox. "Steve told me you like these!"

"Oh he did, did he?" Nick ripped off the comic wrapping paper and tossed it aside with a grunt of revulsion. "Ugh. Sonichu #11. Thanks for the toilet paper, Marty. Did this just come out?"

"Yeah, Chandler printed it unfinished," Al explained. "The lazy fuck couldn't even finish his damn A Sonichu Christmas episode. Kevin got a mention, though. Cera thinks he's Jewish."

Nick shook his head in bewilderment and opened the box. His face broke out in a massive grin. "Oh no. No, he didn't." Reaching in, he pulled out a large bottle of Break You Dead hot sauce and a blue Speedo. "Goddamn. He just couldn't let that go, could he? Thanks a lot, Marty."

"The hot sauce was my idea," Marty said defensively. "Al, are we gonna play Santa now?"

"Just a sec." Al unbuttoned his trench coat to reveal a Santa suit beneath it. Grabbing a spare pillow from Nick's cot, he stuffed it down the front of the costume, then reached into his pack and withdrew a Santa hat and a fluffy white beard, then cleared his throat. "Ho ho ho!"

"A little jollier," Nick suggested.

"HO HO HO!" chortled Al, and sat down in a chair as SUZI and Marty gathered around. "MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE! HO HO HO!" He smiled. "Who wants to go first?"

"Me! Me! I do!" shouted Marty, raising his hand in excitement.

"YAAAY! PICK ME! PICK ME!" squealed SUZI as she performed an energetic backflip.

"Come up here then, little Marty!" The Legend gestured to his padded lap, and Marty quickly sat down. "Now then, have you been a good boy this year?"

"Yeah!" The look of joy on the child's face nearly melted Al's heart. He'd lost everything – his home, his mother, his…father…and he'd endured horrors that no child his age should ever have had to endure, yet there he sat, as excited and as full of holiday spirit as any normal boy or girl.

"Ho ho ho! Of course you have!" Al patted Marty on the back. "And as you know, good little boys get lots of nice presents! Is there anything in particular you'd like Santa to bring you?"

"A Battle Bus! I want a remote controlled Battle Bus toy!" exclaimed Marty eagerly. "And a jar of pickles for Franken-Sonee, and a BB assault rifle to shoot feral Sonees and Roseys with!"

"HO HO HO!" bellowed Al. "You've certainly got quite the list! I'll see what my elves can do!" He helped Marty off his lap and ruffled his hair tenderly. "Merry Christmas, Marty!"

"I wanna go now! I wanna go now!" SUZI hovered over to Al and dropped into his lap, her eye-screens epileptically flashing red and green, with images of big wrapped presents.

"Ho ho ho! Well, SUZI, have you been a good LIESA this year?"

SUZI paused. "Uh…I dunno. I talked Robbie Sonee into deep-throating a dildo. Is that good?"

"VERY good! Ho ho ho!" The Legend chuckled and patted SUZI's head. "And what do you want for Christmas, little SUZI?"

"I wanna bottle of SpaaAAAaaam, and I wanna bag of tooooothpaste…FOR GREAT JUSTICE! And I wanna go play dress-up in the paaaaaark, and I wanna shelf full of SCREWDRIVERS, and a popcorn maker full of NyquIIIIIIIiiiiil, and I want two HUGE piles of water, and a box of pandaaaaaaas, and four gallons of NYLON SOCKS, and a GIANT MARSMAR COMIC, and a Non-Human Flying Human Sonee Centipede TO BE MY FRIEND FOREVER AND EVER! And a car made of soap, and a sammich made of soap, and a soap made of soap, and a FIVE FOOT PINGAS made of soap, and a…"

"ENOUGH!" roared Al, clapping his mittened hands over his ears. "GOD DAMN IT, SUZI, ENOUGH! Go play with Sugar or something!"

---

"The Twelfth Day to CWC-mas"

Written by arpaat

Wednesday, December 24, 2008, Slumberland, audio log from Patrick Ryan's office

Vivian Gee (on speaker phone): Hello?

Patrick Ryan: "Hey, Vivian? It's me. Just calling to check in on the plan for tonight. You sure you can get the KCWC broadcast offline?

Gee: Yeah. We managed to get a Devil Troll in there about two hours ago. You'll be fine.

Ryan: Excellent. Then it's just a matter of waiting for the panic.

Gee: Should be quite the show. Will Michael be safe?

Ryan: Of course he will! Hell, he's going to play himself, so we have nothing to worry about.

Gee: I can't believe you're taking such a cavalier attitude towards this, Patrick. Think about the potential consequences.

Ryan: It's Christmas Eve, Vivian. The chus don't really care about anything that doesn't involve fucking or presents. Or both.

Gee: They don't…for now. But what about when they think Snyder's going on a rampage?

Ryan: That's the point. The adults go nuts and Christmas is ruined for the little brats, since they can't tell fantasy from reality...like someone we all know. And if this is such a horrible idea, then why are you signing off on it?

Gee: Because of your role in the uprising. When you take out KCWC and divert the EHPF's attention, they'll focus on you while we *censored*. Think of it as practice for what's to come.

Ryan: All right. So when the 'On Air' sign turns on, it means that all of the chus can hear me?

Gee: Affirmative. And one more thing, Patrick. Judging by the footage I'm getting from your office, you look more stiff than you really are in that suit.

Ryan: Of course the suit's stiff! I just starched it yesterday!

Gee: "No, I mean you look like an old man in that suit. Just read your script. Vivian Gee out."

Ryan: Eh, suit yourself. You just don't understand style, baby.

*call ends, sounds of a beer bottle being opened and a lighter being flicked*

*background music, "God's Gonna Cut You Down"*

*door opens, meaty smacking sound - a severed Rosechu head being tossed to Ryan*

Ryan: You finally got her, eh Zero?

Zero Sonichu: I was looking for that bitch for eight months. I'm just happy I finally got her.

Ryan: Of course. I mean, she did things to you...right?

Zero: Let's…not talk about that. Also, she had babies.

Ryan: What? I thought she of all chus would show some restraint in choosing mates.

Zero: I found a lot of her bastards roaming around the city while I was hunting her. I think that answers your question right there.

Ryan: Damn. I know the chus make rabbits look like nuns, but I didn't think they'd go that far. Sticking their dicks in an axe-murdering crazy Rosechu.

Zero: Your species can't seem to avoid doing it either. Why would you expect the average member of my species not to when we have the libido of about ten teenage human boys?

Ryan: Okay, smart guy, how do you not fuck everything in sight then?

Zero: Fighting, sparring with Simonchu, and hunting Creepichu takes a lot out of a chu, you know. But it's worth it, considering the price of rampant fucking. I don't want bastard babies.

Ryan: Zero, I hate to cut you off, but get that fucking head out of here, okay?

Zero: It's not rotting. I had it taken to a taxidermist.

Ryan: I don't care. That head's creeping me out, man! *sound of head being tossed back*

Zero: Whatever. *fading footsteps, door closes*

*several moments of silence, door opens*

Michael Snyder: Who the hell was that?

Ryan: One of the two winners of the Carnival of Carnage.

Snyder: Oh. And…what was he carrying?

Ryan: The head of the other winner of the Carnival of Carnage.

Snyder: Jesus. So, do you have my script?

Ryan: Yeah, here. *rustling of papers* Check those over. I'm gonna start the lead-in for now.

*feedback from microphone turning on, "God's Gonna Cut You Down" stops playing*

Ryan: Two…one… *clears throat* Greetings from R-PAT, everyone. This is Patrick Ryan, coming to you live with a special guest on tonight's show. Other than Mary Lee Walsh, this man has been the biggest scapegoat for our dear Mayor Chandler's problems. Tonight, he will be playing himself in a little story I wrote a while back. Ladies and gentlemen, Michael Snyder.

Snyder: It's good to be here, Patrick. Now, let's get started.

Ryan: Right. *laughs* 'Twas the day before Christmas - every chu was full of joy. Even the Sonees, the species' pitiful excuse for a boy.

Ryan: …to place recolor babies in great amounts of stress. They'd search every house and all the Christmas trees, leaving no gifts at all for the spoiled Sonees and Roseys. *laughs* Well, folks, it's time for our first break now. Please enjoy this holiday message from our sponsor!

Dr. Ivo Robotnik (recorded advertisement): Get a load of this, kids! You've seen them in the news! You've seen them on the strrrrrrreet! Maybe you've even seen them in action! And now, for the first time in historrrrrrry, you can own one of the PVCC's many rrrrrridiculously badass land and air vehicles with my all-new set of rrrrrrradio-controlled toys! But you know what they say! The more the merrier! Collect them all! The Crackder! The S.A.V.! The Punislav! The VANguard! Diabolus the Vindicator! The Party Van! Even the legendary Battle Bus, complete with RRRRRREAL BATTLE DAMAGE! All made by your EVIL GENIUS friends at Robotnik Technologies, where no idea is too insane! But you won't find these toys by shopPINGAS usual! Order yours today from your district's PVCC contact, and aid the grrrrrrrowing rrrrrrrrresistance!

Ryan (picking up phone): Vivian, what's going on?

Gee: It seems that KCWC managed to go back online. There's just conflicting static on our end.

Ryan: Can't we just hack into the station's electrical grid?

Gee: Actually…we could. Hold on. I'm redirecting the Devil Troll to access their power supply.

Ryan: All right! Now let's leave KCWC in the dark until we're done!

Gee: Affirmative. Commencing shutdown of electricity to KCWC. And…offline. Go ahead.

Ryan: For the first house he went to, he saw no sign of chus. There was no sign at all, not even a pair of Sonee shoes…

Ryan: …on the moon, Snyder waited, and you can surely bet, the worst for the surviving brats was sure to come yet! From your liberators at the PVCC one and all, Merry CWC-mas, and happy New Year to y'all! *broadcast stops* Well, that went better than expected.

Snyder: You think it worked?

Ryan: Let me check. *dialing on phone*

Gee: Vivian Gee speaking, who is this?

Ryan: Yeah, it's me again. I want to know how our little broadcast worked.

Gee: Even better than we thought. Chandler declared a state of emergency twenty minutes ago. The chus are panicking, we've got reports of mass hysteria in the subdivisions, and the EHPF are swarming the streets looking for Michael Snyder. I must say, you did a good job.

Snyder: Glad I'm in here, then!

Gee: Indeed. Also, I'm happy that no Jerkops were on any missions tonight.

Ryan: I just wonder what happens when they realize it was a hoax.

Gee: They'll be angry, and that's what I'm concerned about.

Ryan: Still, that makes my job easier when the time comes.

Gee: It does. But when they find out that your Hedgeclipper broadcast is real, I don't think you'll make it out of there alive. They'll be coming down on you from everywhere, Patrick. Be careful.

Ryan: Vivian...I'm prepared for that. But, I'd rather die a free man than live as a bitch to those goddamn Sparkies!

Gee: Your spirit far outweighs your abilities. I just hope you realize that before it's too late.

Ryan: I know. At least I'll have some partners with me.

Gee: Actually, change of plans. You'll be going in alone – we need all of our squads for the retaliation. If you can get Zero and the Fighting Irish on your side…

Ryan: Actually, I think there are far more people than you think that are willing to join me.

Gee: I just said we didn't approve of sending Jerkop squads to KCWC until Hedgeclipper's over!

Ryan: Fair enough. I'll see what I can do to get some…unlikely allies on our side. I mean, more than half of our recruits came from the Soup Hotels, right?

Gee: If you want to die surrounded by bums, that's not my concern. Vivian Gee out.

*call ends, long pause, broken only by sound of a lighter flicking*

Snyder: You've got a lot on your mind, don't you, kid?

Ryan: Yeah, but, I gotta keep fighting, you know? For me, for the city, and for the hope that I'll see my family and friends back home someday.

*end recording*

---

"Christmas in CWCville"

Written by Manajerkop

Thursday, December 25, 2008, south CWCville, Slumberland, Honey Badger barracks

"We stand here, today, in the eyes of God and Arceus," Al recited solemnly, keeping his head bowed as Steve, Kevin, Kuri, Allie, Serge, Nate, and Jexis stepped forward one by one to place a candle on the little shrine to the fallen that he had constructed from cinderblocks and scrap metal. "On the day of our lord Jesus Christ's birth, we honor those who fell…our brothers and sisters who died fighting to save our world from those who seek to slaughter the innocent, to subjugate the poor, to crush the human race for the betterment of their own species. We stand here today to honor that which they have given us, to ensure that their sacrifices will not have been in vain."

Silently, the Honey Badgers closed their eyes in respect. It was a yearly tradition for them, but an important one nonetheless. It was a time for sorrow and joy, a time to remember the squadmates they had lost along the way, and all the good times they had spent together in their little family.

"I honor Scott Everett," Al continued, setting his candle beside a scratched engagement ring, "for his strength and fortitude. He gave up everything to save his wife and children, and even his own life was not enough to save them. But his selflessness will never be forgotten, and his family will forever rest in peace, their torment ended and their deaths avenged. We made it so."

"Serge honors Caroline Smith," said Serge. Gripping the candle between two beefy fingers, he placed it down next to an electric guitar string looped through three feral chu teeth – a makeshift necklace. "She was…very good tiny chu hunter. Serge misses her rocking skills and insanity."

"I honor Ricky Malone." Kuri set her own candle by a pair of cracked glasses. "He was there for me whenever I went through a lapse…when I remembered what Chandler did to my family. The chus destroyed his family too, and he always knew exactly what to say to make me feel better."

"I honor Jake Linneman." Placing her candle down, Allie lifted Trogdor's pilot light and touched the tiny flame to the wick, illuminating Jake's old baseball bat. When Linda and Tammy had joined the PVCC, she had immediately given the only remnant of the dead Jerkop's existence back to his squad. "For being one of my best friends and making me feel like part of the team."

"I honor Amanda Taylor." Nate held out a candle that he had set inside one of Amanda's 40mm grenades – hollowed out and defused into a harmless shell. "She saved my little brother's life and the lives of half of the people in this room. Without her, we wouldn't have made it out of the Abyss. I haven't know her as long as any of you, but I'm glad I was there when she was alive."

"We honor Zoey Francesca," said Steve and SUZI together. The LIESA unit had selected a much more somber voice pattern for the occasion, to avoid ruining the mood. Waddling forward, she reached inside her head and withdrew a candle for Steve to light, then hovered over to the shrine and set it beside the last surviving possession of Zoey's – a self-portrait of her, Al, and Steve sitting together on a bench at the ruins of Piedmont College. Steve, however, did not continue. There was simply nothing more that needed to be said about the incredible sacrifice that Zoey had made for her squad, and her unyielding courage that she had displayed even to the end.

"And we honor Matt Clark." Jexis and Kevin finished simultaneously. Matt's candle had been placed by a pair of objects – a lighter and an old mall cop badge from his days working at the Shopping Center with Kevin and Jake. Wordlessly, Jexis picked up the lighter and lit the wick.

"I love you so much, Matt," she murmured, fighting back tears. "I'll always love you, no matter what. I'm going to keep fighting and fighting for you, because I know you're watching. And once the war's over, I'm going to go to medical school so I can keep saving peoples' lives. We've lost enough. I lost you, Matt. I'm never going to forget you…and Matt…I love you."

"Matt," Kevin continued, placing an arm around the blond girl's shoulders as she cried quietly. "I know you're there. I know you can see what I've been doing. And you know damn well why I'm doing this, buddy." He reached out and placed a finger on Matt's badge. "For you. You gave me a purpose, Matt. I know what I have to do now, and everything that happens from here on out is my way of saying…thank you, Matt. Thank you for showing me a way to the end. Thank you for helping me when I needed help the most. But most of all…thank you for being my friend."

Kuri stepped forward and took a deep breath. Her eyes were red with tears, but after a few false starts, she managed to speak the last words of the ceremony – an Arcean prayer very dear to her.

"May Cresselia take you to lands unknown," the young woman whispered. "May Giratina be kind to you. May Dialga and Palkia never stop you…from finding our home with Arceus."

"Amen," said Al, and raised his head. "Everyone…I just want to thank you all. For everything that you've done and everything that you've been through. Honey Badgers…thank you."

"No. Thank you, Al," replied Steve, and patted the Manajerk's shoulder. "We wouldn't be here without you. We wouldn't have come this far. We wouldn't have this opportunity for revenge."

"Hell fucking yes." The Legend pulled his old friend in close, and for a moment, Steve and Al embraced. "Christian Love Day 2009. That's when the hammer falls on 14 Brunchville Lane."

"Speaking of which…" Al grinned and reached for the remote control to the barracks TV. "Who wants to see what our favorite little family got for CWC-mas?"

A groan spread through the seven other Honey Badgers, accompanied by Marty, who had just emerged from the sleeping quarters in his red pajamas. Ignoring the complaints of his squad, the Legend turned on the TV to FQX, then switched over to UMP-TV for the annual A Very Sonichu Christmas with the Sonichu Family program. Much like "Bad Movie Night", this was an annual tradition for the Honey Badgers – forcing themselves to watch how the "other half" of CWCville lived. This year, however, the Jerkops had an ulterior motive for generating so much rage.

And come February 24th, that rage would finally have an outlet.

"…and we're about to go live to 14 Brunchville Lane right now!" announced a voiceover as the sickeningly repulsive last panel of the unfinished Sonichu #11 comic scrolled up the screen. "As you all know, the Sonichu family just loves to share their joy with the city of CWCville, which is why we've been given such a special opportunity to bring you such a special, special moment."

"YAY! PWESENTS!" shrieked a trio of high-pitched voices as the rec room of 14 Brunchville Lane appeared on the screen. Sonichu and Rosechu stood by the fireplace, watching with pride as Cera, Christine, and Robbie waddled toward an immense pile of gifts wrapped in pink, purple, yellow, and battery-blue. The Roseys toddled along steadily, but so great was the eager Sonee's haste that he tripped over his own feet three times in the seven foot journey to the mountain of presents. Even Kevin was sickened by the idea of the three spoiled larvae being lavished with such undoubtedly expensive gifts that they would most likely never use at all. He found himself wishing for the pile to collapse on top of them and snuff out their lives forever.

"Open your presents, darlings!" Rosechu cooed in a repulsively saccharine voice. "You have been such good little children this year; look at all the wonderful gifts that Santa gave you!"

"YAY! WE WUV YOU SANNA CWAWS!"

"Daddeeeeeeeeeeee," Robbie whined, drawing out the last syllable for what seemed like an eternity to the Honey Badgers. He was pawing at a massive box with his little stubs in a frantic attempt to tear open the wrapping paper. "Dis pwesent's too haaaaaaawd fow me ta opwen!"

"Don't worry partner; someday you will be strong enough to open them yourself!" Sonichu knelt down, ruffled his son's soft headspikes, and tore open the paper to reveal a big Lego Police Station set. The Sonee's shrill squeals of joy nearly blew out the TV's speakers then and there.

"YAY! TANK YOU, DADDEE! YAY! YAY!"

Allie glanced at Kevin. "Holy fuck. You went through all that…" Her voice trailed off as she hugged the Jerkop tightly. Kevin hugged her back, glad that at least he didn't have to attend the horrible ceremony of greed and excess from the Sonichu family. He was here, with his friends, and a small pile of well-intentioned presents was a million times more special than the massive load of gifts that Sonichu, Rosechu, and the Combo had heaped upon the Sonee and two Roseys.

By now, Christine had somehow managed to tear open a little package with her stubs, revealing a brand new tortoiseshell mirror with a custom grip made for armstubs. Smiling smugly, she tossed away her old mirror like a piece of trash and admired herself in the new one, then waddled to the next present and began whining at Rosechu to open it for her. Cera had already opened all of her presents – a set of cookie cutters shaped like the Chaotic Combo, a Rosey-sized rolling pin, and a tiny cast iron frying pan that looked like it could only hold a single hamburger at best…a single White Castle hamburger. Not surprisingly, she couldn't even lift it with both armstubs.

Robbie, meanwhile, was plunging through present after present, cheering and screaming with joy as Sonichu unwrapped each one and presented it to the little Sonee. A copy of Elebits for the Nintendo DS, Animal Crossing and Mario & Sonic at the Olympic Games for the Wii, and a brand new pair of little blue plastic running shoes were all met with the same overly enthusiastic yet arrogant excitement, as if Robbie had known that he would always get exactly what he'd wanted, no matter how he behaved. Kevin knew that it wasn't just true…it was Robbie's creed.

As each new gift burst free of its colorful wrapping paper, another wave of fiery anger surged through Kevin's heart. There were people starving out in the cold, freezing in the streets and alleys of the Slum District, Sunnyside, the Factory District, and across all of CWCville. Yet still the family continued their celebration of excess, cheering their great fortune and privilege with every "YAY!" from the children and every saccharine word of praise from their parents.

Finally, an immense heap of wrapping paper lay strewn about the base of the Christmas tree, and only three presents remained – three boxes, each about the size of a microwave, wrapped in pink, purple, and yellow. These had to be Sonichu and Rosechu's big presents, the featured presents, the ones that would no doubt be the ultimate displays of 'affection' from the Electric Hedgehog Pokémon to their hideous, spoiled children. Kevin knew what they were already, but refrained from telling any of his squadmates. Al and Steve needed them all as angry as possible for Operation Hedgeclipper. Without that anger, all the pain and suffering would be for nothing.

"Go on, partner!" Sonichu encouraged Robbie, though the tiny Sonee was already struggling with the bow. His armstubs just weren't meant for grasping things…in fact, it wasn't really clear what they were for at all aside from pushing him up when he tripped. "Come on, open it!"

"You can do it, darlings," crooned Rosechu to Cera and Christine. The former had somehow managed to tangle a ribbon around her own neck, and the latter was whacking her present with the end of her mirror. Unfortunately for every human in CWCville, Cera failed to strangle herself when Rosechu finally extricated her and unwrapped both of the Roseys' presents. Robbie, seeing that his sisters were being assisted, promptly gave up and whined, upon which Sonichu instantly undid the wrapping paper to reveal the final, despicable gift of the Sonichu children.

"YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAY! WE WUV YOU, MOMMEE AN DADDEE!"

"What the FUCK?!" shouted Al, Steve, and Kuri simultaneously as three tiny go-karts, colored in pink, purple, and yellow, appeared from their cardboard boxes. Kevin still couldn't believe it. He hadn't believed it when Sonichu had told him at Christine's play, and he hadn't believed it when Rosechu had told him at the party on the 21st, but there they were, all three of them. The larvae were absolutely ecstatic, waddling around in circles, squealing and shrieking with utter glee, and attempting to pull their fat, dense little bodies onto the karts. They couldn't even get in the seats without the aid of their parents.

"Enough torture, tiny weak men!" Serge slammed his fist down on the table in the center of the room, rattling a collection of 48 shot glasses that had been divided into three sections – one each for himself, Al, and Steve. Each one represented a different member of the squad – Jack Daniels for Al, Bailey's for Jake, vodka for Serge, and so on. "Is time for Honey Badger Shots! DRINK UP, COWARDS! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!"

"WOO!" Kuri gave Steve a fist bump as the blond Jerkop and the Legend hurried over to the table, after switching off the horrors on the TV, of course. "Good luck getting past Jolly Old Satan Nick! That's got tequila and Break You Dead!" She paused and sniffed the air, then dashed off without another word to check on the makeshift wood stove she had been using to cook the Honey Badgers' Christmas dinner for later that evening.

"JAKE SHOT FIRST! JAKE SHOT FIRST! JAKE SHOT FIRST!" chanted Jexis, Nate, and SUZI as one by one, each of the three contestants grabbed the shot glass of Bailey's and downed it in a single gulp. Steve's jaw was set, Al hadn't budged, and Serge…well, no one could really tell with Serge. After a minute to collect themselves, they simultaneously reached for the next glass – the Amanda shot with rum and cinnamon for an explosive combo.

Over at the stove, Kuri hastily pulled on a pair of oven mitts and carefully slid a tray into of the crackling flames. She smiled as the rich scent of chestnuts, mushrooms, and perfectly cooked meat began wafting out of the door, and fanned the smell toward her nose.

"How's that for gourmet, guys?" she asked, glancing at Luxo and Aldo. The Lunatone pulsed once in indifference, while her Murkrow ruffled his feathers hungrily and let out a loud "KAW!" What lay before them in the oven was a single plump homebred Sonee that Kuri had captured in a pre-Christmas raid and stored in a cooler full of ice and snow. Alive. Two days later, she had removed the not-quite-dead-but-too-frozen-to-move baby chu and skinned it…also alive…then rubbed a layer of course sea salt into its raw flesh. What remained of the tortured and prepared Sonee had been folded over a mixture of chopped chestnuts and button mushrooms, then seasoned with a rub and wrapped in pastry dough to create a Chu Wellington. It was the single most difficult dish that Kuri had ever tried to make with chu meat, and certainly the fanciest.

Over by the converted oil drum and brickwork that served as a fireplace, Sugarplum Fury lay curled up in Frank's coils, snug and warm and dozing while the Arbok helped itself to a bowl of miniature "thumb" Sonees and Roseys that Al and Steve had slaughtered and stuffed with a vitamin mix. It was the only way to get Kevin's formerly-malnourished Pokémon the vital nutrients he needed, and so far, Frank was looking much healthier than he had been when the Jerkop had encountered him. Training him had been a long and arduous process, but with a great deal of help from Kuri, the Arbok had quickly adapted to life under its new master.

"How you doing, buddy?" Kevin asked, petting Frank's scaly head as he and Allie sat down to warm up by the fire beside the massive snake Pokémon. He chuckled as the Arbok snatched a tiny dead Rosey in its jaws and swallowed it whole. "Well, someone's enjoying himself!"

"He's not the only one, you know." Allie wrapped a blanket around herself and Kevin, snuggling in close together while the fire crackled before them. "Two more months, Kevin. That's all."

Kevin smiled and hugged her. It had been too long…far too long. "I've got a present for you!"

"Really?" The young woman smiled. "Come on, let's open it! Where is it?"

"Right here." Kevin reached behind Frank and handed over a long, very heavy package. "I know you wanted to be a firefighter, so I thought…why the hell not?"

"Oh, Arceus!" Allie tore open her present, reached in, and emerged grasping a wicked-looking fire axe. Kevin had found it on a trip through the abandoned zone that had led his squad into the district's fire station. It had been too good of a present to not save for later. Allie dropped the axe and hugged him, laughing with joy. "Thank you! Thank you so much, Kevin! It's beautiful!"

"Glad you like it," Kevin replied happily.

"I got you a present too," continued the Jerkop as she passed him a box the size of a large book, wrapped in shiny red paper. "I found it in a Poké Mart a few weeks before you joined up. I've just been holding on to it for a while, but now that you've got Frank, I think it's better with you."

Intrigued, Kevin undid the bow slowly and peeled apart the wrapping paper to reveal a Pokédex, a real Pokédex. Memories of the years before Occupation Day swept through him, drawing him back to a time when the one thing he'd wanted to be was a Pokémon trainer. And after so many years of having his dreams crushed by Chandler and the Electric Hedgehog Pokémon, after going to hell and back, after losing Matt, Jake, Zoey, Amanda, Frank, and so many of his dear friends and comrades, he finally had a Pokémon and a Pokédex of his own.

"Now you've got everything you need," Allie whispered, hugging him as he studied the device.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Kevin asked, and drew her in close. "I already did." His fingers brushed her hair aside, feeling the smoothness where the undamaged skin gave way to her old burn mark. He'd only seen her without it a couple of times, back in 1998, a full ten years ago. Back before the occupation and Sonichu and the Chaotic Combo and all the rest of the despicable chus and their hideous little demon spawn, and all the killing and all the hatred and all the pain and sadness and misery and death. Back when he'd still been a lost teen, peacefully making his way in CWCville.

"You remember when I didn't have it, don't you?" Allie asked, reading his mind as she slid her fingers down from Kevin's fingertips to his wrist, then clasped his hand. "Does it bother you?"

"No," he answered, and reached up to draw her even closer. "You're beautiful."

Before he knew it, their lips touched, and it was as if the world had suddenly become clear again.

"Merry Christmas, Kevin," murmured Allie when they finally broke apart.

Kevin smiled. "Merry Christmas, Allie."