Chapter 5 – The Phantom?

JD and Cox stared blankly at the specially colored trees of the Crime City's annual Christmas tree lot. Some were red, pink, yellow, purple and even plaid and polka dotted; but not a single one of them was the standard green Christmas pine tree. Cox rapped his knuckles against one of them and it clanged like metal. "So, tell me, Newbie," he said, "if a tree falls in the middle of a forest and no one around hears it, does that make you still a dumbass?"

"Yes," JD answered. "Wait, no! I mean – ugh! Oh, good grief!" He moaned, slapping his hand over his forehead. "Okay, I just have to concentrate and I'm sure I'll find the perfect tree." JD picked up a little runt of a shrub that barely even had any pine needles clinging to its few branches. "Found it!" he declared, grinning cheerfully.

Cox frowned disapprovingly but JD bought the tree unabatedly. "Janet, your concentration…it just astounds me! I can honestly say that I have never seen one quite like yours."

"Thanks, Dr. Cox," JD said cheerfully, completely oblivious to Cox's obvious sarcasm.

"And your perception's pretty beyond belief, too," he added.

---

The tall and insane Janitor and the tiny but mischievous Bloo leisurely walked down the street, the Janitor's feet crunching deep into the inch of snow. Both were without a care in the world even though they should be rushing to and from the costume shop back to the Golden Soul Theater, where Arthur was most likely slamming his misbegotten forehead on a desk repeatedly. When they finally reached their destination, Bloo asked, "Hey, Janitor, is that House over there?"

The Janitor, generally surprised by Bloo's question, turned to face the direction Bloo was pointing. Indeed, there he was: House was lugging some heavy shopping bags through the thick snow on the street across from theirs. "What's ol' Limpy up to?" he muttered.

"Well, I think-"

"Ah-ah-ah!" The Janitor slapped his hand over Bloo's mouth. "That was a rhetorical question that I'm supposed to ask to make things more mysterious and suspenseful before the initial confrontation with whom we are speaking of."

After the Janitor removed his hand Bloo grumbled, crossing his arms, "I knew that! I was just testing you."

"Oi, you!" he shouted across the street, completely ignoring his companion and stomping to House.

House looked down and up the street. "Oh, I'm sorry. I believe you've mistaken my name as 'you'."

"Can the wisecracks, House," the Janitor said, his hands in his jacket's pockets in a businesslike manner. Bloo looked at him and tried to mimic him but he was lacking a jacket of his own. Instead, he took off his scarf, wrapped it around his waist, and inserted his hands into that. "Whatcha doin' with those bags?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?" he said. "I was Christmas shopping."

Bloo and the Janitor exchanged baffled glances. "I thought you hated Christmas?" Bloo queried.

"No, that's just the character I play," he responded.

"What character?"

"Scrooge?" House said slowly, raising an eyebrow. Bloo stared blankly. "From A Christmas Carol? Written by Charles Dickens? Involves ghosts? Often adapted into movies and television specials around the holiday season? The very play we're putting on at the theater, where we've been rehearsing for the past few weeks? Any of that ring a bell?"

Bloo rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Hmm…sounds familiar…. Nope! I have no idea what you're talking about."

House and the Janitor slapped their hands over their eyes. "Anyway…why are you Christmas shopping?" the Janitor asked. "Mind if we have a peek inside of them bags of yours?"

He shrugged. "Be my guest."

The Janitor and Bloo dug into the bags, finding various presents with tags that had the names of all their friends attached. "Okay, for the first time in my life, I'm confused," Bloo declared.

"I know you, House," the Janitor said. "You never do anything unless it involves a mystery that intrigues you and/or has something for you in the end. What're you up to?"

"Nothing," he answered simply. "Just spreading around the Christmas spirit! Speaking of which." House reached deep into one of his bags and pulled out two presents, which he handed to Bloo and the Janitor. "Have yourselves a Merry Christmas!" He grinned delightfully as he walked back to the theater, leaving two very confused pranksters.

"Bloo?" the Janitor finally said after a long lapse of time.

"Yes, Janitor?"

"Are the Four Horsemen in the sky?" he asked.

"Why do you ask?"

"'Cause I think the Apocalypse is upon us," the Janitor answered frankly.

---

Trillian and Rika were making girl-talk when they spotted Arthur crouching down behind a large wooden box, holding a string in his hand. "Oh, boy…" Trillian groaned, rolling her eyes. She and Rika walked over and also squatted down behind the box, each beside Arthur. "So, what are you doing?"

"Shh!" he shushed. "I'm waiting for the Phantom of the Golden Soul Theater to fall for my trap," he answered quietly, smiling eagerly.

"Er, how are you going about that?" Rika asked in a hushed tone, which she wasn't sure why she was using.

"Look." Arthur pointed to a big, empty crate being held up by a tree branch with a string stretching back to Arthur and a little piece of paper beneath the crate with the words IMPORTANT PLAY THING written on it.

Rika and Trillian's eyelids half closed disapprovingly. The two stood up and walked away. "Good luck with that," Trillian said lifelessly.

To much of their surprise, the sound of a crate slamming down reached their ears. "See? See!" Arthur exclaimed, hopping up and down excitedly and pointing at the crate trembling with something trapped inside. "It worked! You didn't believe me, but it worked! Suck on THAT, ladies!" He jabbed a finger in their direction, cackling wildly.

"Damn," Rika and Trillian stated.

"All right, Mr. Phantom," Arthur said, rubbing his hands together sinisterly. "Let's just see who you ARE!" On his last word, Arthur lifted the crate and balked. "BART!"

"Sorry, pajama-man," the impish Bart Simpson smirked deviously. "I'm not actually the Phantom. Just tricked the trap to piss ya off."

"Why, you little-!" Arthur wringed Bart's neck furiously. "I'll…show…you…for…making me…look like an idiot!" he snarled. Rika and Trillian wearily sighed.

End of Chapter 5

NL: All right, I was going to continue the chapter with the next part in the play, but realized it wouldn't work unless the Ghost of Christmas Past was there! So I decided to cut if off here with a short chapter and start it off in the next one.