As the holidays roll in, we of the prankster universe try to post 'holiday specials' to amuse the hundreds of our viewers out there, to show our appreciation of the holiday spirit. This title may seem similar to the Peanuts Classic, "Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown." Aside from the Christmas tree, there are absolutely no similarities between that classic and this story. Without further ado, please enjoy!

'Twas the day before Christmas, and all through the Mother of Invention, nobody was resting in their preparations for the holidays. Everyone was doing their last-minute Christmas shopping and ordering cheap gifts for outlandish prices to gift to their friends and family. Wyoming had almost gone crazy from all the requests for smuggled goods, and all the girls turned up with bits of wrapping paper, glitter, and ribbon in their hair because they were the only people on the ship who could decently wrap a gift (and keep a secret).

However, one dilemma came up rather quickly that needed to be addressed…

"What do you MEAN, you've never had a Christmas tree?" York shouted at Wash, who ducked his head as if to dodge the words.

"I grew up in Utah," Wash pointed out. "Far Eastern Utah. Where there are no trees."

"Well, how did you celebrate Christmas?" South asked.

"We decorated a tumbleweed and put presents under it," Wash explained with a shrug. "It always blew away, so we never had really fancy ornaments."

"Didn't you at least burn a holiday Yule log?"

"Oh, you mean our annual holiday cactus toasting?" Wash asked, and South face-palmed.

"Dude, you have lived a very sheltered life," Texas said, shaking her head sadly.

"I won't tell you how we celebrated Easter, then."

An hour later, North and York took an excursion down to the nearest planet with 479r, and started looking through droves of evergreen trees.

"Good idea with distracting Wash by having him watch 'Merry Christmas, Charlie Brown,'" North conceded to York, who gave a mock bow as they started looking for a proper Christmas tree.

"My pleasure. Now, what are the parameters that the Director set for us for the tree?" he asked. North pulled out a slip of paper and shook it open, his eyes becoming even more disbelieving as he continued to read.

"The tree can't be any higher than six feet, can't have more than 40 branches, must be entirely bug free, and have a 64 degree tilt at the top…what the hell?!"

"It's the Director, North," York pointed out. "Don't try and make sane the crazy."

"Fair point."

They continued searching for a tree for the next six hours, going through endless rows of various evergreens, trying to find the most pathetic specimen that they could pass as a Christmas tree.

"This one?"

"Too many branches."

"How about-"

"58 degree tilt, not 64."

"What-"

"Beetle infestation."

It seemed that no tree fit the bill, until they had walked for endless miles and had gotten to the very last tree in their row.

"You know?" York said, staring at the tree in front of him. "I think this HAS to be it."

"You sure?" North asked, reaching for his back.

"Positive," York nodded. With a flourish, North grabbed Maine's stolen Bruteshot from his back and started hacking at the tree. "First, do you have a grudge against the tree? Second, how did you get Maine's Bruteshot?"

"Doesn't matter," North grunted as he slammed the blade into the tree trunk with a vengeance, smiling triumphantly as the puny evergreen gave a snap and fell over into the snow. "Come on, we have a long walk back."

"What the hell?!" York complained as he hoisted their 'Christmas tree.' "Why can't we just ask 479r to fly us back?"

"Oh, I covered her Pelican with sticky notes that had smiley faces on them a few weeks ago because I was bored," North responded in a matter-of-fact voice. "It was a stretch to get her to fly us down here and wait for us to fly back."

"You got the catalog that I asked for?" Texas asked as Florida and Wyoming came into her room.

"You mean these?" Florida held out the box in his arms for Texas to examine.

"Nope," she decided soundly, shoving the box back. "Wrong ones."

"Come on!" Florida complained. "These are healthy-"

"We're NOT giving poor, sheltered Agent Washington thousands of boxes of candy in those catalogs!"

Florida sniffed and backed away, while Texas looked in Maine's box. "Or knitting catalogs."

"All the other soldiers grabbed the Christmas catalogs!" Florida complained. "How are we going to order him a gift in time?"

"By adding onto someone's workload. Come on," Texas beckoned, and they went in search of a certain smuggler.

"No."

"Come on, Wyoming!" South hissed at the white Freelancer, who had his arms folded. "Can't you get this list up as a priority?"

"I said no, South," Wyoming snapped at her. "I already have seventeen other orders to fill without having to worry about our dear Agent Washington truly experiencing a traditional Christmas."

"Wyoming," Texas came up. "If we don't make this as traditional as possible, then we're going to have to make sure that Washington has a cactus and a tumbleweed on hand so that he CAN have his version of Christmas."

"…I see your point," Wyoming conceded, pulling out a tablet. "What did you have in mind?"

Carolina floated through the air seamlessly, looping shiny tinsel and decorations onto the beams of the ceiling and taping it along the walls. She had asked for the artificial gravity to be turned off temporarily so that she could help decorate the hall. Appropriately, music from "The Nutcracker" rang through FILSS' speakers.

CT came floating up with an armful of ornaments and did a pirouette in midair, twirling around Carolina playfully as she hung the ornaments on the strings of tinsel already strung up. Carolina did a graceful front flip and caught two ornaments, continuing to string them up. Now, the theme from "Sleeping Beauty" was playing throughout the ship.

CT and Carolina continued their anti-gravity ballet, shortly joined by Maine. He began doing some unseemly twirls and flips, pinning paper snowflakes to the ceiling. The three agents finished the decorating as they continued to dance in midair, having the time of their lives.

Right at the finale of the song…

"INCOMING!" Someone shouted, and a rather pathetic specimen of an evergreen collided with CT, just as the gravity was turned back on.

"Sorry!" York apologized to CT, who shoved off the tree that was attempting to crush her. Maine walked over to North, slapped him upside the head, and retrieved his Bruteshot.

"What do you think?" North asked, displaying the Christmas tree that he and Florida had decorated. The other Freelancers gaped.

"It's so…" Wyoming started.

"Well…" Texas trailed off.

"That looks like crap," South was kind and spoke what everyone was thinking. "Why couldn't we have an ACTUAL tree?"

"Director's orders, South," North replied sheepishly, while York came over and experimentally poked the tree. The five-foot-eleven plant tipped dangerously, weighed under with a total of ten ornaments, one measly string of tinsel, a string of malfunctioning Christmas lights, and a bent foil star on the top. "It's the best that we could do, given the circumstances."

"What's everyone doing?" Wash asked, poking his head into the rec room. He froze when he saw the tree.

"Merry Christmas, Agent Washington!" Everyone shouted excitedly at the sight of their friend. The force from their shout caused the tree to keel over pathetically.

"Oh, you guys!" Wash exclaimed happily, tears brimming in his eyes. Everyone crowded around for a group hug. They ruffled his hair, clapped him on the back, and said their greetings (Tex and Carolina each gave him a kiss on the cheek). Presents were shoved into his arms while people started singing Christmas carols. Presents were unwrapped (Wash gawked at all the Christmas-themed socks and kitten pictures that everyone decided to get him since they didn't know what else he wanted), homemade eggnog was passed around (note to self: Wyoming spiked the eggnog), and they all sat around the tree and chatted jovially.

"So, Wash?" Carolina sidled up to the blonde man, who was slightly flushed from the alcoholic eggnog. "Is this Christmas better than back in Utah with a cactus roasting on an open fire?"

"This is the best Christmas ever," Wash agreed. "Of all time."

"A time of peace and happiness," North toasted them, holding up his coffee cup of eggnog.

"A time where we can live in harmony," CT added. "No prank wars or anything."

"Not…quite," Wash said hesitantly, and the others stared at him hesitantly. "We did observe ONE typical Christmas tradition back home that I set up while you guys were gone preparing this. Look up."

Everyone craned their necks to look at the ceiling, and gaped. The entire ceiling was covered in-

"MISTLETOE?" Everyone shouted, looking at the expanse of entire mistletoe bushes disguised in the rafters.

"Yep," Wash nodded. "Merry Christmas, you guys!"

Nobody said anything for a good long while. Then…

"WASH! GO STAND IN THE CORNER!"

Wash stood up and went to his Corner while everyone stared around, not very eager to kiss another person at the moment.

"A Merry Christmas to you too," Wash grumbled, while the pathetic excuse of a Christmas tree tipped over as he passed, itself mortified by Wash's prank.

The Corner of Shame (aka the Corner of Wash) strikes again! Prank idea for this chapter comes from Freelancer Mississippi.

I wish you all a happy holidays around the world, and goodwill to all!

Sincerely,

anna1795