TITLE: Variations On A Carol 1/1 AUTHORS: Sam )
RATING: PG FEEDBACK: I get to write twice a year. Humor me.
DISCLAIMER: All established characters (Micki, Ryan, Jack, Johnny, Lewis etc....) belong to Frank Mancuso, Jr. Kate Brannigan is a creation of Karen. I just borrow her for fun.
TIMELINE: Post "If You Could...".
EXPLANATION: Okay, since I'm still getting this in my reviews, I'll put it here. This is the TV SERIES section of These stories are based on the TV SHOW FRIDAY THE 13TH: THE SERIES which had NOTHING to do with Jason. So if you've never seen the show, please don't post a review asking where Jason is. He's not here. Go look for him in the movie section where the rest of those stories should be posted. And to those who review my stories knowing what the show is, I thank you whole heartedly.

Merry Christmas, Karen.


Kate Brannigan dove behind an alleyway trash can and covered her head. Ryan Dallion was on the street behind a car with Johnny Ventura, who was screaming into a cell phone. "We could use a clue here, Jack!"

"Ain't that the truth," Kate thought. As she shifted her weight, the thick layer of ice and snow crunched beneath her. A split second later, an ax came crashing through the lid of the can. Wasting no time, Kate was on her feet making a mad dash for Ryan and Johnny. She heard the thing desperately trying to extract the ax from the lid as she slid next to them. "Now what," she asked breathlessly.

Johnny slammed the cell phone shut. "Jack doesn't know. He says that this is unprecedented."

Ryan sighed. "I don't know. I saw it in a movie once."

"Oh please," Kate whispered.

"What? I'm not saying it was good or anything..."

"No! Look, we have to be rational about this. We've been staking out that house for twelve hours. It's below freezing, snowing out and I'm not sure what the special ingredient was that you put in the hot chocolate..."

Ryan smiled, but said nothing.

"But we can't possibly be seeing what we're seeing. It's not possible. And I realize that, given what we do on a daily basis, that's not a phrase that comes out of us. But this... it's not possible." With that, Kate looked over the hood of the car. It was possible. There he stood in a cursed magician's hat. And a corn-cob pipe, a button nose, two eyes made out of coal... and wielding one wicked looking ax. She looked back at her friends. "Ok, it's possible. Run!" The three took off down the street as the snowman took a swing at their heads.

"Okay," said Johnny, "so the kid made a snowman. Then he must have gone in the house, found the hat in his brother's room and figured it was perfect for his snowman."

"And now we're running through the snow covered streets of Chicago from an ax wielding Frosty from hell. Anyone got any bright ideas," Ryan screamed.

Kate looked desperately around her, then slid to a halt. Johnny collided with her and when Ryan hit, they went down in a heap of arms and legs.

"What the hell did you stop for?" Ryan demanded.

Without saying a word, she shoved her hand into one of Ryan's pockets, grabbed something and ran to the other side of the street. The snowman, shuffling and crunching through the wintry blanket, turned to follow her. Kate's momentum slammed her into the wall and she turned over onto something that she quickly grabbed.

"Kate," the boys screamed.

As the snowman raised his ax, Kate spun around. Suddenly there was a flame aimed right at his head.

Ryan checked his pocket. "She took my zippo."

The snowman screamed as the homemade blow torch did it's work. After a minute, the magician's hat was sitting in the middle of a large puddle.

Ryan and Johnny got up slowly and approached her. "Hairspray can?"

She held it up. "Spray paint."

Johnny nodded. "Very MacGyver-esque of you." He paused. "What if it had been empty?"

Kate just stared at him.

"Right. Gift horse... got it."

Ryan bent over and picked up the hat. "Have I mentioned lately that I hate winter?"

Kate tucked her arms through the arms of her friends. "I say we deserve a vacation."



"Virgin Islands?" "Sold," the boys said as they walked back to the shop for a (hopefully) uneventful Christmas Eve.