"They say he was the first child of Jardiniero, and that he became corrupted by red and black candy. And when a Pinata gets sick…he comes with his stick and…"

"STOP!" Fergy Fudgehog cried, making Hudson Horstachio stop midway of his false stick swinging.
"Come on Ferg! It's just a story!" Paulie Pretztail added, trying to calm the Fudgehog down for the moment.
"It's almost Christmas! I don't want to be scared on Christmas!" Fergy complained, breaking out into a fudge smelling sweat.
"But it's the only story I know! It complements my dramatic acting ability!" Hudson proclaimed, striking a daring pose.
"I don't care! Now I'm so scared I'm hungry!" Fergy cried. He walked off to the kitchen of his house, leaving the others to trash it as always.

"I tell you, Fergy is such a 'fraidy-floss sometimes…" Paulie commented, referencing the Kittyfloss piñata.
"Well, it was kind of the wrong story for Christmas, bra." Franklin Fizzlybear added, being surprisingly wise.
"I guess I should apologize." Hudson sighed, walking to the kitchen with slumped shoulders.

"Hey, Ferg. I'm sorry I scared you, it's just…" Hudson stopped when he got around the corner and saw Fergy lying on the floor of the kitchen, looking greener than usual.
"I don't feel so good…" he whined.

Later, at Dr. Quincy Quackberry's office, as he was the only cheap doctor in town, Fergy was being checked out.
"Yep, it's as I feared. He either ate a mushroom or something that disagreed with him. Being in that stomach of his I'd disagree too…"
He scribbled some nonsense on a pad of paper…no one said he was a real doctor, and told Fergy to stop eating.
"Might as well tell him to chop off an arm." Pauile remarked with a grin.

Back at his house, and bedridden, Fergy had a lot of time to think. And what he thought wasn't good.
"What if what Hudson said was real? What if…"
No! Fergy wouldn't have it! He wouldn't let his imagination run away with him.

Still…

Meanwhile, Langston Lickitoad was plotting. He was bound to get Fergy to go to a party, even if it meant having to resort to the unorthodox to do so.
It didn't help matters that he had a special birthday request. Who would have a birthday on Christmas was beyond him. He just knew that everyone else had already asked for the holiday off enough in advance that he couldn't come up with an excuse to get them to a party if he wanted to.
Well, everyone but Fergy. Seems that he was so lazy, he forgot the only escape route from his worst fear. And that was what made him the only one available for a party.

Despite Fergy being sick, it had to be done…

"The only thing that I haven't resorted too is…"
Langston stopped and smiled.
It was crazy, and completely dangerous. But as foolish as his plan was, if he was successful he would only have to do it once.

"This is why you shouldn't stuff your face when you're depressed." Paulie stated as he tended to the Fudgehog.
"I can't help it! I'm always hungry!" Fergy defended.
Paulie sighed. Sometimes he wondered how he even became friends with this guy. He was a louse, sometimes annoying, and hardly sensitive.
Yet, there were some redeemable qualities about him…enough so to warrant the others being his friends.

"Do you think it's true?" Fergy asked, hiding his nose with the blanket.
"What?"
"The story…you know…the one Hudson told?"
"Nah. I don't believe it, and neither should you!" Paulie commanded, jerking the cover back to its proper place.
"It's just, I don't wanna be splattered…for good!"
"Stop scaring yourself and get some rest!" Paulie ordered, and turned to leave.
"You're not gonna leave me here alone are you?"
"On Christmas with Petunia waiting? You bet!" Paulie replied, and dashed off.

"Hrumph!" Fergy scoffed, and rolled over, pulling the blankets over his head.

Later that night, all was quiet. Too quiet for Fergy's liking, as any random noise made his heart race faster.
Finally tiring of his fear, he tried to get some sleep. But it didn't last long.

Faint singing could be heard in the distance…and it began to lull Fergy into a deeper sleep as he began to calm down.
The singing grew louder as whoever it was came closer. Fergy smiled at the soothing song, and opened his groggy eyes to see a man in a red and yellow mask standing over him, with a rather large stick held over his head.

Fergy's screaming could be heard all the way to the piñata factory.