No, you are not mistaken; this is a new chapter for this story. I just took chapter five and formed it together with more of what I wrote for this story…so if you already read the first part of this story, please skip ahead to where the original chapter five left off.

I also edited the first part of what was chapter five, so you can re-read this if you'd like. :3

You can probably observe of where my writing has gotten better in this story…

I do not own any of the characters in the movie "How the Grinch Stole Christmas", except for the red baby Who, thanks~

"It is not flesh and blood but the heart which makes us fathers and sons"

~Johann Schiller

IN THE TOWN OF WHOVILLE, the town was bustling with activity. Everywhere you looked had chattering Who's of both genders. Everyone seemed chipper, as if dancing around life's problems without a care. All seemed fine in the world, life was great, but for one Who—of What, if you'd like to call him—was not. Who was this creature you ask? Who was this Who that could not join in with other Who's joy? Ask any Who in Whoville, one name would slip their tongue. A name people feared, snickered at, or shied away from when said. A green, hairy creature with blazing, gold irises that held so much pain, sadness, and emptiness in its cradle—this Who was a creature who was feared by all. One simple "boo" that would escape the creatures pinkish lips could make a whole city of Who's shy away from in fear. This was truly a treacherous 'monster.' But who is it, you may ask? Who fits the description of this horrifying monster—The Grinch?


Music sang out in a beautiful beat out of a horn of a clarinet while others played along with different instruments. All musicians were cued on to play by a conductor who was adorned in a green, yellow, and red outfit that fit rather snuggly. Though there was not a single sign of discomfort on the man's face as his hands danced out in front of him as one hand pinched a thin, small, black wand. The conductor who wore a cheeky grin on his florid, chubby face as he walked backwards in front of the band marched through the snow coated streets as bystanders danced along with joyous smiles blossomed across their faces. Some Who-children skipped along behind the band, twirling and laughing.

The Grinch watched on from the side, not liking the sounds he was hearing emoting from the instruments. In fact he hated the music; it seemed as if it was burning his ears! Scowling towards the gay Who-people and the band, he marched off into a different, less crowded street in Whoville.

You may question as to why, dear reader, the people of Whoville did not scream away in fear of the Grinch's face as he walked down the streets. Well, instead of just walking around practically naked (his hair does cover necessary places), he was dressed in a not-so-fancy cloak with a cream-colored, buck-teethed, flimsy plastic mask that looked like a Who, in a very odd, twisted way. His partner that walked on four legs beside him was his dog Max. But in the Grinch's arms however was a baby Who, well…. a hairy red one. Though the hair was covered in blankets found in the pumbersella that this Who was delivered in. The blankets by now were thawed out and back to their warm fuzzy-ness, a good thing for the Grinch because if not for that, he wouldn't have anything for this baby to be covered in.

You might as well ask as to why The Grinch was down in Whoville instead of in his lair inside Mt. Crumpit, well… let's just begin and say that The Grinch was growing tired of this thing that came down to his self-proclaimed mountain. What drove his feet down to this village was the growing ache and questions that pummeled it into his brain about the child held in his grasp. Why did he care about it? Why did he care for its safety? The Grinch also had peculiar feelings swelling inside of him, starting in his stomach all the way through his heart…the feeling was absolutely sickening. Worse part about it was that he didn't know what the feeling was. The feeling was sort of in a way like his feelings towards Martha May Whovie, but different as it was not romantic emotions.

"Excuse me!" a rather deep female's voice broke him out of his thoughts as he accidently ran into her. The woman he ran into had her hand placed on her chest, gaping at him. "Well…aren't you going to apologize for so rudely bumping into me?"

The Grinch growled lowly in irritation before rolling his eyes…though the woman couldn't see him do that action. "I don't believe I say sorry to anyone" he growled.

The woman gasped at what he said, "Excuse me? Well, I never... I never met a Who as rude as you, sir!"

The Grinch just walked off without a word, attempting to ignore her comment following his departure, "such a bad role model for his child," and paying more attention to where he was walking. Usually he wouldn't mind purposely running into a couple of pedestrians, but at this moment, he just wanted this baby in his arms out of his hair.

Looking up at him with two shimmering pools of green, the baby Who's stare became half-massed as she watched her disguised hero tower over her. Reaching up with one small scarlet hand that was covered in a layer of fur, she tugged on the mask veiling the Grinch's face with a short line of burbles escaping her rosy lips that drooled out saliva from the corner of her mouth. Looking down with an invisible glare that escaped the newborns stare from the mask, he grumbled out a train of curses as his hand pushed away the younger child's strong grip.

"No tugging on the mask," he warned with a small wave of his index finger which quickly became encircled in the bone-crushing grasp of the baby who squealed in delight from her won prize. Shaking his head with a soft grunt, the Grinch didn't bother removing his finger from the small female who stared up at the hairy green finger in wonder. "You're certainly an odd child," his cheeks became dusted in a blush of pink as an odd warm feeling pooled into his stomach, causing him to flinch from its intensity.

"U-um, s-sir…" a soft voice from below brought back his attention to the outside world, but not before causing him to jump in surprise from the sudden murmur.

Looking down in the direction of his feet, two small eyes the color of winter moss looked up at him behind a long hanging curtain of bronze hair that shined and clumped from grease. Skin a pasty white with black circlets encircling its sunken eyes, the child reached up with an arm that looked as if its bones would pop out of its skin, the boney adolescent showed off decaying yellowed teeth in a smile that had gaps in some parts from a missing tooth. "C-could'ja spares some m-money to the less fortunate…" pulling up the sagging sleeve of a ragged cloth that pathetically served as clothing up its shoulder, the Grinch found himself almost pitying the kid as he saw the small figure held the burdens of Whoville's imperfections on its small, thin shoulders – sort of like him in a way.

After a mental slap to his mind from the emotions festering inside of him, the Grinch attempted to recollect himself with a struggle as the sight before him continued to draw out the foreign sympathy towards the younger one. Turning his head to the side with a snort, the Grinch rolled his shoulders back as his invisible stare wandered off to the free-falling clouds that sprinkled the world in white. Snow leaked off from the lip of the child's eye lash that continued to gaze up at the disguised man with an air of innocence and naivety.

"Look kid, I don't exactly have anything that could benefit you with anything, so scram." He became surprised that the child seemed unaffected from his words, but instead continued to look up at him but in conformity and sympathy while its body quavered in the bite of the cold. Out of his peripheral view the Grinch felt his heart flutter at the feeble appearance of the youngster.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" He seemed surprised from the question passed through blue, cracked lips of the small one at his feet. "Your heart…its hurts…You may deny it at first, but it's there."

He snorted while turning his head to the side, gazing over at his dog that looked up at him with brown, milky eyes that caused him to swallow hard.

The image of a charlatan of the man before it shattered, only leaving the site of someone who held the carved figure of a man casted out of society, whose person was morphed from Who-manity's cynical, feeble-minded citizens that's propulsion towards others differences formed him to his current state. Reaching up to the Grinch's now free and hanging palm, the small child's fingers embraced the hand as white-cotton flurries melted on its small stub of a vibrant pink nose. "But…you have that child there for you, the one in your arms…a gift from the skies as the Who-God's took sympathy on your aching heart and sent the baby to you to help heal your aching wounds…" Closing away irises that drifted between the shade of green and gray with ghastly lids, the child blushed while reveling in its fever, "Don't let their gift to you go in vain…" The small Who backed away from the disguised man, releasing its embrace on the hairy grip of the green What, the child beamed up at him with snowflakes gluing themselves to the long clumped traces of brown hair.

He looked down with furrowed brows, "I cannot learn to love or cherish…"

The child still held its almost toothless smile towards him, "Maybe part of loving is learning to let go."

The new, more better chapter of "Whoville" is here~ I hope everyone likes it. I loved writing this, and after watching the movie "Keif" it has raised a new arising inspiration for this story.

The child actually says a quote I found online and made due of working it in here, it's by: From the television show The Wonder Years.

So the little Who in here is not specified to be neither boy or girl as it's a minor character that will most likely be cut from this story. Next chapter will have the revealing of the baby's name and more~

Hopefully I can get some of my old readers back…umm...I'm going to be writing the next chapter today.