The Big O and all of its settings and characters are owned by Cartoon Network, Sunrise, and Bandai Visual.

THE BIG O Presents:


Forty years ago, Paradigm City lost its memory. Humanity was lost in darkness. No one could remember their friends, their loved ones or their own names. In the chaos that followed, the Paradigm Company emerged as the dominant power, as both God and State. The anniversary of the day they assumed custody of humanity is known as Heaven's Day.

Roger Smith lived in a white tower that was once a bank building. He was tall, handsome, athletic and wealthy. He was young and had a full head of shiny black hair. He drove an expensive car. He was witty and charming and had a personal rule that he always behave as a gentleman. And he was single.

He was also a misanthrope who always dressed like he was going to a funeral. He had a number of quirks concerning his household rules that bordered on the dictatorial. One of the most objectionable of those quirks was an irrational dislike of the biggest holiday of the year: December 25th, Heaven's Day.

Well, nobody's perfect.

This particular December 25th Roger was sitting in the dining room across from a petite teenage girl dressed in a reddish black dress that had a white ruffled collar and formal white cuffs. A set of black stockings and shiny black shoes completed her ensemble. Her red pageboy haircut was immaculate, her bangs broken by a black barrette. They were having a discussion, an argument really. The girl was almost unnaturally calm. This had an aggravating effect on Roger Smith.

"Dorothy, we've been through this; I've made up my mind," he growled. "I don't want to celebrate Heaven's Day. I'm not going to celebrate the day Paradigm took over. I've agreed to a traditional turkey dinner. What more do you want?"

"But Roger, Norman was looking forward to celebrating Heaven's Day this year," the android girl passionlessly protested.

"He'll get over it," the handsome young man grunted. "He's a professional. He's had no time for Heaven's Day. He's been hard at work in the kitchen preparing dinner." He turned in his chair and shouted into the hall. "Hey Norman! Is the turkey ready yet?"

"The only turkey here is you, you big fathead who doesn't like Heaven's Day!" the elderly butler called back.

"I'm sorry, what?" gasped a startled Roger.

"Not to worry, dinner is served Master Roger!" the old man called back. "I'm just putting the gravy on now!"

"Uh okay," Roger muttered as he turned to face the teenage android looking at him from the other side of the table. "Get that look off your face," he growled.

"What do you mean?" the girl asked. "This is the same expression I always have."

Roger frowned at her. It was true. The little redhead's facial expression was the same calm, somewhat dour look she always had, but still…

"I'm just glad that Norman hasn't let your attitude towards the holiday get to him," the girl added.

"Not a word!" Roger pointed a warning finger at Dorothy.

Norman rolled the meal out on a serving cart and set a large covered platter in front of Roger. Norman Burg was a tall gangly old man wearing an archaic tuxedo with a starched collar. The elderly fellow's sparse white hair didn't cover his balding pate, but he did sport a magnificent handlebar mustache. A black eyepatch covered his left eyesocket. He pulled the lid to reveal a magnificent turkey, cooked golden brown to perfection.

"Wow, Norman, you really outdid yourself!" Roger smiled.

"I should hope so you ungrateful jacknapes!" the old man grumbled. "You wouldn't know gratitude if it ran up and bit you on the behind!"

Roger blinked in shock. He shook his head and tried to figure a way to respond. "Uh, excuse me?"

"Thank you Master Roger," the old man smiled genially. "It's always nice when one's efforts are appreciated."

"Well it looks delicious," Roger hesitantly smiled. "Let's dig in."

"You should be digging in a trough you filthy pig," Norman snorted. "I could serve you table scraps, you wouldn't know the difference!"

"Now hold on now!" Roger held up a warning palm.

"Here you go, Master Roger," Norman said gently as he carved off a drumstick. "I know how much you like dark meat."

"Thank you Norman," Roger murmured while keeping a wary eye on his valet.

"Oh 'thank you' says the high and mighty chairman of Paradigm!" Norman sneered. "Thank you mighty lord for acknowledging some of us unworthy peasants!" he added sarcastically. "Is there any other way I may I kiss your ass, your majesty?"

"Hey! Are you going to keep-?"

"Think nothing of it Master Roger," Norman purred cheerfully. "Would you care for some cranberries to go with that?"

"No I'd like—!" Roger stopped himself, took a deep breath, drummed his fingers and counted to ten. "I'd like some stuffing if that's okay."

"Stuff it yourself you lazy ponce!" Norman growled.


"Here you go sir," the elderly butler said as he served his young master. "The stuffing. Anything else sir?"

"Norman, even though I can't really eat much I'll have some tea for appearance's sake," Dorothy called from her side of the table.

"Of course Miss Dorothy," the old man nodded. "Right away my dear."

After the elderly valet went back to the kitchen Dorothy spoke. "I warned you that Norman wanted to celebrate Heaven's Day this year."

"I'll get the bottom of this," Roger muttered.

Norman returned with Dorothy's tea. "Here you are Miss Dorothy," he said as he placed the cup and saucer in front of her.

"Oh Norman," Roger called with exaggerated calm.

"What is it now, you great pillock?" Norman growled as he turned to face Roger.

"Norman, I can't help noticing that you're being rude and then polite to me alternatively," Roger announced sternly.

"Really?" the old man asked innocently. "I'm terribly sorry to hear that sir!"

Roger sighed and chuckled sheepishly. "I suppose I deserve it for spoiling your Heaven's Day. It's all right Norman. I guess it doesn't matter."

"Tough titty if it did you lousy spoilsport!"