The Domain
The price of citizenship is still, to some extent, your personal freedom.
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Uh, Merry Christmas?

Yes, I know it's early, but I'm not going to be around much for the next few days, and I won't have time for long conversations/Internet at all today and tomorrow. Ah, relatives.

Anyway, here's T/D's Christmas present. I'm sorry if I didn't write one with you in it. I had several more planned but ran out of time/couldn't figure out who to put in it. Some suck, some rock. Ctrl+F to scroll down until I get links up. (K: I linked them!)

Q!Edit: While this was originally just for my Christmas project, we're expanding it to put every story/poem/song that anyone's written about T/D here. We'll slowly be finding them and moving them here. Feel free to contribute!

Table of Contents

Princess Blaire

Snow One and Rose Two

Little Rayne Riding Hood

Tucker Leah and the Five Dwarves



The Twelve Dancing Princesses

The Knitter's Justice

Princess Kyota

The Domain's Christmas Carol (from 2008! ...Right?)

Bludolph, the Completelywithoutasenseofdirection Reindeer (2009, I think?)

12/24/2010 . Edited by Ky-lassassin, 4/17/2012 #1

Princess Blaire

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a poor farmer named Robert, who lived with his wife, Silver, in a small farming village. He had been in the kingdom's army for a long time, and the pay was good, so they wanted for nothing except a child to fill their days with wonder. As fate would have it, Silver found herself pregnant very soon. She craved a variety of foods that her husband brought to her, from pickles to curry. Soon she began to gain weight, and could no longer sit so low as to milk the cow.

One day, while her husband was out in the cowshed doing the tedious task, the young wife looked out the window and into her neighbor's garden. There, sitting by themselves, was the most beautiful cluster of coffee plants that the young wife had ever seen. Her whole pregnancy she had not craved even a sip of coffee. Now, she craved it more fiercely than anything she had ever wished to eat. When her husband came in with the milk bucket, Silver rushed over and asked of him to get her the coffee berries. With the weary sigh, her husband stole away in the night and robbed their neighbor of as much coffee as he could carry. He went back the next night, and the next, and the next, until he had enough coffee to last her through her pregnancy. His wife drank the coffee gratefully, endlessly thanking her husband and offering to share it with him. He simply shook his head, and sighed, wishing the whole ordeal to be over.

In the final month of the pregnancy, the young wife heard the door burst open and ran into the foyer, brandishing her husband's crowbar, while he himself held a fireplace poker. The visitor's face twisted into a snarl as she opened her mouth and pointed accusingly at the young wife. "You and your husband have been stealing my coffee plants!" her neighbor snarled. "They are magic coffee plants, and sell for a very good price. You owe me much money."

"Lolno," Robert answered, raising the poker a little higher. The woman laughed and pulled some dust from her pocket and blew it toward the young husband. To his horror, the poker turned to dust in his hand. She was a witch.

"Uh, shit," the young wife said eyes wide with fear. The witch turned upon the young wife and eyed her belly greedily.

"If you give me your child," the witch said slowly, advancing on the wife, "I will forgive you and your husband."

"Again, lolno," Robert told her, smashing a vase over the witch's head. The witch gave a howl and snarled at him.

"You will pay for this, one way or another!" the witch snarled before fleeing. "Should we be worried?" Silver asked her husband. The young man shook his head.

"Nah. We can make another vase."

Many months later, after the babe had been birthed and weaned, the witch broke into the young couple's house. Looming over the crib, she peered at the child that would be hers. The child's eyes were a bright green, the same colour as the leaves on her coffee plants, and gleamed with intelligence as she looked at the witch. She cackled softly and grabbed the child out of the crib and placed a hand over the girl's mouth to keep her from crying. The child stayed silent, eyes darting around the room before resting on the witch. She did not start crying until they hit the cold air and the witch ran into the night.

The witch named the girl Blaire, after the witch's own mother, and took her away to a cottage in the woods. She grew up with only the witch for human company. Instead, she made her friends among the birds and other animals, singing from the cottage window and playing with them in the garden. She grew more beautiful each day, until, when she turned twelve, the witch shut her away in a tower, afraid someone would take her beautiful daughter away from her.

Blaire was a beautiful child. Her hair, the color of spun coffee, flowed long and free down her back, almost long enough to reach the bottom of the tower. She had lips the same colour as the red coffee berries, and eyes as green as their leaves. Each day, before the witch came to bring her food and water, Blaire had nothing to do but brush her long hair and sing. Once again, she made friends with the birds around the tower. They would temporarily nest in her hair after a long flight, waking up rejuvenated and happy. In return, they would bring the girl shells and other things from their travels to brighten up her lonely tower. Blaire, however, never fell tired or unhappy, for whenever she brushed her hair, it was like the very power of caffeine coursed through her veins.

Many years past, and one day a young princess was riding through the woods when she heard beautiful voice singing. Exhausted, as she had nearly died of dysentery on the trail two weeks ago, the princess almost rode on. But then another verse of the song flowed through the trees and she stopped, turning toward the sound. Kicking her horse into riding, the princess rode through the trees until she reached a small clearing that housed a tall tower. Her eyes went wide as she looked at the top of the tower, which seemed to stretch into the clouds. Hearing a rustling noise, the princess urged her horse back into the trees and watched as a young woman emerged from the other side of the clearing. Her blonde hair was clipped short, and she was wearing a dress of silvery blue velvet, the princess noticed. She crossed the clearing in a few short steps and stood at the base of the tower, looking up.

"Blaire, my child, let down your hair!" the woman called. The princess bit back a gasp when long hair, dark as coffee, came spilling down the side of the tower from an unseen window. The princess watched in amazement as the woman began to climb up the tresses and disappeared. Turning to her horse, the princess noticed that her mouth was hanging open.

"Oh, man. There's someone up there! I bet that hag is keeping them poisoner!" she said, grabbing her horse's face in her hands. Her horse whinnied in response. "We need to get up there and rescue them!" The horse snorted, and the princess rolled her eyes. "Just stay quiet." It took a few hours, but soon the woman left, fleeing in the direction she had come. The princess slowly crept out from the ring of trees and to the base of the tower, looking up like the woman had done. "Blaire, my child, let down your hair!" she called, doing her best to imitate the woman's voice. It worked, and brown hair poured down the side of the tower like coffee from a pot.

Hesitantly, the princess began her climb, feeling instantly rejuvenated when she touched the hair.

"Mother, what's wrong? What did you forget?" a young woman's voice called down. Staying silent until she was in sight of the window, the princess heard the young woman gasp in horror. "Who are you? What do you want! Let go of me!"

"My name is Kyota," the princess said shakily, grabbing the girl's hair tighter. "Please, I'm here to save you from this tower!"

"Save me?" the girl questioned. Kyota nodded her head.

"What's your name?" she asked. The girl narrowed her eyes further.

"Blaire," she bit out. "Now, come inside. You will be sick if you stay out in the cold and wind. Also, my scalp is starting to hurt." Nodding, Kyota climbed up to the window and entered the tower, gazing around the room with wide eyes.

It was sparse in the way of furniture, holding only a bed, wardrobe, and a small table. The walls, however, were decorated with what looked like a random assortment of things found at the beach or on the floor of the forest. Shells, driftwood, pine needles, and sticks were sprawled anywhere they would fit. There was a small door on the left side of the room, and Kyota would bet her life that it led to the bathroom. "It's very pretty," she said, complimenting the girl. Blaire nodded.

"Tell me why you're here," she said threateningly. "Mother Leilah is not too far away. I could still call her."

"I thought you were trapped. I climbed up here to rescue you. To take you back home with me. I am the princess of a large and powerful kingdom. You would be welcome there," Kyota said honestly, taking Blaire's hands in her own. "Come with me, please." Blaire looked at the floor, eyebrows wrinkled in thought. Her adopted mother had never been very kind to the girl, and had locked her away from people all her life. She wanted out of the tower, but she was too scared to leave on her own. She had asked her adopted mother to take her in the past, but the woman had always refused. This Kyota person seemed nice enough, and better another woman than a boy, who, as her adopted mother told her, were only after one thing. Even if she was never told what it was.

"I will go with you," she said firmly. "But first we must dispose of my mother. She is very jealous, and will chase us to the ends of the earth." Kyota nodded and looked around the room, smiling when she spotted a frying pan on the small stove.

"This will do," she told Blaire, picking it up. "She climbs up to the window, I hit her in the face, and she falls down. She hits the bottom of the tower and then, well, ker-splat." Kyota smiled."Then we hop on my horse and ride off into the sunset. You said she can hear you. Call her."

Blaire nodded and ran to the window of her tower, leaning out as far as she could. "Mother! Mother Leilah! Come back!" she yelled at the top of her voice. "Mother! MOTHER!" Staring into the trees with wide, hopeful eyes, Blaire smiled in relief when her mother strode into the clearing.

"Blaire, what is it?" she called, sounding irritated. Without asking, the girl flung her hair over the side of the tower.

"Mother, could you please come up? I need to talk to you," she called down. She gave Kyota a thumbs up, and the princess flattened herself against the wall, gripping the frying pan. She braced herself when the top of the blonde woman's head came into view. She pulled the frying pan up to her shoulder like a baseball bat when she hefted herself onto the windowsill, hands on her hips, to stare at her child. "Yes, my child?" she asked, teetering on the windowsill. Kyota took a deep breath as Blaire began to drag her hair back inside the tower. "Goodbye, Mother," she whispered, stepping away from the window.

The woman's eyebrows knitted together in confusion as Kyota jumped from her place against the wall, slamming Blaire's frying pan into her mother's face with a sickening crack. The woman howled, hands flying out to try to steady herself while blood poured down her face. Kyota didn't watch as she fell backward, leaping forward and covering Blaire's eyes with her hand. After a few moments, she went to the windowsill, sighing in relief when she saw the woman was dead.

"It's okay now," Kyota whispered. "We can leave. You can come away with me." Blaire did just that, the two of them descending the tower on a rope made of bedsheets and spare clothing. They strode to Kyota's horse, taking care to avoid the body of Blaire's adopted mother. After many days of riding, they reached Kyota's kingdom, where she explained Blaire's plight to the king and queen. Soon, Blaire was reunited with her real parents, who had made a fortune off of the witch's abandoned coffee plants. They explained everything about the girl's adopted mother, and apologized profusely for their own greed in acquiring the coffee berries. Blaire forgave them, and all was well, though she never did cut her hair very short, preferring it reached her knees.

As for the princess, she married the girl, and they lived happily ever after.

12/24/2010 . Edited 12/24/2010 #2

Snow One and Rose Two

Once upon a time, in a small cottage deep in the woods, there lived a mother and her two twin daughters. One had snow-white skin and pale hair, and the other flaming red hair and sun-kissed skin. She named them Snow and Rose, but had affectionately nicknamed them One and Two for their birth order. Every day, the girls would play in the woods surrounding their cottage, frolicking with the animals in the woods and exploring. Some nights, when they were out after dark, the girls would sleep in the forest, finding a meadow or soft bed of moss to lie in. This happened so much in the spring and summer months that their mother no longer worried for them, and they could play in the forest for days on end. However, they were warned to watch out for dwarves, who would often steal human children if they strayed too close to treasure.

One night in the winter, the girl's mother was reading a story by the fire when they heard a knock at the door. "Hurry, little children!" their mother, Leilah cried, leaping from her rocking chair. "Open the door! It may be a traveler that needs shelter!" Snow opened the door, and standing on the threshold was a large moose. The girl yelled in terror and almost shut the door, but the moose stuck her head in, eyes wide with worry.

"Do not be afraid, little one!" she said softly, "I only wish to come in from the cold and warm myself." Snow stood, paralyzed, until her mother pulled the girl aside gently.

"Of course, dear moose," she said, opening the door wider. "Come in, come in." Stepping into the room, the moose laid before the fire, snorting quietly. At first the girls were afraid of the moose, but as the hours past they got braver. Soon, they were tumbling around her on the carpet, peeking her ears and petting her soft fur until their mother shooed them to bed. The moose left in the morning, but she returned the next night, and for many nights after, until the family got so used to her they stopped locking their door at night, and she would walk right in. The girls loved their moose friend, and played with her every night while their mother read the three of them stories. When the spring came, however, the moose made a sad announcement.

"Now that it is spring, I am afraid that I must leave your cabin until next winter. If I see you in the woods, I shall be sure to greet you."

"Don't go!" Rose pleaded with her friend. But the moose only shook her head.

"I must." The girls mourned the loss of their moose friend, but played in the woods all the same through most of the spring.

One day in the summer, the two came across a small dwarf, his beard stuck in a log. Forgetting their mother's warnings, the two girls strode up to the dwarf, curiosity shining in their eyes. "Dwarf, what is the matter with you?" Rose asked. The terrible creature snarled.

"My beard is stuck!" he snarled at Rose, batting her hand away. "You pathetic humans, always cutting down trees and leaving the logs when it pleases you! It is your fault I am here!"

"Surely it isn't our fault," Snow said, crossing her arms and snorting. "We haven't cut down any trees, have we, Rose?"

"No, Snow. I don't believe we have," Rose answered her sister, standing in front of the dwarf. "Who are you to make such accusations?" The dwarf sputtered and pulled at his beard as the sisters stared at him, eyes narrowing into slits. Snow began to tap her food impatiently, and Rose's hands balled into fists.

"I don't think he has anything to say for himself, Rose," Snow told her sister, grabbing her hand. "We should go home then. Maybe Mother will have made lunch." The two girls turned to walk away, and the dwarf began to yell.

"No, you little shits! You can't leave me here! Come back!" he howled, tugging at his beard. The two sisters turned around, and Snow sighed.

"Rose, we can't just leave him," she said, walking back over.

"Yes, we can," Rose protested, walking after her sister. "Oh, how can you be so cruel?" Snow asked, grabbing the dwarf under his arms. Rose rolled her eyes.

"I was born in New Jersey. It's in my blood," she explained. Rose picked up a sharp stone from the forest floor as Snow pulled the dwarf backwards, exposing his beard. With narrowed eyes, Rose hacked away at his beard, ignoring his protests.

"You little monsters! Look what you did to my beard!" he snarled, kicking Snow in the stomach. The girl didn't let go, instead staring down at the dwarf with hatred in her eyes.

"We just saved your sorry ass!" she said to him, voice full of anger. "That's how you treat someone who saved your life?"

"Forget it, Snow. He's not worth our time," Rose said angrily, still gripping the rock.

"I say we put that New Jersey blood to use and kill him," Snow told her sister, gripping the dwarf tighter. "He may cause more trouble." Rose nodded, ignoring the dwarf's stuttered protests as she brought the rock down on his head over and over, until he stopped moving.

"Oh, Snow, we're beastly children," Rose said, wiping her bloodied hands on her apron. Snow sighed and dropped the now limp body of the dwarf, stepping around it gingerly.

"Rose, look at this!" Snow said excitedly, looking inside the tree trunk. Strewn along the hollow bottom of the trunk was many different kinds of treasures. Everything from diamonds to strings of pearls seemed to line the bottom.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" a voice said from behind. The girls whirled around and saw their moose friend emerge from the trees, smiling a moose smile. In a flash of light that blinded them, the moose was transformed into a beautiful girl with long black hair, dressed all in gold. The girls gaped at her, while the girl chuckled. "My name is Princess Annie," she told them, happily examining her hands and touching her own face. "Long ago, I was cursed by an evil witch to become a moose, and live the rest of my days as one, guarding my treasure, until he was killed. You two have saved me!" Their friend hugged them. "As return for your kindness in the winter months, and for setting me free, I invite you and your mother to live in the palace with me for the rest of your days. Your children, and your children's children, and all generations that follow shall be honoured by Canadia."

The girls cheered and accepted Princess Annie's offer to live in the palace, where they met and married a good prince and noble from the kingdom of Australia. They were friends with Annie until her death, and each sister lived a good, long life.

12/24/2010 . Edited 12/24/2010 #3

Little Rayne Riding Hood

Once upon a time in a land far, far away, there lived a teenaged girl named Rayne. Rayne loved her grandmother, Leilah, very, very much. But to Rayne's great sadness, her grandmother lived far away, on the very top of the mountain boarding her small village. To sooth the girl's sorrow, Leilah made her a black riding hood for her journey up the mountain. She wore it always, and people began to call her Little Rayne Riding Hood.

One day, Rayne's sister, Jayde, fell very sick. Rayne and her mother tried everything they knew, feeding the girl various herbs and medicines to try to cure her. Nothing worked, and the girl got weaker and weaker, until her mother was sure that she would die. "Go to your grandmother, Little Rayne," Rayne's mother, Amber, ordered. "Take this basket and fill it with herbs from her garden. We will make the tea your grandmother used to give me when I was sick. If that does not work, all hope is lost." Rayne, filled with worry for her sister, donned her black riding hood and set out on her journey.

Halfway up the mountain, Rayne came across a large wolf. "Where are you off to in such a hurry?" the wolf asked her, baring its sharp teeth. Rayne shook her head sadly.

"I am off to my grandmother's house on the top of the mountain to fetch herbs for my sick sister," Rayne explained to the wolf. "My mother should brew tea from it to cure her."

"I see," the wolf told her, nodding. "Perhaps you should pick some flowers for your grandmother? As a gift?"

"What a marvelous idea!" Rayne said happily, clapping her hands together. "Thank you, dear wolf!" With that the girl skipped for the river, picking flowers while she hummed. The wolf, however, went ahead to her grandmother's house on the top of the mountain and knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" the grandmother called, walking slowly to the door.

"It's me, grandmother," the wolf called in a high voice. "Your little granddaughter!"

"Why, Little Rayne has come to visit me!" the grandmother said as she opened the door, only to lay eyes on the wolf. "Oh, bugger." At that, the wolf swallowed her whole. After the wolf licked its chops and walked into the house, it squeezed into the grandmother's bedclothes and hid under the covers, waiting for Little Rayne to come and visit her grandmother.

"Grandmother, are you home?" Rayne called some time later. "I brought you some flowers. Mother says I need to pick some herbs from your garden. Grandmother?"

"In here, my child," the wolf called, using the grandmother's voice. Rayne sheepishly peered around the corner and into her grandmother's room.

"Why, grandmother. You look different!" Rayne exclaimed, "Your ears are very large!"

"The better to hear you with, my dear," the wolf answered.

"And your eyes! So big!" Rayne said, grabbing the firepalce poker and creeping into the room.

"The better to see you with, my dear," the wolf answered.

"And your teeth?" Rayne asked.

"All the better to eat you with, my dear!" the wolf snarled, leaping out of the bed. Little Rayne whipped the firepalce poker out from behind her and stabbed the wolf in the stomach. The wolf fell to the floor in agony, and Little Rayne sliced his stomach open. The grandmother tumbled out, and together they killed the wolf and ate him.

Leilah brewed tea from the herbs in her garden and the wolf's blood for Jayde, and Rayne took it to her sister. Jayde drank it and healed at once, color returning to her cheeks. She shared the tea with Rayne, and they two were healthy for the rest of their days.

12/24/2010 . Edited 12/24/2010 #4

Tucker Leah and the Five Dwarves

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, there lived a loving king and his wife. They ruled the kingdom fairly, and wanted for nothing. One day, when the queen was in the gardens of the palace, she pricked her finger on a sewing needle. She watched the blood drip into the grass and sighed. She and her husband had everything, except a child, and the kingdom was eager for an heir.

"Oh, if only I could have a child!" the queen exclaimed, falling into the grass in sorrow. "A child with hair as blonde as corn, skin pale as winter snow, and as beautiful and delicate as lace!" The king and queen tried for a child for many seasons, and each season she got more and more desperate. The people of the kingdom looked on her with scorn, and she fell into a deep depression.

Just as the first snow began to fall, the queen was overjoyed to find herself pregnant. Still, her health failed her, and by the time the child was ready to be born she was nearly dead. She lived long enough after the birth to see her child, who had skin pale as the first winter snow, looked delicate as the lace on her dress, and had a small tuft of hair that was blonde as corn kernels. She named her daughter Tucker Leah, and the kingdom rejoiced at her birth, though they mourned the queen's death, for she had been good and kind.

The child grew more beautiful each day, and was loved throughout the kingdom like her mother was. The girl spent her days in the forest surrounding the palace, playing with the animals and gathering wild flowers. At night she would sit by the fire and sew, making dresses for herself out of her mother's old, now unfashionable clothes. The clothes she made were indeed different from the clothes of other girls her age. They did not reach the floor, or even her ankles, instead resting near her knees. They took many more petticoats than the dresses of the other children, giving the skirt a bell shape. The tops of the dresses were always tightly-fitted instead of loose, making the skirt stand out even more. Ruffles, lace, and layers of fabric made up her dresses, which were often pastel colored.

The kingdom called her Princess Leah, since Tucker was a boy name, and were all very confused about why her mother had called her Tucker. Her father, however, smiled and called the princess her full name whey they were alone, for Tucker was his middle name, something only his beloved wife knew.

Years flew by in happiness, and the king's advisors finally told him that he needed to hurry up and get married again so he could have a son to inherit the throne instead of Tucker Leah. Her name was simply not becoming of a queen, and she dressed too weird, anyway. Reluctantly, the king married a beautiful woman from a neighboring kingdom. Soon after, he had a heart attack and died, leaving Tucker Leah alone with her stepmother.

The stepmother was jealous of Tucker Leah's beauty and of how the kingdom loved her. She took away her bell-shaped dresses and forced her to wear rags that were dirtier than the clothes of even the lowest peasant. Still, Tucker Leah did not despair, for she would have the throne one day, and punish her wicked stepmother then.

Around Tucker Leah's seventeenth's birthday, the queen realized this, and ordered her huntsman be brought before her. "Huntsman," she said, "take my stepdaughter Tucker Leah into the forest in and kill her. As proof, bring me her heart and a bottle of her blood stoppered with her toe. If you fail, it is you who will pay the price. If you do this for me, your reward will be most handsome. Now go."

The huntsman obeyed the queen, and brought the girl into the woods for what she thought would be a day of hunting and gathering flowers. Just as he was about to perform the evil deed, Tucker Leah turned to face him and saw his knife. Instead of trembling like a little girl and weeping, she promptly kicked him in the groin and booked it into the forest. The huntsman, at a loss and curled up in the fetal position in pain, slaughtered a deer and drained its blood into the bottle, and after stealing a corpse from the local cemetery, he stoppered the bottle with its toe.

When he returned to the palace, the queen ate the heart and drank the blood, and she found it good. The huntsman was rewarded and spent the rest of his short life in luxury.

Tucker Leah, however, fled deeper and deeper into the forest, her animal friends running behind her. She wove through the trees, happy that she had worn her last handmade outfit instead of her rags into the woods, for her petticoats kept her legs nice and warm in the chilly air of the forest. She ran for what felt like hours before finally falling to her knees in a clearing, unable to run further. A deer nudged her hand and she looked up, gasping when her eyes fell upon a small cottage at the edge of the clearing.

"Oh, isn't today my lucky day?" she muttered to herself, standing on shaky legs. She brushed some grass from her stockings and began to walk toward the cottage, leaning heavily on the deer who had shown her the cottage. She jiggled the door handle, cursing when it would not turn. "Locked," she muttered, staring at the deer. Letting go of the deer, Tucker Leah backed up several paces and let the deer kick the door until it opened. Smiling, she hobbled inside and dropped into one of the chairs at the low table.

Silently, Tucker Leah stared around the house, wrinkling her nose at the state of it. Dust lined every surface aside from the floor, table, and chairs. Dirty dishes were piled on top of the table and in the sink, and Tucker Leah could smell rotten food somewhere close to her. The other thing that she noticed was that there were five of everything. Five chairs at the table, five chairs in front of the fire, five dishes, five bowls, five cups, and five sets of cutlery.

"Well," she said to the deer, "either there are children here, or five midgets. Maybe gay midgets, since I don't think a woman could live here. I certainly can't." The deer made a whining sound. "Well, I suppose you're right. It's not like I'm going to find something better than this. We may as well get to cleaning." With a sigh, Tucker Leah hauled herself from the table and grabbed a rag, whistling to the animals as she did so. "Alright, guys. Let's make this place liveable."

It took several hours, but in the end Tucker Leah and the animals got the house clean and started dinner, making a soup out of the vegetables and fresh meat she had found in the house and surrounding area.

Meanwhile, miles away, five little men were finishing the day's work of mining precious stones and preparing them for sale in neighboring kingdoms. They were very rich dwarves, but preferred to live in the forest away from prying eyes and humans. The dwarves names were Blake, Scott, Robert, Alt, and Apo, and they lived together happily, ignoring each other for the most part.

Sighing, Blake rubbed his nearly-bald head and cracked his back before putting the day's haul into the vault and writing the tally on the clipboard. "Not a bad haul today," he said, smiling.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's go home and eat," Apo said as he added his own haul to the pile. Robert nodded and stuck out a leg to trip Alt as he ran by to add some diamonds to the day's tally. They laughed as Alt's face turned red and headed home, whistling.

They were silent during the trek home, as they always were, until they reached their clearing. "Oh, shit. Who left the lights on?" Scott asked.

"Probably you," Robert grumbled. Scott shook his head and turned to stare at Apo.

"Don't look at me. Blake?" The nearly-bald dwarf shook his head, and the four of them stared at Alt.

"" he guess.

"That means someone's in our house. We're gonna have to cut a bitch," Robert said, hoisting his pickaxe onto his shoulder. Alt gulped as Scott and Blake did the same, while Apo just yawned. Slowly, they crept toward their now well-lit home, stopping when the smell of soup hit their noses.

"Whoever it is, they can't be that bad. They're making dinner," Scott said, his stomach rumbling.

"Good dinner, by the smell of it," Alt said. Robert shook his head.

"We have to go in there. See who they are. Then we eat," he said, nodding and hoisting his pickaxe onto his shoulder again.

They gasped when they opened the door and found Tucker Leah slumped over their table, asleep, and a pot of soup simmering quietly over the fire. "A girl," Blake said, dropping his pickaxe.

"A pretty girl," Robert said, also dropping his weapon. They five stared for a moment, not sure what to do.

"I suppose we should wake her up? I feel like a stalker," Apo said. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, the pink-clad girl stirred, yawning and looking straight at them.

That's when Tucker Leah screamed.

"Stay way from me!" she shouted, grabbing a cooking knife off the table and pointing it at the dwarves. Blake only laughed.

"We're not going to hurt you," he said, laughter still filling the room. "You did make us dinner, after all." Robert opened his mouth to say something, but Blake kicked him in the shin. "What's your name, little lady?"

"Tucker Leah," she said, not lowering the knife. "Who are you? Do you live here?"

"You're the one breaking and entering. We should be asking the questions," Scott said, his pickaxe still on his shoulder. Blake shushed him.

"I'm Blake and that's Scott. The one behind me is Robert, and the two next to him are Alt and Apo," Blake explained. "Where are you from, Tucker Leah?"

"Just Leah," she said, lowering the knife. "I'm from the kingdom."

"You're the princess!" Alt squeaked. The five dwarves stared at her with wide eyes, and Leah raised the knife again.

"Uh, yes. Yes I am," she said slowly. "I'm hiding from my stepmother and her huntsman. She hates me, and no doubt she sent him after me to kill me. I can't leave until I'm eighteen and I can take the throne from her and have her killed."

"Well, you can't just barge into people's homes, you know," Scott said quietly, only to be kicked in the shin again.

"Maybe we can strike a bargain," Blake said with a smile. Tucker Leah lowered the knife again.

"I stay here and keep house for you. I'll cook and clean and do all that domestic crap, and I'll stay out of your way. You stay out of mine. Deal?" Tucker Leah said, gripping her knife tighter. Before any of the dwarves could speak up, Blake stuck his hand out.

"Deal," he said as Tucker Leah shook his hand. "Now, can we have some of that soup?"

It took six months for the queen to find out that Tucker Leah was still alive. She had asked the fortune teller when it might be wise of her to take a husband and create an heir, and the old woman had told her that her heir was still living. Enraged, she cut out the huntsman's heart and ate it, killing his whole family as well. In anger, she went to the fortune teller again, and found out where her little stepdaughter was hiding.

With five little men in the woods.

Cackling madly, the queen returned to her home and began to plan her stepdaughter's death. Quietly, she made three deadly objects, in case the princess refused one of them. The first was a petticoat that would knock the wind out of its owner, rendering her unable to breathe. The second was a necklace that would choke its owner to death. And the third was a poisoned apple.

"True love's kiss is the only antidote," the queen muttered to herself before laughing darkly. "HA! Like anyone would kiss a corpse, even if the dwarves don't bury her." She cackled madly to herself before putting on her disguise, that of an old beggar woman.

"Now, don't let anyone in the house," Blake told Tucker Leah as he and the dwarves left for the mines. In the six months she'd been at the house, Tucker Leah and the dwarves had become uneasy friends. Looking out for each other was something they were forced to do.

"I know, Blake," she said, rolling her eyes. "You all have fun at work!" The dwarf smiled and waved, running off with the rest of them.

For most of the day Tucker Leah hummed to herself, finishing her chores and starting dinner. After a few hours, she heard a knock on the door and opened a window to investigate. There, knocking on the door, was an old beggar woman with a cart filled with odds and ends.

"Uh, can I help you?" Tucker Leah asked uneasily, gripping the windowsill. The old woman turned around, eyes lit up.

"Oh, a customer!" she said gleefully. "Ah, yes girlie. You can help me. I've been wondering through this woods for days looking for a kingdom. And I need to trade my goods for some food to keep me going."

"Oh, I can just give you some food," Tucker Leah said, turning around. Fast as lightening, the old woman grabbed her wrist with surprising strength.

"No, no, dear," the woman crooned. "I have to trade something for it. I can't just take your food! You'll make me feel like some sort of charity case."

"Well, what have you got to trade?" Tucker Leah asked, wishing she had her carving knife. The old woman let go of her wrist and rummaged through her goods, eventually coming out of her cart holding a petticoat, necklace, and apple.

"Perhaps a pretty petticoat?" she asked. Tucker Leah shook her head and opened her mouth, but the woman kept talking. "No? Oh, I see you've got one. How about this necklace, dearie?" Tucker Leah shook her head again and opened her mouth. "Ah, the apple. Yes, you are probably wondering why I haven't eaten it myself. You see, it is a magic apple."

"A magic apple?" Tucker Leah asked, raising her eyebrows.

"Yes. It will grant the wish of any person to eat it. Worth quite a lot on the market," the woman said. "But I cannot eat it myself, for my teeth are too brittle. I would trade it to you for some bread or soup."

"You say it can grant any wish?" Tucker Leah asked. The woman nodded. "Alright. Give it to me." Tucker Leah handed the woman some bread, and she passed the apple to the girl, who smiled and took a bite.

Almost immediately she felt her body spasm and her hands flew to her throat as she began to choke, the piece of apple having wedged itself in her throat. She fell to the floor, knocking over the pie she was making and sending blueberries scattering across the kitchen. The last thing she heard before her eyes closed was the old woman's laughter.

When the dwarves came home they found Tucker Leah, dead, on the floor.

"Dude, she's, like, in a coma," Robert said. Blake kicked him in the shin.

"None of that. This is bad. What are we going to do with the body?" Blake asked.

"Uh, bury it?" Alt said. "I'll go get the shovels."

"That's against the health codes," Apo pointed out.

"Screw the health codes! We've got a dead body in our kitchen!" Scott yelled, grabbing one of Tucker Leah's legs. "We have to get her outside. Put her on the cart." The five dwarves put the dead princess on their old ponycart, something they no longer had the use for, seeing as they had no pony. Sighing, they went back inside.

"Tomorrow we will build a coffin. Then we will bury her," Blake said. The rest nodded, and they swept up the blueberries and ate dinner before falling asleep.

The next day, the local cobbler was riding through the woods when he came to the dwarves' clearing. Hoping for some food, he dismounted and walked to the dwarves.

"Hello, my name is Rane, and I'm a lonely cobbler who is on my way to the kingdom. Might you spare some food?" he asked, trying to be as formal as possible. When the dwarves didn't look up he walked closer, slipping in the dirt and knocking into their pony cart.

Tucker Leah's corpse tumbled out and he screamed, running back to his horse to get his gun. The dwarves stood up, armed with knives.

"We didn't kill her," Blake said sadly. "She choked while eating something. We just want to bury our friend." Eyes still wide, Rane didn't move. The five dwarves and one human stared each other down. Rane stood with his mouth open at the girl. She was the prettiest girl he had ever seen. Her hair and skin looked like a royal, but the way she was dressed...

Her ruffled pink skirt was bell-shaped, so unlike the other women of the town he lived in. Her blouse was white and ruffled, with small bows on the sleeves. Her corn-blonde hair was curled slightly, but was mostly obscured by her pink-and-white hat. He walked over to the dwarves and scooped her up in his arms. Without thinking, he kissed her, immediately backing away, horrified, after he did. The dwarves looked at him angrily, and raised their knives, stopping when they heard a small moan.

Tucker Leah sat up and coughed, sending a small piece of apple flying from her throat. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and stood up on shaky legs. "I'll kill that sonouvabitch," she rasped. The dwarves cheered and hugged their friend, who told them of how she died.

"Hi. Who're you?" she asked, eyeing the horse. He gulped.

"I'm Rane," he answered. "I woke you. With a kiss." Tucker Leah touched her lips and stared at him. "I love you," he said, covering his mouth in horror. He'd just met this girl! But she only smiled.

"My name is Tucker Leah," she said. "Do you still love me?"

"Yes," he answered.

"I dress like this every day. Do you still love me?"


"I am the princess. Do you still love me?"


"Then will you marry me?"

"Yes," he answered with a gulp. Tucker Leah smiled.

"Then I love you, two."

And so they left the dwarves and went to Tucker Leah's kingdom, where she overthrew the evil witch and killed her by boiling her in oil. She and Rane visited the dwarves often, and they made a killing in the diamond industry.

Tucker Leah's way of dress was finally accepted and became widespread. She named it lolita, after her mother, who's dresses had contributed to her first outfits.

Best of all, after many years of being in love, Rane asked Leah to marry him, proposing in the guise of presenting her with shoes, her dwarf-made ring resting on top of them.

Of course, they lived happily ever after.

12/24/2010 #5


Once upon a time in a kingdom not so far way, there lived a young woman named Jenny, her stepmother, and her two stepsisters. The girls were as ugly on the inside as they were on the outside, and they tortured Jenny endlessly for being more beautiful than they. After Jenny's father died and she was left in the care of her stepmother and stepsisters, she was forced to live the life of their maid, serving their every whim. Many times she thought about running away, but in the cold kingdom of Victorian Maine, there was very little a woman could do on her own. Instead, Jenny decided to bide her time and get her revenge in little ways.

Jenny would piss in their morning and evening tea, smiling sweetly as they drank it and sneered at her. Every morning, she would use their toothbrushes to wash the foul-smelling chamber pot, laughing in delight when they complained about the taste of their toothbrushes. Dead rats would find their way into dinner, and floors were waxed so well that her stepsisters slipped and fell on their faces, breaking or bloodying their noses. All the while she would smile sweetly, never letting them know that she was the one fucking up their lives.

Around her eighteenth birthday, Jenny slowly started to poison the stepsisters. According to the laws laid down, women could not own property unless there were no males in the family for it to go to. In her family, there were no males just her, her stepsisters, and her stepmother. Once her stepsisters were out of the picture, she just had to wait to kill the old lady, so that her death didn't look too fishy.

A few days before Jenny's plan to poison her stepsisters went into action, the family received an invitation to a local ball. The prince was trying to find a wife so he could become king, and had invited all the women in the kingdom.

"Jenny, you must make us new dresses!" one of her stepsister's cackled. Jenny sighed and set about finding the itchiest material she could find, hoping to give her stepsister's hives. She worked tirelessly on the dresses, even forgetting to piss in their tea.

That night, as they were leaving the house, her stepmother turned and glared at her. "Jenny, I forbid you to come with us." The young girl rolled her eyes and slammed the door before checking the rat traps around the house.

In a puff of smoke a beautiful woman appeared in her kitchen, dressed in a large, red and white dress that must've taken a cage petticoat to wear properly. "Hello, insert name here! I am Pipperment, the good fairy. I have come to make all your dreams come true and-" The fairy stopped reading to stare at Jenny. "Crap, wrong kid. Ah, well. How can I make your life better?"

"You could give women rights," Jenny said. The fairy shook her head.

"No can do, kid. Can't do anything political," the fairy apologized.

"Okay. Can you kill my stepsisters and stepmother?" she asked.

"Can't kill anyone, either."

"Well, what can you do?"

The fairy smiled. "I can change your dress into a beautiful ballgown, and send you to the ball in the most beautiful coach you've ever seen in your life!"

"Are you sure you can't just kill my relatives? 'Cause I don't wanna go to that stupid thing," Jenny muttered. The fairy shook her head.

"You and this prince may have more in common than you think," the fairy said with a wink as she set to work. She waved her wand, and Jenny's rags were transformed into a beautiful dress that, like the fairy's, took several petticoats to poof out.

"But I don't swing that way!" Jenny protested as the fairy did her hair, curling it into ringlets.

"Does it matter? You get him to marry you and you'll have all the money you need. You can fool around with anyone you want, so long as you pop out an heir," the fairy told her, drawing back from her handiwork and smiling.

"That's not very pure advice, coming from a fairy," Jenny muttered as Pippermint led her outside. With another wave of her want the flowers in the front yard transformed into a large, girly-looking coach pulled by white horses.

"Oh, just have a good time. And remember that my magic expires at midnight!" the fairy yelled, helping her in the coach and wacking one of the horses on the rear.

"You fuckeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeer," Jenny screamed as the coach took off, the horses bounding down the path. She had to grab the seats as she bounced up and down whenever the wheels hit large stones in the path. How the hell were the horses supposed to stop?

The horses, as if by magick, jerked to a halt in front of the palace. "I'm not going," Jenny said to the carriage. One of the horses whined. "No, really. I'm not going to move. I'm going to wait until midnight, walk the fuck home, and then I swear I'll shove some arsenic down their throats myself." Another horse whined, and the carriage began to shake. "No! Not moving! I fucking swear to all that is holy, if you shake this thing one more time, I'll shove arsenic down your throats!" One of the horses snorted, and the carriage gave one final tip, sending Jenny flying out the door. She landed in a heap on the ground and glared back at the horses, who whinnied cheerfully and trotted to the other carriages.

"Fine," Jenny muttered, picking herself up and slipping into the palace. She stood in the back by the food, eating from the plates of bacon the servants had set out. If she was going to be here, she may as well eat.

"Hello, miss. Would you care to dance?" a male voice asked. Jenny turned around and saw the prince, eyes wide as if he was panicking. He inched closer to Jenny as another girl came toward him, eyes gleaming with a predatory shine. Seeing the look of panic on his face, Jenny took pity on the prince.

"Alright, let's go," she said, stuffing the last piece of bacon into her mouth and wiping the grease on the skirt of the girl behind her. The prince laughed when he saw this, and led her onto the dance floor.

The two danced for what seemed like several hours, the prince's grip tightening around Jenny's waist and hand whenever another woman tried to approach them. "You're afraid," she said to him, staring at the woman who had just walked away angrily.

"Yup," the prince answered, looking at his feet. "I don't really like girls."

"Well, I don't like guys, either. But I'm dancing with one," Jenny pointed out. "Duck and cover, here comes another one." They danced away from the dark-haired girl who tried to approach them. "Why the hell are you dancing with me, anyway?"

"You were the only girl not throwing herself at me," the prince confessed. "I don't want to get married. Not to a girl."

"Oh, okay," Jenny said, looking past his shoulder. Her eyes widened as the information clicked in her head. "Oh! Oooooooooh. I get it." They danced in silence before Jenny glanced up at the clock. Eleven-thirty. "Oh, shit!" she hissed, tearing herself out of the prince's grasp. "I gotta get home!"

"No, wait!" the prince grabbed her hand. "Stay. Marry me. You said you don't like guys. It'll make my dad happy, and we don't even have to hang around each other." Jenny stared at him, opened-mouthed.

"You're and idiot," she said finally, ripping her arms out of his grasp and racing out of the palace. She tripped on the stairs, cursed, and got back up, whistling for the horses. The ride back home was faster, and bumpier. Jenny just managed to burst through the door of her home as the clock struck twelve and the magick faded, leaving her in her rags. Sighing, she stood up, frowning when her feet felt unbalanced.

Looking down, she saw that she was wearing one glass slipper, the other missing.

"Well, shit," she said, ripping the slipper off her foot and pitching it into the fireplace. Sighing, she went to fix some poisoned cookies.

"Oh, mother, it was horrible! The prince danced with a hussy all night!" one of her stepsisters complained.

"Well, they fought, darling," her stepmother said.

"Oh, but did you hear, mother? The girl left a slipper behind! And the prince is so infatuated that he's ordered the slipper taken around the kingdom! Any maid who fits it shall be his wife!" Jenny stared down at her tiny feet, silently cursing. Hopefully, some other woman in the kingdom wore the same shoe size as she did.

They heard a knock on the door and all four of them jumped, the stepmother signaling that Jenny should go wait in the kitchen. She did so gratefully, not wanting to see the prince.

He stepped into the house, looking as regal as he had at the ball. An attendant was carrying the glass slipper on a cushion. She watched her eldest stepsister try to get her foot into the slipper, but her toes were too big. When the prince and hir attendant weren't looking, she cut off her toes and shoved her foot into the slipper. Jenny's stomach hardened at the thought of cleaning all the blood up.

"Sorry, but you quite obviously cut off your toes," he said, backing away a little. He glanced over and saw Jenny peaking out from behind the wall, and opened his mouth to greet her. She put a finger to her lips and smiled.

'Let the other one try,' she mouthed. The prince looked surprised, but nodded. The other stepsister gleefully tried on the slipper, frowning when her heel did not fit. When the prince turned to stare at Jenny again, she cut off a bit of her heel and stuffed her foot inside the slipper.

"Uh, miss, it seems that you've cut off your heel," the prince said, backing away. He ran to the kitchen and grabbed Jenny.

"I'm not putting that slipper on. It's all bloody," she told him.

"You don't have to," he told her. "Please, marry me. You'll be comfortable, and once a son is born we will never have to touch each other again."

"On three conditions," Jenny said. "First, women can do everything men can."


"You make gay marriage legal so no one else has to do this."


"And I want some more bacon."


"Then I'll marry you, you idiot," she said, shaking his hand.

The two lived happily for many years, becoming good friends and good rulers. They did have affairs on the side, but they couldn't really blame each other for that. They bore one son, who went on to rule the kingdom for years after their deaths.

As for the ugly stepsisters, they died of blood loss. Their mother lived out the rest of her days in poverty and loneliness.

And they lived happily ever after. Except for the stepfamily.

12/24/2010 #6


Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived a young peasant girl and her family. As the girl skipped to school every day, she plucked a kumquat from the branches of a tree that hung over a fence. She was called Qella, even though kumquats were not spelt with a q, because her fellow classmates weren't very good at spelling.

What Qella did not know is that the tree she robbed belonged to a witch. Every day the evil woman would watch the girl pluck a kumquat from her yard, and every day the witch grew angrier and angrier. Eventually, she snatched the girl up and locked her away, forcing her to be a servant to her and her daughter.

Despite the witch's frequent beatings and the heavy labor she put on the girl, Qella grew up beautiful and kind, doing her chores with a smile and singing to the birds after her beatings. This angered the witch, who, after many years of looking after the girl, finally decided that she should die.

"Take this basket to the well and fill it with water, or I shall kill you," the witch ordered, handing Qella a poorly-woven basket. Nodding, the girl ran to the well and filled the basket with water, staring in horror when it seeped out of the holes. She tried again and again to fill the basket, cursing when the water seeped out from the holes between the reeds. She dropped the basket at her feet and wept, falling to her knees and hiding her face in her hands.

"Qella, why are you crying?" said a kind voice. Looking up from her hands, Qella saw a beautiful young woman and a handsome man in the garden, both staring at her.

"Who are you, and how did you know my name?" Qella asked.

"I am Rayne, the daughter of the witch. And this is my husband, Scott," the woman explained. "I know my mother is out to punish you, but I shall help. If I fill your basket, will you give me a kiss?" Qella shook her head.

"I will not kiss you, or your husband. For you are the daughter of a witch, and he is married to a witch's daughter, which is just as bad," Qella said stubbornly. Rayne just sighed.

"Very well. But I will still fill your basket," she said. Rayne dipped the basket in the water and said a few words. When she drew the basket out again, the water did not leak from the holes. Qella thanked her and ran back to the witch. When the witch saw that the basket was full, her face twisted with rage.

"My traitor daughter or her husband must have helped you!" she spat. Qella just hung her head, saying nothing. "No matter. I shall get you."

The next day the witch gave Qella a bag of wheat as she sat in the kitchen. "I am going out, Qella. Take this wheat and make bread from it before I get home, or I shall kill you." Qella nodded and set about her task, working as hard as she could. However, she soon realized that the task was impossible and gave up, weeping bitterly on the hearth.

"Do not cry, Qella," said a soft voice. Qella turned and saw Rayne standing by the hearth. "If you give me a kiss, I shall bake the bread for you."

"I will not kiss you, for you are the daughter of a witch," Qella said, her voice trembling. Rayne sighed, but snapped her fingers anyway, turning all the wheat into bread. When the witch came home and saw Qella sitting among the baked goods, she narrowed her eyes.

"My daughter helped you, didn't she?" the witch asked. Qella only hung her head. The witch laughed. "No matter. We shall see who wins in the end."

The next day, as Qella was in the garden, singing to the birds, the witch appeared again. "I have a task for you, girl," she said. Qella got to her feet and waited obediently for instruction. "Go to my sister's house over the hill and fetch me the vase that sits on top of her sidetable. If you run away, I shall track you down and kill you. Now, go." Qella nodded and left while the witch cackled. Her sister was an even more powerful witch than she, and twice as cruel.

Rayne met Qella on the path, stopping her. "Qella, where are you going?" she asked innocently.

"To your aunt's house," Qella answered, attempting to get around the girl. Rayne's eyes widened and she grabbed Qella's shoulders, halting her.

"You cannot! She is crueler than my mother! She will lock you up and cook you for supper if you go to her!" Rayne shouted.

"What can I do?" Qella asked Rayne. The girl gripped her shoulders harder.

"Give me a kiss, and I shall save you," Rayne said, voice surprisingly soft.

"I will not," Qella said softly. She looked Rayne in the eyes. "If you do this for me, I will marry you." Rayne was delighted, as she had known the girl since childhood, and had been in love with her as far back as she could remember. Qella, having been touched by Rayne's kindness, finally returned those feelings.

Rayne smiled, and together they skipped off to the evil witch's house and killed her and all her servants. They buried the remains and skipped back home with the vase, which they smashed over the evil witch's head, killing her.

Rayne inherited the house and she and Qella were married. The two of them and their husband set out to make the world a better place, reuniting Qella with her parents and giving kumquats to all the little boys and girls.

And they lived happily ever after.

12/24/2010 #7

The Twelve Dancing Princesses

Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, there lived a king named Lance. Lance had been depressed ever since his wife had died, leaving him to raise and marry off their twelve daughters on his own.

He had twelve daughters, each as beautiful as the setting sun. There was Elodie, Breezeh, Streameh, Feynobirdie, Loz, Topaz, Hope, Golde, Paige, Alette, Cyn, and Julia. They often hid from their father, going to their lessons and retreating to their room, a large chamber the twelve of them shared.

When they all reached marriageable age (for many of his daughters were triplets or quintuplets, so they were all around the same age), the king began to notice that his daughter's shoes turned up full of holes, as if they had been danced to ribbons. Bewildered, the king offered a reward for anyone who could tell him where his daughters danced at night. If they did not find out within three days, however, their lives would be forfeit.

Many men tried, from princes to beggars, and all of them failed. One by one, they came to the palace, each to try their luck. And one by one, they were beheaded and buried in the garden.

One day, a lone soldier was walking home from the front lines. The war had dragged on for several years, and he was glad to make a new life for himself in this kingdom. However, his leg had been badly damaged, and he walked with a limp, making it impossible to get work in every town he stopped in.

Walking down the road, he saw an old beggar woman holding a sign, begging for food. "Hello there, good lady. We can share my lunch!" he told her, sitting down on the side of the road and sharing his meager lunch with her. They ate their meal of bread, ham, and cheese in silence, watching other travelers pass by them.

"Thank you, kind sir," the old woman said. "I shall reward you most graciously for your kindness."

"You don't have to," the man said. "I only did what was right."

"Please, tell me your name," the woman begged.

"I'm Blake, if you must know," he answered, getting up and brushing the dirt from his ragged clothes.

"Well, Blake. I think you might be interested as to what is going on at the palace," the woman said. "The king is offering his daughter's hand in marriage to anyone who can find out where they go at night. The girlies slip out of the palace and go dancing, they say. But no man has ever been able to catch them."

"Thank you, good woman. I think I'll give that a try," Blake said with a smile. The woman held up her hand.

"Take this," she said, drawing a slivery blanket out of her bag. "It will make you invisible to the naked eye. And remember: Do not drink anything the princesses give to you. You will regret it."

Blake thanked the woman and moved on, hobbling toward the palace. King Lance only laughed when he saw Blake, slapping him on the back and wishing him luck.

That night, the eldest daughter brought him a glass of wine to drink. Remembering the old woman's warning, he raised the goblet to his lips and pretended to drink it, dumping it in a plant when the eldest daughter looked away. As she left, Blake faked sleep, donning the silvery blanket, he crept to the daughter's room. He watched in awe as they slipped behind a screen to dress and emerged wearing beautiful ballgowns, each one more regal than the last. A fresh pair of shoes covered the feet of each girl as they all lined up at the wall. The eldest daughter pressed a stone, and to Blake's amazement the blocks parted, revealing a hidden staircase. The princesses descended, one by one, until they were lost in the darkness.

Blake followed them down the staircase, careful not to make a sound as his boots touched the heavy stone. The tunnel was long, and more than once he had to stop himself from treading on the dress of the youngest sister. When they emerged from the long passageway, Blake felt his mouth drop open.

The dark, cave-like tunnel opened into a beautiful pathway lined with trees of silver that grew leaves of gold. The path itself glittered like the sun touching diamonds. Blake, realizing he would need proof, reached up and broke off part of a tree's branch.

"What was that?" Julia asked, turning around. Blake froze.

"Just your imagination, dear," Elodie told her sister. "Come along now." Julia obediently followed her sister, and Blake gave a small sigh of relief. He followed them down the sparkly path until they reached what looked like a large outdoor ballroom, complete with gold-clad dancers. He watched the princesses dance the night away and occasionally pick at the table of food that had been laid out.

When the clock chimed one o'clock, the princesses bid the golden-clad dancers goodbye and began to walk back to their rooms. Blake raced ahead of the princesses and back into his room, where he pretended to sleep until morning. The next night he repeated the process, pretending to drink the wine and sleep. Again, he followed the sisters and watch them dance until one o'clock, this time stealing a jeweled goblet. The next night he repeated the process again, stealing a jeweled plate.

In the morning, King Lance called Blake to the royal meeting chamber. "Well? Have you found out where my daughters are sneaking off to?" he asked. Blake nodded and told King Lance the whole story, from how he had followed his daughters to the underground ballroom and watched them dance all night. As proof, he presented the silver branch with the gold leaves, the goblet, and the plate.

"Girls, is this man's story true?" King Lance asked his daughters.

"Of course not, father," Elodie said. The rest of the girls agreed until little Breezeh broke down.

"Father, I cannot lie to you. His story is true," she squeaked. King Lance was very angry and yelled at his daughter's for several minutes before slumping in his throne.

"Well, Blake, a promise is a promise. You may choose one of my daughters to be your wife," King Lance said finally. Blake looked up and down the row where each princess was standing with her head bowed, and, after a moment, turned to the King.

"I shall take them all," he said. King Lance stared at Blake for a moment before bursting into laughter, slapping his knees and clutching his stomach. When he stopped laughing the old king patted Blake on the back and wished him luck.

And so he married all twelve sisters and became a good king. They had many children, none of which danced their shoes to ribbons.

And they lived happily ever after.

The End

12/24/2010 #8
How to Train Your Moosie

Chelle, honestly, I love you. I don't know how you possibly found all the time to write and come up with this win, but it was win. THANK YOU. C8K

My favourite was the CinderJenny one, lawl. xD And the "I shall take them all" line. xDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

What fairytale is the Qella one based off of? I just kept thinking of, like, Mexican food the whole time I was reading it.

12/24/2010 #9

What fairytale is the Qella one based off of? I just kept thinking of, like, Mexican food the whole time I was reading it.

Prunella It's an Italian fairytale. And my favorite. XD

I'm glad you liked it. CinderJenny was probably my favorite.

And I wrote most of these in my seventh period computer class. XD

12/24/2010 #10
Jon Stewart

Holy shitballs.


That is. The best thing. Ever.

12/24/2010 #11
Anarane Faelivrin



12/24/2010 #12
Ice-Eagle Y'siri



These were great, Qzzy! :)))))

12/24/2010 #13

Those were absolute love, Qzzy. :)

12/25/2010 #14


I love you. ♥

12/25/2010 #15

Blake, you man whore. XDDDDDDDD

These are so fucking brilliant, Qzilla.

♥ ♥ ♥ ♥

12/25/2010 . Edited 12/25/2010 #16
Cerulean City


Bloody brilliant!

"I shall marry them all."

Loved every one!

1/2/2011 #17

"Tell me why you're here," she said threateningly. "Mother Leilah is not too far away. I could still call her."


I can't believe I missed this thread.


"Hurry, little children!" their mother, Leilah cried, leaping from her rocking chair.

Fuck yeah, rocking chair~

Rayne loved her grandmother, Leilah, very, very much.

*giggles* I like where this is going...

Instead of trembling like a little girl and weeping, she promptly kicked him in the groin and booked it into the forest.


"I'm Rane," he answered. "I woke you. With a kiss." Tucker Leah touched her lips and stared at him. "I love you," he said, covering his mouth in horror. He'd just met this girl! But she only smiled.

"My name is Tucker Leah," she said. "Do you still love me?"

"Yes," he answered.

"I dress like this every day. Do you still love me?"


"I am the princess. Do you still love me?"


"Then will you marry me?"

"Yes," he answered with a gulp. Tucker Leah smiled.

"Then I love you, two."


Once upon a time, in a kingdom far, far away, there lived a king named Lance. Lance had been depressed ever since his wife had died, leaving him to raise and marry off their twelve daughters on his own.


Fuck yeah, I have twelve kids.

ILU, Qzil. I liked all the parts with me in it~

1/28/2011 #18


4/30/2011 #19


4/12/2012 #20

The Knitter's Justice.

Once upon a time, in a land very far away, there lived a princess named Hannah, but everyone called her Knit, because that was the one activity she loved. Knit grew up in a fine castle, wiht the finest dresses, and had everything she could ever want.

One day, her mother died. And the woman he remarried was cruel to Knit. Jealous of the love the girl's father had for her, the woman set out to make her life a living hell. When Knit's father died from a mysterious illness, it only got worse. Having already birthed a son, and not needing a girl that was not her own to take care of, she stripped Knit of all her things and sent her to a cold tower cell to die. The only thing Knit kept was her needles, and yarn was smuggled in by serving girls and kitchen wenches. But after they were caught at it once, and one girl was flayed for her insubordination, Knit discovered that she had a wonderful gift. With just a thought, any inanimate object could become yarn.

At first it only worked on small, flat things. Her straw bed turned to the finest yarn Knit had ever seen, and with it she occupied herself by making a long, golden blanket. Soon she ran out of straw, and worked her way to other things. The tin dishes from her meals turned into thin silver yarn at her touch, and her brass cups shone like the finest copper thread. But soon even those were gone. And, in a fit of daring, she tried it on the stones of her tower. They, too, gave way to her powers, and with the yarn she magicked Knit made herself a fine gray rope to lower herself from the tower.

She took her needles and ran for the woods. There, she learned to survive. The yarn she made from the trees was a strong as the bark itself, and with it she made snares that could hold up a man twice her weight. For a time she was safe in the woods, until the hateful Queen sent a Huntsman to track her down.

The Huntsman was a ruthless warrior, who had before slew babes at their mother's breasts and burned mead halls with the drinkers still inside. He chased Knit through the forest with the fury of the devil, his sword cutting through her snares and other traps like a knife through butter. Knit only fled deeper into the woods, but everyday the Huntsman followed. He was a great and terrible knit, and she was only a young girl. On the fifth day he caught her trying to scramble up a tree. As he drew her down, Knit's hand scraped the bark roughly, and she bled.

He held her by her hair and reached to slit her throat. Scrambling, Knit placed her hands over his and closed her eyes, wishing that he gift worked on living things.

With a crash she fell to the forest floor. She scrambled onto her back and stared down at the place where the Huntsman had been. In his place there was a great coil of yarn, colored black and red and peach. Knit smiled to herself, glanced at her hands, and began to walk toward the palace.

On her way through the forest, Knit sharpened her knitting needles. They were old, and made of bamboo, and yielded easily to her hands. The trek took days. But, finally, she made it to the palace. The guards were upon her at once, but Knit slashed her palm open with her sharpened needles, and when she touched them they fell into piles of yarn the color of their uniforms.

When she reached the throne room, the queen sat unguarded, her child in a small cradle next to the throne. The woman launched herself at Knit and locked her hands around her throat. The girl only laughed and touched her hand to the woman's face. Like the others before her, she melted away to yarn over Knit's body. It was black, and slimy to the touch. After she stood up, Knit walked over to the cradle and gently lifted her brother before sitting on the throne.

The guards found her there, and by then they had learned of her power. They fell to their knees before her, declaring her the rightful Queen. Knit only laughed, and said that she was no ruler, but the babe in her arms would one day be. All she wanted was the life she had before her father had remarried. She would rule for a time until her brother came of age, and then she would gladly give him the kingdom.

They had the yarn that had been her stepmother burnt. It gave off a foul smell that reminded Knit of death. Even so, she raised her baby brother into an honorable King, and retired to her knitting. She never used her gift on another human again. And, after her death, many remarked that the yarn she created had been the finest seen in the world, and mourned that it would never surface again.

Until her granddaughter, a girl of six, desperately wanted out of her cradle for a glass of water. Her maids found her in her bedchamber the next morning, sleeping on a pile of fine, strong yarn. Her gift lived on, and her name was remembered.

The End.

4/15/2012 #21


a fairytale

by Qzzy

(from, according to tumblr, a year ago)


Once upon a time there was a lovely Queen named Jenny, who ruled by the side of her other Queen, Jessica. The couple yearned for a child, but since they were both female, they were unable to have one. With their biological clocks ticking, the two rules went to Julia, the only witch in their whole Domain.

"I can grant you a child," said the witch. "But if I do, you must agree to marry her to my son, so that he may become king." The two queens had no choice but to agree, and promised the witch that their children would wed. The witch then handed them a small, round bottle. "Drink this in a glass with the milk of a mother goat, and you will find yourself pregnant," the witch instructed. The queens played rock-paper-scissors, and Jessica, losing the epic battle, drank the potion.

True to the witch's word, the young queen soon became pregnant with a child. The two were overjoyed, and began making preparations for the new baby.

The months passed quickly, and Queen Jessica grew larger by the day. Witch Julia visited often, bringing her son Blake with her. She gave the Queen tonics to soothe her pain and pregnancy cravings, and keep her ankles from swelling up too much.

Some time later, in the dead of night, the young Queen went into labor. After many hours of screaming obscenity and insulting her wife's Red heritage, the princess arrived. She was beautiful, with hair Red as fire and eyes Blue as the sea. She seemed intelligent even upon her arrival, gazing at the world around her with wonder. The queens named their beautiful daughter Kyota, and for a time it seemed the child would unite the still-fighting Reds and Blues of the kingdom, who believed the Queen's union unholy. The baby was removed for changing and nursing, and the witch began administering the medical marijuana and potions needed to clam the new mothers.

As the princess grew she became beautiful and smart, preparing for the day when her mother's would give the throne up to her and her future husband. While she liked him well enough, she did not want to marry him, as he did not like coffee, her most sacred drink. He did not want to marry her, either, for he was in love with several simple peasant girls.

"We should run away," the princess declared one day as the two ate, "and refuse to come back unless they let us marry someone else."

The boy agreed, and the two set off for the woods, leaving a note that said they would return only when they could chose who they could marry.

The witch's son and the princess walked through the woods for many hours, both frightened by the creatures they encountered. Deadly snakes, giant spiders, and man-eating plants only some of the dangers they had to face. But through Blake's magic abilities and Kyota's combination of sensible shoes and ability to use a sword, they made it out of the woods and into the neighboring kingdom.

The neighboring kingdom was a bitter, lonely hell, full of ugly beggars who hissed words and scrabbled at the well-dressed pair. The princess and wizard asked a beggar what had happened, for they had heard the kingdom was a peaceful place.

"It is most terrible, young lady," the beggar began. "The dragon on the hilltop comes down and steals our treasure and eats our children. It took our magical jewel that gives the land crops and helps us prosper. We will die without it." The princess and wizard, being good guys, promised to aide the kingdom. After a three-day trek to the dragon's lair, the two came upon the monster's cave. They saw the jewel, large and glittering, on top of a pile of gold. They took note of the bones surrounding the cave entrance and advanced carefully, stealing shields off of the dead and preparing to enter the lair.

The dragon was fierce, and the battle raged on for many hours. The prince used his magic to wound the beast, levitating the princess and several of the dead men's swords. At last, the prince ran a sword through the creature's throat as the princess retrieved the jewel.

The townsfolk were overjoyed at the return of their treasure, and Kyota and Blake watched in awe as life began to return to the land. The townsfolk offered them gold and jewels from the dragon's lair, but they refused.

"We have all that we need," the princess told them. "Please use it to rebuild your lives."

The two soon left, trying to get further away from their home kingdom, but the stories of their kind deed went faster than they, and in every town they stopped in someone asked for help. A dragon or ogre needed to be killed, a child needed to be saved, or a corrupt official run out of town. Word of their great deeds spread far and wide, all the way back to their home kingdom.

"Witch Julia, you must bring the children home!" Queen Jenny cried. "She's the only one in the palace who can make good chocolate chip cookies!"

"Besides," Queen Jessica added, "They could actually get hurt out there!"

The witch nodded at the Queens. Taking her broomstick from the wall, she hopped on it and hovered a few inches above the Queens.

"Maybe you should wear pants," Queen Jenny suggested.

"Yeah, purple isn't your colour," Queen Jessica chimed in. "Actually, it isn't anyone's colour. Blue, on the other hand…"

"We don't have time for color wars!" Julia hissed. "I shall go and find our children and bring them back here. In three days time they shall marry, whether they wish to or not!"

The Queens watched the witch fly away and shrugged. "Why did we want a kid again?" asked Jenny. Jessica shrugged.


Meanwhile, the two children had reached a village that was not in need of help, and were enjoying their day off. Kyota was down by the river, talking with a peasant named Cass, while Blake was in the pub, talking with a wife-and-wife team of girls named Natz and Ceri. The two girls chatted happily with some other peasants, who were talking about the colour wars in neighboring kingdoms.

"Yeah, some Reds and Blues weren't too happy when the queens united the two kingdoms," one Red said, hugging her Blue wife close. "I don't see the problem, though. Both my spouses are Blue!"

Another Red nodded, patting her on the head. "I was Blue. I switched, though. There was conflict in my kingdom, and I was offered a better life."

Kyota listened intently as Cass braided her hair. Was the colour problem really so bad?

"But," the second Red piped up, "I hear the queen's had a daughter that's destined to unite the Reds and Blues! She'll bring peace because she is part of both teams."

Kyota pondered this as the group chatted. Had she done wrong in leaving home? Did her mother's really need her?

Suddenly, there was a loud crack, and Julia stood in front of her, smiling. "Why hello, little Kyota," she said. "Enough playing hero; it's time to come home." The witch grabbed the girl's wrist and began to tug her forward when Cass smacked her to the ground, blonde girls flying wild.

"You leave her alone, you old witch!" the peasant girl yelled. Julia sent magic her way, freezing the girl. Grabbing her by the hair, the witch pulled her off the ground.

"I'll teach you to respect your elders, you little…" she growled. Her opposite hand cracked with lightening as the peasant's eyes watered with pain.

"Stop! Don't hurt her!" Kyota yelled, pulling out her sword and threatening the witch. The witch smiled.

"Drop the sword and come quietly, and I won't do anything to her."

Kyota dropped the sword, defeated, as the witch cast magic over her. The princess felt her hands snap behind her back as if tied together by rope. Laughing, the witch dropped Cass to the ground and threw Kyota on her broom.

"You will marry my son, and I will put you somewhere safe until that happens," the witch whispered. Kyota looked down at Cass, who's eyes were wide with fear.

"It'll be okay," Kyota told her, mouth barely moving. The witch took off for the pub and her son, leaving the peasant crying on the grass.

The witch had placed princess Kyota in a large tower that smelt like boiled cabbage and tied her to a chair up there. "I will be back in three days," the witch had told her, before leaving. Kyota assumed that she was going to place her son in a similar situation. Sighing, the princess struggled at the ropes. "How could this happen to me?" she wailed. "I know how to fight! I wear sensible clothes and shoes! I don't even have a love interest!" Her struggling only knocked the chair over and sent her falling toward the floor. She sighed again."Fuck my life."

If she had counted correctly, the witch would be coming back later that night to marry Kyota to her son. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, since polygamy was in vogue, she could always marry someone she liked.

Hearing someone climbing the stairs to the tower, Kyota shut her eyes.It's probably the witch, come to get me early!she thought. The door banged open, and Kyota twisted her head to see the peasants from the neighboring kingdom standing in the stairwell, Cass and another boy she'd never seen before in the lead.

"Kyota!" the peasant girl cried, picking the chair up off the ground as the man set to work on the ropes. "Blake told us this is where you were. He and Natz are setting your parent's free with Ceri!" she explained. The ropes fell from her arms and Cass took her hands, pulling her out of the chair.

"I can't leave the tower!" Kyota cried. "It's spelled!"

"Well, you know how to break spells in fairy tales, don't you?" Cass asked. Kyota shook her head and Cass leaned forward and kissed her.


The peasants pulled her through the barrier and down the tower steps, shoving her onto a horse when they got outside. The boy handed her a sword.

"It was my father's," he explained, thick Australian accent clouding his words. "It is not much, but it is a weapon. The witch has your parent's captive since they told her they didn't want to force you kids to go through with the wedding. We haven't much time to get to your home and kill her."

Kyota stared at the faces of the peasants, many of whom she knew from surrounding villages and kingdoms. After a moment, she raised her sword.

"Let's go kick some ass!"

The witch sat next to her cauldron, mixing a brew that would poison the queens should the princess not go through with the wedding.

"How dare you, Julia?" Jessica yelled, struggling against the chains that held her. "We've treated you like family!"

"Yeah! We even legalized drugs so you could sell those potions!" Jenny said, sitting calmly in her chair. "I mean, this is really uncool, dude. And I'm hungry."

"Silence!" Julia hissed, adding the final ingredient to the potion. "For too long I have watched you two muck up this kingdom. After our children are wed I shall eliminate you! Using mind control, they will be but my puppets and do my bidding. Should the peasants revolt, it is their heads that will roll!"

"It's a conspiracy!" both queens yelled, mouths dropping open. Even as they said it, they didn't want to believe it was true.

"Yes!" the witched hissed, pulling a small vial from her pocket. She scooped some of the liquid up and corked it, smiling to herself. "Soon, you shall die! And I will have control of this Domain!"

"Never!" yelled a voice from the doorway. Looking up, the witch saw her son in the doorway, flanked by two women holding shovels. "This has gone on long enough. Mind control? Not letting me marry who I want? Limiting me to one wife?! You're a monster!"

Mother and son flew at each other as Blues and Reds loyal to the witch streamed into the room. Lightening crackled in both their hands as they faced off, hurling magick at each other. Kyota's horse banged the door open with its hooves as the peasants rushed in, aiding Ceri and Natz in facing off the traitors.

"When she is queen, the Kingdoms will once again separate! No long will I have to look at a Blue while I walk down the street! We shall be one kind!" one of the witch's Reds hissed, sword hitting the head of Ceri's shovel. Natz rushed to the aide of her wife, and together the two women began taking down the Reds and Blues around them.

Kyota searched the crowd for her mothers, using the borrowed sword she whacked enemies out of her way. She had abandoned her horse near the door, opting to lose herself in the crowd on foot. She saw Cass tumble out of the crowd, clutching a garden hoe as if her life depended on it. Blood dripped from a wound above her eye and covered her dress, but she was smiling.

"I've found them!" she told Kyota. "My husband is getting the chains off them so they can join the fight. Kyota smiled as Cass took her hand and led he through the crowd. "Blake is taking on the witch. We can win this, Ky! I know we can! This is so cool! It's like we're assassins!"

Kyota let the peasant girl ramble on on they fought their way through the crowd. By the time they reached her parents, the Australian had wrestled the chains off her mothers. Kyota threw herself at them, pulling them both into a hug.

"I'm sorry," she said. "This wouldn't have happened if we hadn't left."

"No, we wouldn't have found the traitors if you hadn't left," Jessica growled. She picked one of the chains up and swung it around her head like a lasso. "Now, we're going to kick some ass!" The queens gave their daughter a quick kiss on each cheek and charged into the crowd, looking for the witch.

Meanwhile, Blake was battling his mother. Matched in skill, the witch and the wizard hurled magick at each other. Holes appeared on the floor where spells had missed their mark. Curtains, and some people, were ablaze around them. Blake stepped around the body of a fallen Blue, fire building in his palm. He could tell his mother was getting weak, for even though their skills were equal, his youth gave him the advantage. He let the fireball fly at the witch. She tried to use her own magick to prevent it, but was too slow in her old age. She let out a howl of pain as it struck her in the face. Her body ignited instantly as she fell to the floor, in too much pain to use her own magic. Soon, she was nothing but ash on the carpet. When the rebels saw their leader had fallen, their weapons fell from their hands.

"Arrest them!" Queen Jenny yelled to her remaining guards. The rebels fled or bowed in defeat, while the peasants cheered. They raised their makeshift weapons, mostly tools and kitchen knives. Kyota walked over to Blake and put her hand on her friend's shoulder.

"Are you alright?" she asked, staring at the black stain on the carpet.

"I think so," the wizard said, staring at his own hands. "I can't believe I did that. But I can't believe what she was planning to do, either." Kyota hugged him.

"We'll be fine," she told him. Blake nodded, smiling when Ceri and Natz ran over.

"Princess Kyota! Wizard Blake!" Natz said, practically jumping up and down. "The queen has offered us all places in the Kingdom. With the evil witch defeated and the rebels arrested or driven out, this Domain can be at peace!" Natz hugged her wife, the two practically crying.

Kyota felt her knees buckle as she sank to the ground, exhausted. They had defeated the witch, and all would be peaceful. She smiled when Cass and her husband walked up to her and sat down, one on each side.

"Hey," they said at the same time, grabbing her hands.

"We're staying, too," Cass told her. Kyota's smile got wider.

She had friends. She had the freedom to marry anyone she wanted. Her kingdom was at peace.

Life was like some sort of fairytale.

Also: THE END.

4/15/2012 . Edited 4/15/2012 #22

The first T/D Christmas story. But without any formatting because FFnet is a whore and you can fuck off if you think I'm looking for the bits that should be italicised across 5,000 words.


The Domain's Christmas Carol

The old man walked down the dark, silent street, his black shoes crunching heavily through the thick snow. The chilled wind whipped through his coat, but he cared not. He was Aydeenezer Scrooge, and he was a complete and utter bastard. His heart was cold as winter's ice; black and emotionless, and, after his business partners, the Marley brothers, died from suspicious circumstances, he was now the sole proprietor of The Domain. The Domain was a huge company where n00bs were sent to be rehabilitated. They either saw the errors of their ways, joining the ranks of The Domain's workforce, or were ripped apart by the demons within, their souls shattered.

They would never find eternal rest.

The n00bs that did not make it out alive were plucked and gutted, sent home to the workers' families as food in the harsh months before Christmas. A considered delicacy amongst the Dominions, many were forced to pay for such a revelled luxury.

Scrooge opened the door to his factory, and all fell silent, the workers remaining as still as mice. One wrong move could result in them being cast into the |o17 0ph |)35|o41|2. No one who went in there ever came back the same. Many tore their own eyes out escape from the l337. Broken and full of sorrow, these ruined men and women were cast out onto the street, forced to live off whatever they could find. It was the ultimate punishment, and Scrooge had no qualms about handing it out readily.

"Cyn, Bluey, Jayde, Alette, Streameh!" Scrooge barked, and the present employees scrambled into line, quivering in fear. "Where is Ambob Cratchit?"

"H-he's tidying up the remains of the last batch of n00bs in your office, Sir!" Streameh said quickly, and Scrooge nodded, striding past them, his coat billowing behind him. There was a silence as the door shut behind him.

"Thank God, he's gone," Bluey said, sighing happily. Alette nodded to her.

"How can he treat us so badly?" she asked, fidgeting.

"Because none of us have the guts or the money to stand up to him, that's why," snapped Streameh, who wasn't really there anyway.

"One of these days, I'm going to take his money and make a run for it back to my box," Cyn said sadly. "Would any of you help?"

"You Know What They Do To Guys Like Us In Prison?" Jayde said, shaking her head in alarm.


"Mr. Cratchit, how goes the recent n00b transaction?" Scrooge boomed, sitting himself at his desk and pulling out a bag full of gold, before tipping it out onto the wooden surface. The money clattered noisily, but did not fall off the desk. Scrooge dragged it all towards him and began counting it, whilst Cratchit placed a steaming plate of n00b broth before him. Scrooge ignored it, looking instead at his secretary suspiciously.

"Why the niceties? What do you want from me today, Cratchit?"

"W-well, Mr. Aydeenezer Scrooge, Sir," Ambob Cratchit mumbled, "I was wondering-"

"Speak up, man, and be quick about it! Time is money, and lack of money means more n00bs in the world!"

"I was wondering, as it is Christmas tomorrow, could we have the day off to celebrate with our families?"

There was a long silence, in which Cratchit began to wonder if he had made a huge mistake. He could lose his job, or even worse, get thrown into the |o17 0ph |)35|o41|2.

"Who is this we you refer to?" Scrooge said finally.

"All of your employees, Sir. We believe Christmas is a time of love, peace and rest-"

"Peace?" Scrooge snorted. "Love and rest? Bah, sparklesparklefailmagic! Christmas is a time for work and effort: to catch the n00bs while they roam the streets looking for shelter from the cold! However, I am a reasonable man. I will allow you all tomorrow off one condition."

"Yes, Sir?"

"The Marley brothers never had any vision. They only sought to torture n00bs! By the end of their lives, though, they began to soften, believing that treating n00bs and trolls with kindness would make them repent. They did not want to be as rich as they could have been! I tried many a time to make them accept my ideas, but no! They would not!"


"I see past the n00bs…to something much greater…Fail."

Ambob Cratchit gasped in horror and shock.

"You don't mean…?" he began, his question trailing off, so stunned that he was. Scrooge smiled triumphantly.

"I shall harness the ultimate power of Fail and use it for my own! There is so much Fail in the world…people using its power without discretion! However, if we became the ones to legally manufacture Fail, it is our God given right to charge for every single act of Fail that happens! I would be rich!"

"But by making the Fail, won't we become Fail ourselves?"

"Now, see, I have thought about this greatly…for a long time. I have come to the solid conclusion that we will Fail so much…that we will be Win."

Cratchit could only stare in terror and wonder. Had Aydeenezer Scrooge finally lost his mind? To toy with the immense power of Fail and Win, the two forces of the universe that kept the lives of millions in check…it was unthinkable. What could he do though? He had to think of his family; he had to help Scrooge, lest the |o17 0ph |)35|o41|2 would be waiting for him.

"Cratchit," Scrooge continued, "the day after your Christmas, we begin the research on Fail and Win. Double overtime. Now, I want you and the others to pack away everything for the night."

Scrooge stood up and knocked the bowl of n00b broth off the desk. Ignoring it, he strode towards the door that led out of his office.

"Good evening, Mr. Cratchit," he said, and then left.

"Good evening to you, too, Aydeenezer Scrooge," Cratchit said quietly, before stooping down to clear up the broken bowl of broth.


Settling down into bed that night, Scrooge was pleased with himself. The thought of all the money and riches he would acquire by controlling Fail excited him, and he could not wait for the day after Christmas. He could not see what those fools loved so much about the pointless day, and sneered at their joy.

"Bah, sparklesparklefailmagic!"

A sudden bout of tiredness washed over Scrooge, and he decided that sleep was probably the best answer. What would he do tomorrow, with no work to keep him occupied? He could research Fail…or he could count some money and laugh at those in the streets who had none. Smiling to himself, he snuggled down into his warm sheets, and glanced at the clock upon his wall – ten minutes to the hour of ten. He turned over, getting himself comfortable, deciding the money gloating option would be the best activity for the following day, and closed his eyes.

What felt like almost immediately, Scrooge's eyes snapped open again, but he knew time had passed, for the clock now read ten exactly. The room was cold, unnaturally so, and an eerie kind of dark. Corners seemed glow, and the atmosphere felt heavy and sluggish. Bright shadows flickered across the room, and Scrooge could hear his name being whispered repeatedly.

"Who is there?" he yelled, standing up and waving his fists about. "Show yourself, you cowardly dogs!"

"Aydeenezer Scrooge…" a voice whispered directly in front of him. "Aydeenezer Scrooge…Aydeenezer Scrooge… This isn't working, is it?"

"You know," said another voice, with a strange, drawling accent, "I don't think he can see us. Did you turn the power on before we started?"

"Oh, buggeration. Give me a minute."

"You dumbass."

"Well, I can't bloody well help it! It's usually your job to-"

"Just turn the damn thing on, you fucking Bluetard!"

"Hey, at least I'm not an InbRed!"

Suddenly two ghosts appeared in front of Scrooge, one Red and the other Blue. Scrooge yelled in horror and threw himself back onto his bed, but the ghosts didn't appear to notice.

"Look, just because you're British, and therefore a bit inferior, does not mean I should have to do all the work all the time!"

"All the work…? What the fuck, Jacob? I'm the one doing all the technical shit! You just sit there eating your way through packets of spectral cinnamon buns and making noises of effort!"

"…Your point?"

"My point is – wait a second. Why are you Blue?"

"And why are you Red?"

The two ghosts looked down at themselves, and then began screaming and flailing their arms.

"Ohhh, the shame, the shame!" shrieked the Red ghost putting its hands to its face and wailing loudly.

"I can't believe I'm a dirty Blue!" cried the Blue ghost. "Gettitoff!"

Scrooge sat up, uncertain if he was dreaming or not, realising who was before him. He only knew two people who loved Red and Blue to such an extreme.

"Jacob and Lance...Marley?" he said loudly, and the two ghosts stopped the dramatics instantly.

"That would be us," said Lance, talking over Jacob before he had a chance to speak. Jacob cleared his throat.

"We have come back to you with a warning," he said, putting on his best ghost voice.

"You must not harness all the Fail in the Universe," Lance continued, using his ghost wail to the best of his ability.

"That's not our warning, dumbshit!" Jacob cried suddenly and Lance sighed in relief.

"Well, thank God, because I think it's an awesome idea!"

"Look, Aydeenezer," Jacob said, rolling his eyes at Lance, "the thing is, we were assholes back when we were alive. Now we suffer for it by being the wrong colour for all eternity. The problem is, each time we materialise, we forget, so we have to constantly relive that moment of horror over and over."

"Didn't you once say that Red was Blue and Blue was Red?" Scrooge asked, glaring at Lance, who was rooting through his underwear drawer.

"That's what killed us," Lance said, standing up and waving a pair of ratty underpants about, before throwing them at Jacob's head. "We thought about Red and Blue reversed too much. The sheer power of such thoughts made our brains asplode. So now, every time we wonder if our colour is actually right, because Red and Blue is reversed, our colours change to their opposite, and the pain continues."

"We were dicks in life, Aydeenezer, and we want you to avoid the same fate," Jacob continued. Scrooge shrugged.

"I don't really care about being Red or Blue. I'm more partial to Purple myself."

The two ghosts gasped in shock.

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that," Jacob muttered, clenching his fists. Lance took a deep, ghostly breath and carried on where the other had left off.

"Each person's idea of hell is different. I think, for you, one of the many levels of hell would be being castrated whilst at the same time in a room full of burning American fla-"

"What must I do to save myself?" Scrooge said quickly, his heart filled with fear.

"You will be visited by three ghosts," said Jacob. "The ghost of Christmas Past, Present, and of Christmas Yet To Come. Take heed to their warning, Aydeenezer, and you may yet see salvation."

"Alright, I shall."

"…Is that it? No questions of the afterlife? Is there a God? All that shit?"

"No, I'm good."


The Blue ghost looked over at the Red one and shrugged.

"Wanna go watch some RvB? Looks like we've finished early today."

"Yeah, sure."

The ghosts started to fade away, the sound of a little guitar tune twanging in the distance.

"The first ghost arrives at eleven!" Jacob shouted suddenly.

"So get some sleep in the meantime!" Lance followed up.

Then they were gone.


True to their words, the ghost arrived as the clock chimed eleven. One minute Scrooge was asleep, the next he opened his eyes to find a bright entity floating directly above him, the tip of their nose touching his. He yelled and sat up, moving straight through her. She simply disappeared and materialised in front of him.

"Are you the ghost of Christmas Past?" he asked quietly, and the ghost nodded. She was in the shape of a young, black girl, with long, dazzling silver hair.

"How are you doing, my bitch?"


"Yeah! You were always someone's bitch in the past, and as I am the past, you're now mine!"

"I…see. What do you wish to show me, spirit?"

"How much of a cock-up you've made of your life!"

She waved her hand happily, and suddenly Scrooge found himself in a packed tavern, bustling with light and joy. People walked through him, not paying him the slightest bit of attention, and he realised he was but a ghost to them.

"I recognise this place…!" he whispered in disbelief. "This is where I got my first job! It's old Flamehwig's place!"

The spirit pointed with a huge grin on her face to the corner, where a man sat, surrounded by people with long hair, bright colours, and flowers. This was Flamehwig, the secret Hippie. Scrooge watched as he rolled up pot and dished it out to everyone with ease, the speed in which he dealt simply amazing. Then Flamehwig stood up and walked over to a young man. Scrooge was stunned. It was his younger self.

"Scrooge, m'boy!" Flamehwig cried, clamping a hand heavily to the young Scrooge's shoulder, nearly knocking him over into a nearby table. "Have I ever introduced you to this fine young lady, Miss Kelle?"

Scrooge was dragged through the tavern and pushed into a small room, which contained a single girl. She wore a long black dress, had black hair, pale skin, and dark makeup.

"You wear, uh, interesting clothes," young Scrooge said, desperately wanting to make conversation. Kelle smiled.

"It's Not A Fashion Statement, It's A Deathwish," she said softly, her voice sounding like spun silver to his ears.

Scrooge watched as the night progressed between his younger self and Kelle, remembering every moment of it well. Finally, there was a knock at the door whilst the two were in mid conversation. It was time to go.

"Goodbye, Kelle," younger Scrooge said sadly. "Will I see you soon?"

Now, but I can't, and I don't know how. We're just two men as God had made us. Well, I can't...well, I can! Too much, too late, or just not enough of this pain in my heart for your dying wish, I'll kiss your lips again."

With that brief bit of poetry out of the way, she swooped down upon him.

The memory faded to white, and Scrooge found himself in the snow once more. There he saw a scene he had almost forgotten about with age.

"Kelle," said younger Scrooge, folding his arms, "I am leaving you. You owe too much money, and it is bad standing for someone such as myself to be associated with you-"

"You are never coming home..." Kelle said loudly, "never coming home. Could I? Should I? And all the things that you never ever told me.... And all the smiles that are ever, ever..."


"Ever..." Kelle continued, ignoring Scrooge. "What's the worst that I can say? Things are better if I stay? So long and long and goodnight. And if you carry on this way...are things are better if I stay? So, so long and long and goodnight."

The younger Scrooge simply stared. He had often questioned Kelle's sanity, and the doubts were arising again.

"And though you're dead and gone, believe me; your memory will carry on. We'll carry on! And in my heart I can't contain it, the anthem won't explain it." Suddenly, Kelle's mood changed dramatically, and she turned to Scrooge, her face twisted in hate.

"And after all this time, that you still owe, you're still the good-for-nothing I don't know. So take your gloves and get out...better get out while you can!"

Scrooge shrugged and turned to leave, but Kelle's voice stopped him again.

"When you go, would you even turn to say, 'I don't love you like I did yesterday'? Well, come on; come on: when you go, would you have the guts to say, 'I don't love you like I loved you yesterday'?"

Scrooge shrugged again.

"I don't love you like I-" he began, but Kelle cut across him once more.

"I don't love you like I loved you yesterday...I don't love you like I loved you yesterday," she spat, and with that, flounced off down the country lane that lead back into town. Scrooge stared.


It had taken her long enough to fuck off.


The spirit returned Scrooge to his room, her mouth pulled back into a huge smile.

"Well, wasn't thatfun?" she said gleefully. "See you later, bitch!"

The Ghost of Christmas Past disappeared, and Scrooge was left alone once more. Sighing with relief, he lay down on his pillows and shut his eyes.

Peace at last....


Scrooge's eyes snapped open as the clock struck twelve. Was he ever going to get some sleep tonight?

"Clearly you did not hear my grand entrance. That's OK. I'll just do it again, but even more grand and shit," said a voice to his right. Grumbling, Scrooge turned over to see a young girl dressed in red and white colours, who was foaming at the mouth and astride a magnificent and rather bored looking moose. A holy light shone all around her, combined with halleluiah music.

"I am the ghost of Christmas Present! Hear me roar! Growl!" she cried, and began growling at Scrooge in a threatening way.

"Are you rabid?" he asked, unable to take his eyes away from the foam that was increasing rapidly from her mouth. The girl laughed loudly.

"Ah ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...yes. Yes, I am. Rabid Canadian, don't you know? Now, I'm here to show you how much everyone hates you and enjoys Christmas without you."

"Christmas? Bah, sparklesparklefailmagic."

"You say the Fail's name in vain?" the spirit gasped, before making the sign of the Fail, the Win, and the Holy Cockroach (Amen). Even the moose managed to pull itself out of its stupor and look as fearful as a moose can look for a few seconds, before returning to its original expression. Scrooge sighed and walked over, before climbing on the moose alongside her.

"To the Cratchit's house!" she cried, flicking foam all over his bed sheets and forcing the moose into a dull walk. They moved through the walls of his house and out onto the street, ambling slowly as possible. The sun blinded him as Christmas day arrived, before finally stopping at a particular house.

"Go forth inside and see what you miss!" the spirit roared, her rabid foam now looking almost like a beard.

"Why can't you come inside with me?" Scrooge asked, confused.

"I am a Canadian! If we are separate from a moose for even a few minutes, we explode! Now, go!"

There was another flash of white light, and Aydeenezer Scrooge was stood next to Ambob Cratchit by his dining table. Cratchit got to his feet, glass in hand, preparing for a toast.

"I would just like to propose a toast to this family," he said, smiling happily at the merry faces looking at him. Scrooge thought he was going to be sick.

"To my darling wife, Memolina, you have kept me warm on so many cold, winter nights."

Memolina Cratchit giggled and blushed, smoothing out the creases of her pretty dress and raising her glass to him in return.

"To my daughter, Atomana. Your roast n00b served with generous portions of pregnant posts are the talk of the town."

Atomana sat and smiled smugly to herself.

"And finally, to my son, Tiny Toph. You've been an inspiration to us all, what with suffering from l337 poisoning recently. Everyone, not just your family and friends, hopes you recover soon."

"7|-|4|\||{ 90|_|," Tiny Toph replied, before going Red slightly at his own words. Then he leant forward and whispered into his father's ear.

"...Oh, alright," Ambob Cratchit said. "Toph would also like us to thank Mr. Aydeenezer Scrooge for providing us with this delicious n00b and pregnant posts for Atomana to cook."

"God bless that mother fucking, slutty, whore, bastard?" Memolina said loudly, pulling out a bag of marshmallows and getting ready to roast them over the fire. "God damn that mother fucking, slutty, whore, bastard Scrooge, instead, I say!"

"Language, dear," Ambob Cratchit said, wincing slightly. Memolina sighed.

"Oh, alright. God damn that motherfucking, slutty, whore, bastardMr.Scrooge, instead, I say!"

"Usually I would agree with you, but Toph asked us to do so and I think we should comply."

"The man is a cold, heartless motherfucker. I hope he rots in hell for all eternity. But God bless him, too."

Scrooge smiled happily to himself. Motherfucking, slutty, whore, bastard? Cold, heartless motherfucker? Rotting in hell for all eternity?

He never knew people said such nice things about him!

He walked outside again, receiving a scowl from the spirit at the big grin on his face.

"You're meant to be seeing the error of your ways with this, you know," she grumbled, her rabid foam now giving her a very fetching afro, as well as the beard. Scrooge snorted with laughter, but said nothing. Then he suddenly found himself in his nephew's house. Kylaman himself was sat with his wife, Saoella, on his lap. His friends,Golde, Topaz, and Breezeh were all seated around him, and they appeared to be speaking, although their mouths did not move in time with the voice.

"IthinkthatScroogereallysmellsandheismean," said Kylaman, and his wife laughed.

"HAHAHAHAHA. Yes. I think he also smells and he needs to get a better suit, because that suit smells as well," she shouted. Topaz nodded in agreement.

"I don't think anyone has mentioned this. I shall say it just in case. Scrooge really-"

"Scrooge teh smelliest person EVAH!" Breezeh shrieked, causing Golde to jump.

"Yes, he is seriouslah smelleh!" she sang happily, and they all got up and left the room. The voices, however, continued as if people were still present.

"Like, if he was nicer and stuff to everyone, he would not smell. But he's nasty. So he does smell-"

"Spirit," Scrooge said, folding his arms and tapping his foot, "they've left the room. You can stop dubbing over their voices now."

"Oh. Really?"


Scrooge reappeared next to the spirit, whose entire head was now just a huge ball of foam.

"What happened to your head?" he asked, bewildered.

"As I am the Ghost of Christmas Present, I only live for the present. The day is nearly done and I am to die soon, suffocated by my own rabidness. The Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come shall be here soon. Best prepare yourself...Ughhh."

The spirit suddenly ceased to talk, and then fell sideways off her moose, dead. The moose looked at her momentarily, and then shuffled over to a patch of grass, eating it contently.

The next thing Scrooge knew, he was back in his bed, wide-awake.


When the clock struck one, Scrooge wasn't sure what to expect. Darkness and doom? Grand blasts of light? As he pondered this, his bedroom disappeared, and he found himself sat on a beach, a can of Foster's beer in one hand, a hat with corks hanging off it on his head.

"G'day, mate!" someone yelled in an Australian accent down his ear, and he dropped his can of Foster's in surprise.

"What in Fail's name?" he cried out, turning around to find a girl wearing a hat the same as his, shorts, a bright t-shirt, and sandals grinning up at him.

"I'm the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come!" she said, shaking his hand vigorously.

"Ghosts have Australian accents?"

"Well, considering how us Aussies live in the future, I was thought to be perfect for the job. Now, let's get down to business."

The ghost clicked her fingers, and Scrooge watched as the brilliant beaches dissolved into a morbid graveyard. The girl looked out of place with her tan and long, brownhair.

"Follow me," she said, and motioned for him to come closer. She led him up to the top of the hill, the wet mud seeping into his slippers as he walked. Finally, they reached a lone grave, with Ambob and Memolina Cratchit stood around it.

"What happened?" Scrooge asked the ghost.

"You know how Tiny Toph had l337 poisoning?" the spirit replied. Scrooge nodded, so she continued. "Well, eventually it took over, because Ambob couldn't afford to buy the grammar medicine to cure him, and he became a n00b. He was sent to your factory to be turned back, but he was too far gone in the end. The family requested a mercy killing, and then he was buried here, surrounded by concrete just in case he turned into a zombie. They visit every day."

Scrooge stared at his faithful secretary, Ambob, and for once in his life, began to feel guilty. He strived, not only for money, but also for the eradication of n00bs. Yet his actions had caused the n00bification of a small child? Children were the future! If the Cratchits, a strong anti-n00b family, had been hit with such an avoidable tragedy, then what of the people who knew not what they did? Something was seriously wrong here.

The ghost took Scrooge to a deeper part of the graveyard, to a certain patch of graves, all similar in appearance. They read the names Church, Wash, Sarge, York, Donut, Doc, Sister, Simmons, Tex, and Grif. The first nine simply had [x] engraved in their stone, but the tenth had [100] on it instead. Next to it, though, was grave with a list of ways to kill Grif.

Aydeenezer Scrooge remembered these people. Long ago, when Jacob and Lance Marley had been his business partners, they had hired others to eliminate those who could not pay their dues. Only Grif had been originally left alive by Jacob, simply to annoy Lance. Lance had murdered Simmons, who had been a good client of Jacob's, and so, in return, Jacob had ordered a hit on Church, an equally good client of Lance's. Lance had taken revenge shortly before he died, though, by hiring several people at once, each with a different method, to see who would be the most successful in killing Grif first.

Scrooge couldn't remember who had taken out the unlucky bastard in the end. It was irrelevant, really, but he noticed the ghost made the sign of the Fail, the Win, and the Holy Cockroach (Amen) when she walked by Grif's grave. He moved past the graves and towards a small stone cross by the muddy fields beyond. A group of people were there, digging up a corpse. He recognised them as his house servants.

"Hurry up, Rayne!" hissed Qzil, stuffing dirt clogged items into a bag.

"I can't believe we're grave robbing...I hope we don't get caught," said Hope.

"It was Rayne's idea! We best not show our faces around here again, you know," Qzil said, turning to Rayne, who had jumped inside the grave.

"A drink for the horror that I'm in – for the good guys and the bad guys – for the monsters that I've been. Three cheers for tyranny; unapologetic apathy, 'cause there ain't no way that I'm coming back again."

"I should hope not!" Hope grumbled, looking quite sick. "But don't you feel guilty for stealing from the dead?"

"Don't you breathe for me, undeserving of your sympathy, 'cause there ain't no way that I'm sorry for what I did."

"How low have we become...?" Qzil mumbled to herself. Rayne snorted.

"And now you wanna see how far down I can sink? Let me go, fuck! So, you can! Well now, so, you can! I'm so far away from you. Well now, so, you can!"

Rayne pulled open the coffin and pointed at the corpse inside.

"But does anyone notice? But does anyone care? And if I had the guts to put this to your head...But does anything matter if you're already dead?"

She looked back up at her companions.

"Tell me we go from here! You're not in this alone. Let me break this awkward silence, let me go, go on record; be the first to say I'm sorry. Hear me out, and if you take me down...or would you lay me out? And if the world needs something better...let's give them one more reason now!"

Qzil laughed, taking all the things off Rayne and stuffing them in her pockets.

"Yeah, you're right. We're in this together, and stealing all this asshole's stuff would do the world a favour! Now, quick! Stuff all this dirt back in the grave," Qzil said frantically, glancing over her shoulder.

"I hope this is worth something on the market, otherwise we'll have risked our lives for nothing...which I seriously hope we haven't!" Hope mumbled, helping fill the grave back up. When they had finished, they fled, not looking back. Only then did Scrooge approach.

"Well, that's a surprise," he said mildly, reading the grave. It said his name, and was dated only a year after the current date.

"After the death of Tiny Toph," the spirit said, "your work force rebelled against you. They felt your n00b reversal factory was only a way to extract cruelty onto others. They threw you into the |o17 0ph |)35|o41|2 and left you there. You turned into a creature of the l337, and was shot shortly afterwards."

"Oh, OK."

"It doesn't bother you that you died?"

"Nope. Once I'm dead, I'm dead. I'll get over it."

The ghost sighed in despair.

"You will never learn, Aydeenezer Scrooge...and without the running of your factory, The Domain, the world of grammar as we know it is doomed forever. L337 shall reign unchecked..."

Aydeenezer Scrooge suddenly awoke in his bed, the ghost's words unsettling him slightly, which surprised him. He looked to the window. It was Christmas morning.



Memolina Cratchit was busy slaving over the hot stove alongside her daughter, Atomana, trying their best to make the joint of n00b roast properly alongside the pregnant posts, when a knock sounded at the door. Sighing, she left the dinner in the care of her child and went to answer it. To her greatest horror, she found Aydeenezer Scrooge waiting for her, a small package in his hand.

"I have something for your son, Tiny Toph," he said, before letting himself in and approaching the boy. He handed him the parcel, and Toph unwrapped it, before staring at it in wonder.

"What is it, dear?" Memolina asked nervously, and Toph showed her, making her gasp. "Bottledflame?"

Tiny Toph uncorked it immediately, swigging the whole thing down in one gulp, before shuddering violently and spouting off violent abuse. As this happened, Scrooge quickly took out a bottle labelled MoFo!grammar, and forced Toph to drink it. He did so gratefully, and then fell silent. Both Aydeenezer and Memolina waited anxiously for the child to speak.

"...I can talk normally...?" Tiny Toph said, testing his speech, his eyes widening in amazement. "I can talk normally!"

The boy began to dance around the kitchen excitedly, hugging Atomana and his mother as he did. Memolina stared at him for a moment, and then shakily put across a question.

"Would...would you care to dine with us this Christmas, Mr. Aydeenezer Scrooge, Sir?"

"Nope," Scrooge replied bluntly. "I still hate Christmas, and I'm still a total bastard. However, I've realised that through my power and knowledge, I can restore the greatness grammar of the world. Good day, Mrs Cratchit. Tell your husband that all Fail plans have been postponed for the time being. There are more pressing matters at hand."

Memolina watched him leave the house.

"Now," she said to her daughter, "there's a man of character."


Aydeenezer walked down the street, feeling good about himself and hating every moment of it. He enjoyed being a git, so the warm fuzzies came as an alarming warning. Perhaps he should go kick a puppy? Scare a troll from its bridge and then set it on fire?

...Or maybe save more n00bs from a fate worse than death?

As he pondered this, he Failed to look as he crossed the road. The speeding bus hit him full on, sending him flying into the air.

"Son-of-a-bitch!" he yelled, before hitting the floor.


The world went white. Where was he? Heaven? Hell? Or maybe limbo? Perhaps-

"I don't give a damn about what you say, Jacob; colour is spelt with a 'u'."

"But it sounds so weird! Like, coloouuuurrr!"

Aydeenezer sat up, his ghostly form leaving his body behind, and spotted the Marley brothers arguing not far from his body.

"That's because you're saying it wrong, Redtard! Anyway, we invented the English language! So you're the one spelling it wrong!"

"Yeah, well you don't exist, Bluser, so you have no opinion."

"Stop bringing the same argument up all the time! It's irrelevant!"

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is not."

"Is too."

"Is not."

"Well, you were the one to say Blue was really Red, so, technically you don't exist either."

"...God damn it. I hate it when you're right."

Scrooge stared at the two ghosts and groaned.

"...Fuck," he said loudly. Jacob and Lance looked over at him.

"Merry Christmas, Aydeenezer," they said in unison.

"Bah, sparklesparklefailmagic."


The legacy of The Domain still lives on, even today, spreading its knowledge throughout Fan Fiction. As for the spirit of Aydeenezer Scrooge, he haunts Teh Internetz, giving flamers and con-critters alike the strength to continue with the Holy Crusade: to eradicate all illiteracy.

As for the n00bs, he mind fucks with them occasionally.


Finally, there is a moral here, dear readers. No matter how awesome you are, or how much of a bastard grammar-whore you may be,always look before you cross the fucking road.

The End.

4/17/2012 #23

The second T/D Christmas story. And again, fuck formatting. :D


Bludolph the completelywithoutasenseofdirection reindeer,

Couldn't even find her nose.

And if you ever saw it,

You'd wonder 'cuz the fucking thing glows. All of the other reindeer,

Avoided her directional tips.

They never let poor Bludolph,

Hold the map on any trips. Then one foggy Christmas Eve,

Shudolph did elope.

Saint Nick got high of his dope,

And asked Bludolph 'Can you cope?' Then all the reindeers panicked,

And they shouted in a fit 'Oh shit!'

Bludolph the completelywithoutasenseofdirection reindeer,

You'll make us all his-tor-y!


Bludolph, the Completelywithoutasenseofdirection Reindeer

"AD, will you keep still!" an elf with silver hair scolded, whacking his hands away from the bag full of presents. AD made a sad face, causing the female elf to falter slightly, and then sigh. "Look, just behave yourself until we finish this. I'd rather not be gang raped by a group of feminists with dildos, 'kay?"

AD beamed at her and nodded excitedly. The elf, whose name was Silver (thank God for creative parents,she often thought bitterly) couldn't understand why the hell Stanta had commissionedADof all elves to come with her on this job, but apparently it was either him or George. As pasta was a cheaper distraction than a tub of Nutella, AD had been chosen.

Each year, Stanta had his elves deliver Christmas presents a week early to certain groups in need. The homeless were one such group, as were citizens of third world countries (Stanta, however, kept far away from the Middle Eastern nations after the kidnapping incident; Silver had heard on the grapevine that Stanta had never gotten over the death of Jesus that terrible Christmas night). Feminists were another deprived group on his list, and so he always sent two of his elves with gifts to the Feminist Society headquarters, to better their lives.

As their destination drew closer, Silver checked the bags one last time to make sure all the gifts were in order, before lowering the mini sleigh towards the streets below. Each elf group was issued a self powered mini sleigh to allow quick transportation and delivery of presents. The real sleigh was currently being repainted after Stanta accidently flew it through a paintball arena the previous year.

There was a slight bump as the sleigh landed, skidding across the icy ground and slamming into an expensive looking car. The minis were really cheap pieces of shit, with terrible brakes, but there was little the elves could do about it. They just had to hope for the best each time they rode in them.

Silver hopped out of the vehicle and took hold of the sack of presents, slinging it over her shoulder. AD also clambered out, holding a box out in front of him.

"Be careful with that," Silver snapped, before walking inside the building. AD followed.


"Men are nothing but sperm donors!" a woman cried, waving around her recently unwrapped dildo like a sword. "If all they gave was pleasure, we'd be fine without them!"

The women all around cried out in agreement. Silver sat huddled on her chair, occasionally casting wary glances at AD, who was eating pasta. The second that bowl started to get low, they'd have to go.

"Um, we have another present for you," Silver mumbled, taking the box from under AD's chair and passing it to the woman who had been shouting. She took it from the elf and set it upon the table, and then opening it. At once, her face lit up with happiness.

"Look, look at what we've got!" she said excitedly. The other feminists clambered around the box and then squealed with excitement. Inside was an enormous cake in the shape of a dildo. Silver sighed in relief; it had been a success. Now they could go-

"Little elves, despite one of you being with phallus, I would like to read you a poem to show our thanks for such kindness."

Or maybe not.

"Uh," Silver replied, unsure what to do. Refusing could anger them, and they were such temperamental creatures. Agreeing, however, could mean AD would finish his pasta before they left. Before Silver could decide, though, AD answered for her.

"Yay!" he replied, still eating. The feminist smiled and cleared her throat.

"Oh men, oh men,

How foolish you are,

How you wave your members

And our minds you scar!

How you oppress us

Rape and bewitch,

Oh how you say--"

"Shut the fuck up; get me a sammich!" AD piped up, interrupting her. Silver froze, and realised, with horror, that AD had, indeed, finished his pasta. She moved to grab him as a dildo zoomed like a spear towards the spot where she had just been sitting, imbedding itself in the chair.

Picking AD up, she ran as fast as she could out of the building, throwing him into the mini sleigh headfirst, and then jumping in herself, starting up the engine and shakily reversing up into the sky. As the sleigh began to fly away, the feminists came outside, throwing dildos at the sleigh and denting the metalwork.

"Go back to the kitchen!" AD yelled, tossing handfuls of condoms down at them.

"Where the hell did you get those from?" Silver asked breathlessly, her confusion overcoming her annoyance. AD held up a box of Twister that had been wedged underneath the sleigh seats.

"Came with this. Wanna play?"

Silver blinked. She opened her mouth to shout at him, paused, and then closed it again. She looked at the sleigh's Sat Nav.

"I guess we've got time," she replied, grinning as she put the auto pilot on.


The plains of Pieces of Heaven were in utter chaos.

"Shudolph! Shuuuuudolph! Where are you, Shudolph?"

"Shudi, Shudi! Come on, it's Christmas in a few days time! Stop with the games!"

Stanta Claus paced around frantically outside his doorstep as the calls for his most prized reindeer carried in the background. Every elf was on the case, looking for the red-nosed son of a bitch. This morning, his stall had been empty, as had Vixen's. Surely no one had kidnapped his two favourite reindeer? Unless…

Suddenly an elf appeared at his elbow, making him jump.

"Cass!" he cried, kneeling down to her. "Please say you have found something!"

Cass nodded solemnly and held a note out to him.

"I had all twenty of my children searching the stalls. One of them found this note under the hay. It looks like it fell there by accident; Shudolph would have wanted us to find it."

"What does it say?" Stanta asked desperately. Cass unfolded the note and read it aloud.

"Dear Stanta,

I am sorry to say this, but you can shove Christmas and your cat up your ass. I love Vixen, and we're eloping, because I want another wife. Oh, I hate Red. I can't believe you made me get a Red glowing transplant in my nose. I wanted Blue.

Fuck you,


"Give that here!" Stanta snapped, snatching the note and looking at it himself. He stared at it for a moment, and then eyed Cass with suspicion and bewilderment.

"Cass…this is just a piece of paper with a muddy hoof print on it. How the hell did you get all that from ahoof print?"

"It's a family talent."


Stanta could feel a sinking sensation in his stomach. Clearly Cass' hoof print analysis skills were sound, which meant, which meant…

"No!" Stanta moaned, putting a hand to his head. An elf ran up to him.

"Stanta, there is no sign of Shu--" George began.

"I know!" Stanta bellowed, and booted the elf with his foot, sending him soaring into the air, and then back down into the branches of a tree. "Go be useful and find me replacement reindeers, you little shit!"

George unhooked his clothes from the branches and fell straight from the tree, squeaking in pain as he made contact with the ground.

"Fine, arsehole," he muttered, before limping away.


Stanta sat in his armchair and hugged his cat tightly, unable to think straight. What could he do? Shudolph was gone! Then he noticed a bag full of green-brown leaf…things…on his desk. There was a little note attached, tied on with green ribbon. Setting his cat down, he leaned over and picked the small package up. The note read:

Merry Christmas, Stanta! Smoke this!


Cat xxx

Stanta opened the bag and sniffed it, wrinkling his nose at the smell. He turned to his cat.

"You gave me this?"

The cat meowed in response. This was good enough for Stanta. He put some in his pipe and lit it.

Hundreds of miles away, in a tower, a great evil lurked, watching Stanta's every moved.

The great evil laughed.


Bludolph the reindeer walked sadly along the pathway leading back to the village. Christmas was approaching, and yet again, she would not be allowed to help draw the sleigh to deliver gifts to little girls and boys across the world. Shudolph, as always, took the lead position, despite the fact that Bludolph's nose was just as bright, if not brighter, than Shudolph's. The only difference was that Bludolph's nose was blue, and Stanta liked to colour coordinate.

Also, her complete lack of sense of direction might have been another reason why she was continually ignored. Even though Shudolph was now missing, Bludolph would not be asked. She would always be denied the honour.


Bludolph jumped in surprise, and saw Stanta Claus staggering towards her, a big grin on his face.

"Stanta? Are you alright?" she asked uncertainly. Stanta giggled and stumbled, before deciding to sit down instead.

"Bludolph with…with…with your nose sooooo…um, wassthaword?"

"Bright?" Bludolph offered, not sure where the conversation was going. Stanta laughed loudly again.

"That'sssss right! Bright! Would you gui…guide my…sleigh tonight?"

"Uh, is this a joke, sir?"

"Nooooo…so do you…do you…do you want to or…or not?"

"I-I would be h-honoured, sir," Bludolph stammered in response, unable to believe it. He was really askingher?

"Gooooood…" Stanta replied, and then flipped over backwards, lying still on the floor.

Meanwhile, George was recruiting.

"Hey," the elf said, approaching a doe and grinning at her. "What's your name?"

"Dictionary." The doe looked highly amused at the little elf putting on a show for her. George put his hands on his hips and peered at her.

"Strong, shapely legs, well structured body, glossy fur; firm ass…how would you like to be on Stanta's sleigh team tonight?"

Dictionary blinked and tilted her head to one side.


"But of course. Vixen's run off with Shudolph."

"Oh." Dictionary rolled her eyes. "God, she'll be off with someone else the second she gets bored with him. She's my sister, you see. I've seen it all before. But OK, I'll come with you."

"Excellent," George replied, leading her back towards the village. Then he stopped, realising how far it was to walk back.

"Can I ride you?" he asked, winking at her.


The first snowflake fell, twirling, dancing, gliding through the crisp air, its white sheen highlighted by the purple and pink sky as the sun set. More would follow, but for now, this was the lone wanderer, skipping ahead of its family.

As it tumbled to earth, an assassin was being sent to his death.

The snowflake landed gently on the nose of a tyrant, cruel and cold as winter itself. She brushed the source of the chill off herself impatiently, and then strode forward towards the condemned man, her shoes making only the faintest of noise against the rocky ground. Her brown hair was scraped back into a tight bun, and upon her head was a black military hat. She wore formal black trousers, and a black trench coat, which was buttoned up to keep her warm. On her hands were black, leather gloves. Around her neck was a bright red scarf, the loose ends tucked into the neck opening of her coat, and a red band was upon her upper left arm, a symbol of her power and of her people.

Her red lips stretched into a smile as she looked down at the assassin. He had been bound, his arms wrenched painfully behind his back. His face, however, showed no expression; no emotion. He simply watched her calmly as leered at him like a predator that had cornered its prey. Of course, he was trapped; there was no way out, but it would be a cold day in Hell before he let her know that he was aware of this. He shivered, realising his comparison was redundant. ThiswasHell, this place -- this Domain -- and it was fuckingfreezing.

"Do you have anything to say; any final words?" she asked him sweetly, her hand now resting on the lever. His blank face finally cracked into a grim, determined smile.

"I will kill you in your sleep," he said, and then paused, before adding, "On Christmas."

"Of course you will," she replied, rolling her eyes, before pulling the lever viciously. Instantly, the catapult sprung into action, flinging the assassin high into the air, until he was little more than a speck in the distance.

"Jacob, should…should we be worried?" one of the officers, Qzil, asked. Jacob stepped away from the catapult and fixed her hat, which had slipped slightly. She snorted with laughter.

"No, we shouldn't. We heard that little line before, with…her."

Jacob waved her hand in the direction of the next to be disposed of.

"He promised, one year ago, to kill her, using those precise words. He failed me, and he paid the price. Now bring the prisoner up to be fired into the Sun. We can't have traitors in my Domain."

Warily, Qzil nodded, and then picked up the girl sat silently on the floor, bound with chains. Lance said nothing, but moved quietly towards the catapult without a struggle, the blue band on her left arm a badge of honour.


Around the same time the execution took place, a sleigh was flying overhead. Sat in the driver's seat was Stanta Claus. He was having a very bad day. It had been a week since Shudolph had eloped with that slut, Vixen, leaving Stanta is deep shit. He'd cuddled his cat for a bit for comfort, promptly ignored Mrs. Claus, because she wasn't a cat, and then gotten high, before stumbling off to find replacement for his two missing reindeer. Luckily, he quickly found a deer called 'Dictionary', to replace Vixen, but then he was left with the problem of finding a guiding light through the bad weather (which was always crap this time of year).

He knew he should have listened to his cat and cloned Shudolph, before putting the real Shudolph into a room where no one would ever find him (and, of course locking up the clone and cloning him again if he ever found the real Shudolph).

Mrs. Claus had actually suggested just buying headlights (and headlight fluid) for the sleigh instead of Shudolph, but he quickly dismissed it. After all, the thing would need D batteries, but they were only available in gas stations, and they were just so darn expensive!

In the end, in his stoned state, he'd gotten the only other reindeer that had a glowing nose, and unfortunately, had been too out of it to listen to everyone else telling him 'don't fucking do it.'

Stanta Claus sighed and scratched his head, before hearing a strange 'shoom' noise below. There was an eerie silence, before he noticed an object hurtling towards him with tremendous speed. He knew he wouldn't have time to swerve and avoid it.

"Oh, son of a bi--" he began, before the assassin hit him, knocking him straight out of his sleigh. As he fell, he noticed the snow was finally beginning to fall, flakes showering down.

Pretty, Stanta thought sadly. Next to him, he could hear the man who'd collided with him screaming with exhilaration.

"I did it! I actually did it! O em eff gee! I did it, you fuckers! I killed you! On Christma--"


The elves who had been present with Stanta on his sleigh looked down at towards the two small dots far, far down on the ground, one red, one black, red beginning to spread out from both of them onto the thin, fresh layer of snow.

Silver glanced back up at her companion, AD, who had since become bored and was now happily eating a bowl of pasta.

"Well,shit," she said.


The sleigh landed quickly, the elves hopping out as another person was being loaded onto a catapult. Silver ran over to one that looked like she was in charge. She vaguely recognised this place. It had once been the land of the free, The Domain, where Reds, Blues, Purples, and colourless alike could live in peace without fear of discrimination. But then…there was the Great War.

Stanta had quickly withdrawn his plans to build a holiday home there once it had started. Silver shivered, remembering the gunfire she had heard in the distance when she became a refugee of The Domain, leaving in the middle of the night with only a suitcase that contained a single game of Twister in it.

Those that remained…

That was almost behind her now, though. She'd received new work with Stanta, and had even met up again with AD, who had only left The Domain when the pasta storage had been hit by a nuclear warhead. Glancing around the charred remains of her old village, she sighed, and then realised the woman she was approaching was none other than Jacob herself.

"Excuse me," she said timidly, hoping Jacob wouldn't recognise her.

"Stand back," a voice said, stepping in front of Silver and blocking Jacob from view. It was Qzil, one of Jacob's officers; a loyal Red. "No one interferes with the execution of Blue traitors."

"But it's urgent!" Silver cried. "Stanta is dead!"

A terrible silence fell over all the people present, and Jacob strode away from the catapult, towards Silver.

"What did you say?" she asked, her eyes wide. "Dead? How could this happen?"

"You, uh, shot him...out of the sky."

Jacob staggered backwards, her hand flying to her mouth. How could they have...the assassin? They fired the assassin and...hit Stanta? She fell to her knees and bent over to the ground, distraught.

"What have I done?" she said softly. Then she scowled and viciously punched the floor. "God damn it, Lance! Your Blue stupidity is a corrupting influence! I bet you planned this, huh?"

Lance said nothing.

"Too guilty to speak, hmm? Well, maybe a quick trip to the Sun will teach you a lesson, youdick." Jacob stood up and started towards the catapult. Silver, however, ran forward and caught her arm.

"Jacob," she said, clutching tightly to her. Jacob looked down, and then blinked, finally recognising the elf.


Silver nodded.

"I need your help. We have to get someone to fly this sleigh, and elves can't do it all the way. We're too small. Please, Jacob; your colours so Red, will you fly our sleigh for cred?"

Jacob turned to Qzil, as if waiting for feedback. Before Qzil could open her mouth to reply, though, Jacob nodded at Silver.

"We'll do it. We'll help you save Christmas."

The elf smiled widely and scurried away to the sleigh to line up the deer and fix the sacks.

"We'll discuss your abandonment of The Domain later," Jacob said darkly under her breath when Silver was out of earshot. Qzil joined her at her side and folded her arms, her expression one of puzzlement.

"You know," the Red lieutenant said, after a moment of thought, "I'm sure she wasn't always an elf."

Jacob shrugged. "Take it up with author. There's probably some epic plot device at work here, and it'll be revealed at a later date to shock us all and make us laugh at the same time."

"Fourth wall, Jacob."

"Oh, right."

The two Reds picked Lance up off the catapult and dragged her towards the sleigh. There was no way in Hell the Blue was being left behind now, after the Reds had strived for so long to capture her. They tossed her roughly onboard, and then clambered in themselves, waiting for the elves to join them. Jacob took up the reins and flicked them, alerting the reindeers, who immediately set off into a gallop, taking off into the sky.

"How do you know how to drive?" Silver asked, confused. Jacob pointed up into the sky, where a distant clacking of keyboard keys could be heard. She nodded, and then pretended the conversation hadn't taken place.

"Wait!" AD cried suddenly, jumping up from his seat and scattering presents all over the sleigh floor. "I specifically asked not to be a main character! What the fuck, Le--?"

Silver had reached the end of her patience with him. Before he could finish his sentence, Silver jumped at him, planting her foot in his face and knocking him backwards out of the sleigh. He tumbled down to earth, becoming a speck as the party carried on upwards to the sky. His final words echoed out into the night.


It is unknown what happened to AD. Some say he fell through the White House roof, landing on the president and doing the terrorists' jobs for them. Their God was most pleased, and sent him to an afterlife of virgins and shit.

Other say that he did not die, but ended up in a nearby pasta factory, a batch of cold, cooked pasta softening his fall. He remained there for the rest of his days as a food taster.

Whatever happened to him, it is most likely he will not be in this fucking story again.

"Happy now, you little shit?" Silver shrieked into the empty air, before taking a deep breath and sitting down again. There was an awkward silence.

"...why is this seat sticky?" Qzil asked suddenly. Silver looked guilty at the Twister box on the floor, and then quickly nudged it under the chair with her feet.



Bludolph cantered across the night skyline, the valleys below, some now coated with snow, looking like a patchwork quilt. She glanced around, realising she was completely lost and had no idea where to go.

"You OK, Bludolph?" asked one of the deer pulling the sleigh. Only it wasn't a deer; it was a moose. The only moose in history, as a matter of fact, to not only learn how to fly, but also be eligible to pull Stanta's sleigh. "Lost again?"

"Uh, no, Annie," Bludolph lied, her blue nose glowing slightly brighter with embarrassment. Annie rolled her eyes, but said nothing more. The wind was picking up, snow falling at a much faster rate. It was almost like a storm was coming, despite the sky being nearly clear not long before.

If it keeps up, I'll never get unlost!Bludolph thought desperately, squinting through the fog.


A single gunshot fired into the air, the holder of the gun demanding silence.

"I will have my voice heard," she said, pointing the gun at Kyota. Suddenly, a lieutenant in black trench coat and a blue band around her left arm stepped out from the shadows, a large hammer in her hands.

"Opinions? We don't allow that sort of shit here," she growled, and slammed the rebel across the head with it. She fell to the ground, unconscious, and two other lieutenants picked up the girl and dragged away. She would be dumped outside the village, exiled, and left to fend for herself.

Lance spun to face the rest of the citizens of the village.

"That is what happens to traitors of The Domain; that is what happens to those who think their say is worth anything. Do I make myself clear? We kill your bans, one opinion at a time."

Giving one last lingering glare to the people, Lance stooped down and picked up the gun that had been left behind, and then strode away towards the faction houses. Kyota followed her, signalling for Qzil to join them.

"Call a meeting of lieutenants," she told Qzil. "We've got some serious business here."

"We always have serious business," Qzil replied, rolling her eyes, but then nodded and set off to the bell tower. The citizens watched the lieutenants stalk away into the night, waiting until they were out of earshot before speaking.

"Kill bans, one opinion at a time?" a girl with gold hair and eyes said, shaking her head in disbelief. "What the fuck are they on?"


"Quiet!" Jacob yelled, banging her fist on the table. The meeting room fell silent, the lieutenants at their respective tables watching her carefully. "Now, let's talk about this problem. Lance, you banned that civilian with little reason. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"She held a gun at Kyota," Lance replied, folding her arms and scowling. "I see that as a perfectly good reason."

"And," Kyota piped up from the Colourless Table, "she did it to Qzil, too. She also fired it into the air."

There were murmurs across the Red, Blue, Purple, and Colourless tables. Jacob sighed and put a hand to her head.

"You know the rules! Three strikes! The gun pointing only counts as one strike; the firing is a second one. She shouldn't have been ban hammered."

"She had agun," Lance snapped back. "A gun! You know, those things that kill people? And she pointed it at us!"

"Well it can't have been that bad if you managed to knock her teeth out with a hammer first," the commander from across the room said.

"Oh, fuck yo--"

"Enough." Jacob stood up from her seat at the Red Table. "I've already revoked her exile and had her teeth put back in. She shouldn't have been cast out, and unless she does something else to put her in the bad books, she shouldn't be ban hammered."

A massive explosion from outside shook the entire room. Jacob staggered, and then sighed as a girl laughing manically could be heard. "I could almost feel that coming, right as I finished the sentence."

Lance sat back in her seat, smiling smugly at the Red.

"Ky, go hammer her ass, 'kay?" Jacob ordered, gritting her teeth. Sniggers erupted around the room, causing Kyota to glare at her leader.

"Would be anhonour," she replied icily, before standing up and taking the hammer out of its holster. As she walked out of the room, the lieutenant that had spoken earlier kicked back their chair, angry.

"What, so you're stopping her saying her opinion?"

"Didn't you hear that explosion?" Qzil shot back.

"She blew up the bath house!" Lance added indignantly.

"Lance, whilst I appreciative your support, why must you always bring up the bath houses?"

"Yes, as your ruler, I find this constant talk of the bath houses unsettling," Jacob replied, rubbing the back of her head and pulling a face. "Quite frankly, our last trip there made us all rather uncomfortable."

Before Lance could answer, there was an even louder boom, rattling the tables. The door to the meeting room crashed open, and Kyota fell in, her face and hair blackened.

"You're, uh, not going to like this," she said, picking herself up and eyeing Jacob warily.


"Well, um, remember how we put our most treasured RvB vase in that one delicate building made of twigs?"


"I think...we're going to need a new delicate building made of twigs. And possibly a vase."

Jacob, shifted slightly, peering out of the door. Her mouth dropped open with horror at the sight of the flaming remains of the one delicate building made of twigs.

"They...they blew it up?"

Gasps filled the room. Jacob suddenly scowled deeply, and moved to the locker on the wall opposite her. She quickly took out her shotgun, loaded it, and then nodded to Lance.

"Lance, with me!" she cried. The outspoken commander snorted, causing everyone in the room to look at them.

"You, all of disgust me," they said, taking their hat off and tossing it onto the table. "You ban opinions, stifle free speech! Well, I won't stand for this anymore. I cast aside my position of Second in Command. You won't see me again."

"Are you high?" Lance asked bluntly, sneering at her. Flameh laughed bitterly.

"Of course I fucking am. Goodbye, and good luck to your dying government."

Without another word, she walked out into the snow, the fires of the ruined structures highlighting her form in the dark. She turned up her collar against the wind, and disappeared into the black.

"She'll be back," Kyota said uncertainly. Jacob didn't reply, but watched her go. She wasn't so sure.


A sudden jolt woke Jacob from her sleep. She was covered in snow and ice, and her hat had rolled underneath her seat. Qzil had taken the reins while she'd taken her rest. The elf had huddled up to Lance, shivering. Lance herself was still motionless, staring out into the distance with no expression.

Years ago, they had been friends; all of the citizens of The Domain had been friends. Then, that fateful night happened...the start of it all.

Some followed Flameh – others had remained, but protested against the banning of certain villagers. Jacob had seen enemies on all sides, but more so the Colourless bastards, the ones who didn't like RvB. They wouldn't care if the vase was destroyed, so clearly they helped do it. Kyota, Cass, and others were exiled for their part in the 'conspiracy.' Next it had been the Purples, when the Reds and Blues began to blame each other for the conflict. They refused to take sides, and so were clearly not ontheirside.

Finally, only the Reds and Blues remained, which was when the situation became downright dangerous. A campaign was launched by the Reds to systematically wipe out all Blues, thus eradicating any threat posed to them. Lance went into hiding, leaving the others to fight or run. The movement was swift and brutal, and before long, only the Blue leader had been left. The assassin had been hired by Jacob to find and take them out, but Lance somehow...survived.

The Sun will kill her, Jacob thought to herself, and then tapped Qzil on the shoulder to let her know she was awake. Qzil nodded and gave the reins to Jacob, before settling down in her own seat. The wind picked up again, rocking the sleigh from side to side violently, nearly throwing the occupants out.

"What the hell?" Jacob exclaimed. "Deer, do something!"

"We're trying!" Bludolph cried back, struggling against the weather. Suddenly hail cascaded down from the sky, pummelling the sleigh and filling it with ice. This was too much for the reindeer, and the sleigh slowly began to sink to the earth. It picked up speed as more hail rained down on them, and Silver lunged forward, realising the deer would most likely be killed if they stayed attached to the sleigh. They would crash, regardless, but if the deer died, they'd be stuck in the middle of a tundra. She pulled a knife out from her shoe, and in one swift motion, cut the bonds that held the reindeer in place.

Silver watched the floor speed towards her, before the sleigh flipped over and sacks of presents tumbled to the ground below.

The world went black.

The wind died down, leaving the snow to gently drift onto the wreckage of the sleigh. Certain everything was still, those lying in wait crawled out of their hiding spots and crept towards the people scattered on the ground.

"We have them," the commander whispered, crouching down and inspecting the Red leader's features.

"Hey, this one's still awake!"

The she stood up again and briskly walked over to the soldier that had called out to her.

"Where?" she asked. The minion pointed, and she turned and looked in the direction indicated. "Lance?"

"Hello, Kyota," Lance said quietly.


"Come on, mister blue guy; you gotta wake up," a voice said in Bludolph's ear. "Wake up."

Bludolph groaned deeply, and then wearily looked up, her body aching all over.

"It hurts. Just let me die," she said, feeling pathetic as she uttered it. Annie the moose looked at her, scandalised.

"You can't die, I'm bored!"she cried, stamping her hooves against the snowy ground. "Someone stole all the presents and took them back to that evil-looking, bong-shaped doom fortress in the distance. We have to go get them!"

"Leave a bowl of pasta out. I'm sure AD will turn up and do it for you," Bludolph muttered bitterly. She'd failed everyone by getting lost. Christmas was ruined. What was the point in saving it?

"We can't," Annie replied exasperatedly. "We're out of pasta because we overused that joke. And the humans were taken by the evil minions with the presents, so they can't make it for us. But don't you worry; they were taken a long time ago, so I'm sure they'll be back any minute. Jacob would have had a fool-proof plan to break out!"


Jacob awoke, her head throbbing. She groaned, rubbing her eyes, and then slowly sat up, the room spinning as she did. Where...where was she?

Jacob glanced around the room, noting the bars on the windows, as well as the thick metal door. Shakily, she forced herself to her feet, and then staggered to it, pulling at the handle. It was locked. Irritated, she kicked it, and then bit her lip as her foot began to hurt. She quickly hopped back to her dingy camp bed and dropped back on it. Then she realised Silver was sat in the corner.

"Why the hell are we here?" Jacob asked her. Silver shrugged, but then stood up as a guard walked past their cell."

"Hey asshole, for the last time, LET ME OUTTA THIS GOD DAMN JAIL CELL!"

"Yeah, let her out," Jacob said, wincing. "She's driving me nuts!"

"Oh, shut up, Red; nobody asked you."

"I should have never listened to Qzil's stupid, fucking plan," Jacob sighed, put a hand to her face.

Further down the hall, Jacob's Red lieutenant pace irritably about her cell. Ever since the war had started, Qzil had been in nothing but trouble. There'd even been an attempt on her life after the purging of the colours had begun. Many good Reds had fallen, until Second in Command had been given to her.

Before she could continue down memory lane, however, a large mantis with a swastika tattooed on the back of its head scuttled past her cell. She watched it go, and then rubbed her eyes, before sighing.

"I have no earthly idea what it is I just saw, or what this place is, or where in the Hell Jacob is!" she exclaimed. "My only choice is to blame Annie for coming up with such a flawed plan. Stupid, stupid Annie."


In the vast throne room, there sat a woman; the instigator of all the events leading to the situation that was now. She was cloaked from head to toe in robes made of the finest pot, woven together to create a beautiful, supple 'fabric.' A crown of cannabis stalks rested upon her head, and she carried a wooden staff, the top carved into a detailed leaf of her beloved plant.

The throne room itself was made entirely of ice, because pot wasn't resilient enough for carpets and wallpaper. It was a pain in the ass to walk across, so the evil queen – the 'Grinch', as some of her minions had named her since they'd started her master plan (and because of her green, hairy clothes) – had opted for ice skates to get around her palace.

The wooden doors at the end of the long room swung open, and Commander Kyota edged in precariously, her feet sliding around on the slippery floor. Behind her was a figure the queen recognised, and she stood up as they approached, her eyes narrowing.

"Lance," she said, her expression dark.

"Queen Flameh," Lance replied, walking on the ice with ease past Kyota, who was skidding around helplessly. "I suspected you would be responsible for this. I applaud you for successfully ripping The Domain apart from its roots and bringing its Dictator to her knees."

Queen Flameh snorted.

"Save the bullshit, Blue," she replied sharply. "You were just as bad as she was. In fact, I do believe you were the first to ban opinions. Is that correct?"

"Perhaps, but I have seen the error of my ways." Lance waved her hand in the direction of Kyota, who slipped at that precise moment and face planted the floor. "Your trusted Commander has vouched for me personally."

"Has she now?" Flameh skated over to her commander and glared down at her. "You know the risks. You also know the penalties. Take her to a cell, or you will feel my wrath!"

Kyota stood up again and nodded, before getting on her hands and knees and crawling back towards the door. Lance silently followed. However, the Blue ex-lieutenant stopped at the exit and turned to the queen.

"Jacob is in your cells as we speak," she said softly, knowing full well the queen would hear her.

Then she was gone.


"Nobody knows, the trouble I've seen," Jacob sang at the top of her voice, ignoring the faces Silver was pulling in the corner. "Nobody knows but Jesus."

"Will you shut up?" the elf snapped finally, standing up and waving her arms at the Red leader.

"You just can't face the fact that I've adjusted to life on the inside! I'm hard now!" Jacob replied gleefully, glancing about the small cell. Silver rolled her eyes.

"Please, give me a break."

"As the prison bitch, I would not expect you to understand," Jacob said, folding her arms and standing in a way she thought was intimidating. Down the corridor, a door banged, and footsteps began, making inconsistent squeaks against the ice floor. There was a crash as the walker hit the ground, and a tutting noise followed. Then strange skating sounds began, as if someone was skating towards the cell. Someone appeared at the cell door, before moving forward, the moonlight revealing their face.

"Flameh!" Jacob cried, standing up. "What is this? Why are we here?"

"You are here," Queen Flameh replied slowly, "because I wish you to be. Tonight is the night that The Domain will steal Christmas, ruining you forever. But of course, you are the one who single-handedly wiped out most of your own people, so no one will doubt you'd do something like this."

"Steal Christmas...?" Jacob was confused. "Flameh, what the Hell? I don't understand! We're saving Christmas, not stealing it! Let us out so we can deliver the presents!"

Queen Flameh laughed uncontrollably, leaning on her staff for support. Jacob didn't understand what was so funny, but then again, she was probably high. Eventually she regained her composure, and grinned at the Red leader.

"You just don't get it, do you?" she said, shaking her head with amusement. "I causedallof this! I've been planning it foryears."

"You didn't make Shudolph elope; you didn't make Stanta choose Bludolph; you didn't get Stanta hig—oh."

"Oh, indeed." Flameh nodded. "After Blake fled, he stumbled across me, and begged me for protection. I turned him into a deer with a Red nose; no one would suspect a Blue if they had a Red nose. Then I told him it had been Stanta's choice, and that he'd have to hide under the name of 'Shudolph.'

"Now, Blake's need for wives is famous, and after he left your village, he lost all his spouses. It was inevitable that he'd run away with Vixen at some point. All I had to do then was plant pot in Stanta's home, signed by his cat, and wait for him to recruit Bludolph.Obviouslyshe'd get lost and fly over you as you were continuing your executions, thus allowing Stanta to be killed, meaning you'd take over and get lost again, flying within my reach so I could control the weather with my weather controlling machine and take you down to the ground! You didn't stand much of a chance. Now you're finally getting what you deserve. I always knew this day would come."

Jacob blinked.

"You mean you knew that Shudolph would fall in love with Vixen and not anyone else, and then run away with her just before Christmas, and Stanta that would take the potandchoose Bludolph instead of using headlights, and that we'd hit him with a person being executed at the right moment, as well as agreeing to fly the sleigh and ending up flying here?" she said with disbelief. "Seriously? You knew that was coming?

"Absolutely. It's so obvious. Durrr. What a glorious day to be me."

"...I find that hard to accept."

"Just fucking run with it," the hippie hissed. "The author's a lazy bitch' is the real explanation."

"Oh, OK."

"And now," Flameh continued, smiling widely, "I shall keep all the presents stolen to myself. The Domain will be shunned, its reputation destroyed, and through the wreckage, a new leader shall step"

"It's a conspiracy!" Jacob yelled, pointing a finger at Flameh. The queen rolled her eyes.

"Could you put that in a memo, and entitle it "Shit I Already Know'?"

"We'll stop you, Flameh! You won't get away with this."

"Good luck," Flameh said, snorting. "I am done with you. Goodbye, Jacob."

And with that, she skated away.


"You know, Ky," Lance said smoothly as Kyota locked her away in her cell. "You aresounderappreciated. Don't you get tired of the constant abuse and lack of respect?"

"Well..." Kyota paused, looking annoyed. "Yeah, I do. No one cares for the hard work I do! I should have been Jacob's Commander, not Flameh, and look what happened! Flameh left. It's Jacob's fault for not trusting me in the first place."

"With my help," Lance continued, grinning slyly now, "You could be that Commander...or maybe...leader."

Kyota stared at her.


"Get up, get up, getup!" Annie bellowed. Bludolph's patience snapped, and she stood up, shaking her head.

"Fine! Fine! But what do you suggest? We justflythrough the walls of ice, hmm?"

"No need to be snarky," Annie replied haughtily. "And anyway, this isyourfault. You were the one that got us lost."

"Why is itmyfault?" Bludolph yelled suddenly, making the other reindeer jump. "Why was I the one guiding? You were all right behind me; I was just the fucking headlights, for God's sake! Any one of you could have taken charge and given directions, butnoooo,you're all too fucking lazy for that, aren't you?"

"Who the hell is that moron?" Comet piped up, stepping into the clearing and glaring at Bludolph. Bludolph flinched, and then narrowed her eyes. The sound of an electronic device powering up began, and her nose glowed fiercely, brighter than it had ever been before. The reindeer looked at it nervously, and then sighed.

"Oh, son of a--"

Bludolph's nose shot out a stream of blue light, like a laser, which hit the reindeer with an explosion, killing them instantly. The light died down, and Bludolph gritted her teeth.

"I am not a moron!" she cried, stamping her hoof. "My name is Bludolph the Completelywithoutasenseofdirection Reindeer, and you will fear my laser face!"

"Whoooo, hell yeah!" Annie yelled, kicking the dead reindeer on the floor. "Dude, you just got fucked up!"

"Wow, now that was awesome!" one deer exclaimed, dancing about excitedly.

"Yeah, awesome...!" another said, their voice trailing away in amazement.

"Bludolph, how did you do that?" Annie asked, surprised, but still grinning.

"I don't really know; I just got really mad, and it just kinda, you know, happened," Bludolph admitted, looking stunned with herself. She glanced sheepishly at the charred doe lying in the snow, and felt a twinge of guilt.

"Can you do it again; like to Dancer or something?"

Dancer edged behind Cupid and lowered his head.

"I guess. I'm not really sure," Bludolph answered, curiosity taking over from surprise. All this time she'd had kick ass laser abilities, and she'd never known about them! Perhaps anger wasn't the only trigger...

Glancing around, Bludolph looked up at a bird in the sky, before concentrating. Her nose charged up again, and there was a 'shoom' and a squawk, before a neatly toasted pigeon hit the snow with a 'fwump.' Bludolph smiled and turned to the other reindeer.

"I believe I've just found a way to rescue the idiots in the castle."


Jacob was just beginning to doze off, when an enormous crash jerked her awake again.

"What the Hell?" she shouted, stumbling out of her bed and nearly toppling to the floor. Blue laser shots tore down the corridor, killing guards that ran towards the source of lethal ray, and ripping through the ice, melting huge holes in it instantly. The prison fell silent, and Jacob waited with baited breath for the attacker to appear.

Suddenly, Bludolph and several other reindeer holding AK47s floated down in front of the Red leader's cell.

"Stand back," the reindeer commanded. Jacob and Silver did as they were told, and then watched with amazement as the blue nose proceeded to cut through the bars of the cell. They fell over with a clang, and the prisoners stood out. Bludolph then moved to Qzil's cell, and then Lance's, freeing them, too. Qzil quickly grabbed Lance and held tightly onto her.

"You're not going anywhere," the Red lieutenant growled.

"Time to go pay a visit to Queen Flameh," Bludolph said darkly. The entire group nodded in response, with the exception of Lance, who remained silent, and Jacob, who ran down the corridor in delight, waving her hands above her head.

"Freedom; it smells so sweet!" she yelled. "Let's go rob a liquor store on the way home!"


The door to Queen Flameh's throne room burst off its hinges and skidded along the floor, leaving deep furrows in the ice. The Queen stood, surprised, and then held her staff aloft as the group approached.

"I told you I'd stop you," Jacob gloated. Flameh snorted.

"Stay back, or I'll turn you to pot," she said threateningly. The Red leader laughed, folding her arms and tilting her head arrogantly.

"Attack her."

The armed reindeer moved in front of Bludolph, Annie, and the others, and aimed their guns. Before they could pull the triggers, though, Flameh waved her staff, and there was a blinding light. When everything returned to normal all that remained of the reindeer were bags of pot. The guns themselves had become bongs. Bludolph shivered while Jacob put a hand to her head and sighed.


"Fuck indeed," replied Flameh, laughing at Jacob's sign of defeat. Pointing her staff at her opponents, she released a fireball, which exploded at the floor in front of them, flinging them all away in different directions. A crack sounded as Jacob landed heavily, sliding across the ground before coming to a halt. She groaned, feeling one of her leg bones fracture. She wouldn't be running around again tonight.

"In a few moments, my guards shall return you to your cells. Please wait in silence, or you'll meet the same fate as the animals. Do I make myself clear?"

Jacob suddenly had an idea. This was the perfect moment to get rid of the Blue. She glanced at Qzil, who was lying next to Lance. Her Red lieutenant understood her leader's meaning immediately, and stood up, dragging Lance up with her. Lance rolled her eyes, but said nothing, before Qzil hurled her towards Flameh.

The Queen reacted instantly, firing the same spell at Lance as she had done the deer, but instead of the white light, the spell rebounded, hitting the ceiling and dislodging a huge piece of ice, which shattered not far from a giant lake Jacob had failed to notice earlier. Lance herself was flung backwards, bouncing and rolling away until she was level with Jacob.

"Wh-what?" Flameh stuttered in disbelief. Jacob nodded sympathetically.

"Believe me, I've tried everything. Poison, fire, guns, knives, steamrollers; hell, I even hired an assassin. I was going to get the same assassin to seek you out afterwards, but that didn't work for Lance. It may not work for you. Who the fuck knows? ...How do you beat something like a Lance? It's got to be im--"

A sudden thought struck Jacob.

"WAITIKNOW," she cried, struggling to her feet, taking hold of the now weary Lance. She threw the Blue with all her might at her enemy, but at the last second lost her balance because of her leg. Lance missed and skidded away, leaving Flameh unscathed, while Jacob collapsed to the floor.

The Queen began to laugh.

"You really thought you would win this?" she cackled, skating over to Jacob. "You really thought you could beat I, Queen Flameh, the rightful leader of The Domain? Well you were wrong, Red. You were wrong. And now, because of your actions, I have no choice but to kill you."

Flameh raised her staff, causing Jacob to cringe. Then a polite cough made the Queen pause and turn around. As she did, a waiting AD holding a disgruntled Lance took a deep breath.

"For Twister, Victory, and the TRUTH!" he bellowed, and then swung Lance around, hitting Flameh in the face. The Queen staggered, dropping her staff, which hit the ice with a metallic clatter, and then fell to her knees, barely aware of her surroundings. Her face contorted in pure agony, and Flameh clutched at her chest, her fingers ripping through her cannabis robes. Then there was a light pop, and she was gone.

"Well, that was a bit anti-climactic," Qzil said loudly looking bored and unimpressed. Silver got up, fixing her sexy elf outfit, and ran over to AD.

"I thought you weren't supposed to be back in the story!" the elf cried, hugging her friend tightly. "How the Hell did you even get here?"

"The best way to become boring is to tell everyone everything," AD replied solemnly.

"Asshole," Silver muttered.

Bludolph looked around at everyone, confused.

"So, uh, is that it? Are we done? Did we save Christmas?"

"Technically no," said Qzil, standing to her feet and walking carefully across the ice, as behind her a giant squid's tentacle shot out from the largely unnoticed lake, grabbed AD, and dragged him to the icy depths, never to be seen again unless he was needed for a plot point or some shit. "You see, we have no sleigh, it's almost morning, and all our reindeer are dead. I'd say we managed to fuck everyone's Christmas up pretty well."

"Fuck it, then." Jacob said, clutching at her leg. "We're keeping the damn presents to ourselves."

"All of them?"

"Sure. Who's going to stop us?"


A gunshot fired into the air, and Qzil gasped, before falling to the floor, dead. Kyota aimed the gun at Annie, shooting again, who also keeled over immediately. Then she blew the smoke away from the gun, and smiled.

"There's no one left, Jacob. Looks like I'm your number two, now."

"Uh," Jacob said, and then glanced at Lance. Lance put a hand to her head, realizing what was coming. "There's still the Bluetard. Tell you what; you help me fire the Bluetard into the Sun and you will be my Commander FOREVAR.


Lance sighed.


The Domain was rebuilt in Queen Flameh's bong shaped tower, the icy halls filled with festive decorations stolen from the sleigh. There were tables laden with food, toys and gifts for all, and a gigantic Christmas tree with red, orange, pink, and maroon baubles and tinsel all over it. There had even been a roaring fireplace, but that had melted through the floor and fallen onto some poor sod in the room below, killing him. After that, all the fires had been put out.

Jacob smiled to herself as she hobbled along the corridors with her casted leg. Today it was Christmas, and they would be the only people in the world celebrating it. Everyone would be totally jealous and want to join The Domain, which would boost membership again. Soon she'd be able to replace all of her dead (or about to die, in Lance's case) lieutenants and they would thrive once again.

The war was over.

"Jacob!" her new Commander, Kyota, called. "The honour is yours, my friend!"

Jacob made her way over to the newly constructed catapult, which hadn't taken that long to make. Feeling pleased, she saluted Lance, and then pulled the lever, flinging the Blue high into the sky. There was a cheer across the congregation. Then Jacob noticed Silver, and went over to talk to her.

"I've decided I'm not going to punish you for leaving," she told the elf, who smiled in relief. "But I need to the hell did you become an elf?"

"You know," Silver replied thoughtfully. "I don't really know. I think it would have just fit the Christmas theme if I was."

"Oh, OK."

"Oh, God, the Sun!" someone screamed, making Jacob jump. "Look at the Sun!"

Jacob squinted, and noticed that there was a black circle on the face of the Sun, growing large and darkening the sky with every passing second. Silver gasped in horror.

"You fired Lance into the Sun?" she cried, shaking Jacob. "How could you not know that firing Lance into the Sun has the same effect asdividing by zero?!"

Jacob blinked, and then glanced at the Sun again, just as the black circle engulfed it completely.

"OH, SHI--"

4/17/2012 #24

Lei-Lei, which one was the year with the mystery thread and the poems and the countdown?

4/19/2012 #25

The first one. Not sure if I have the poem written down anywhere though, sorry. :/

4/19/2012 #26

Wait, no, found it!


There was a man,

Emotionless; cruel.

He was a bastard,

And n00bs were his fuel.

All did fear him,

And did as he said,

Or else he'd get pissed,

An' to the Trolls they'd be fed.

For years he did work,

Being a git,

Until some dudes said

That he was in shit.

They said he was doomed,

And redemption, he asked.

Could he be saved?

And so he was tasked.

His time to repent

On his wanker-ish ways,

Was 'til first light

Of the following day.

So, here you are, Reader

To follow this 'stooge',


This is the story

Of Aydeenezer Scrooge.

4/19/2012 #27
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