Snowflakes
Gonzo grinned hugely as he hauled a great big box out of the closet, singing, “
DECK the halls with BOUGHS of holly!”
“
FA LA LA LA LA LA! LA LA, LA, LA!” Animal sang loudly, gladly taking the box from the Whatever. He found his chin pressed up against the side of the box, and he stared up at the ceiling.
Gonzo pulled out another, smaller box. “
TIS the season TO be jolly!”
“
FA LA LA LA LA! LA LA, LA, LA!”
The weirdo fairly bounced as he guided Animal back down the hallway. “
DON we now our gay apparel!”
“
FA LA LA! LA LA LA! LA! LA! LA!”
“
TROLL the ancient Yuletide carol.”
“
FA LA LA LA LA! LA LA LA—WHAA!” Animal found himself launched backwards under the weight of the heavy box, thumping and thudding as he tumbled down the stairs. He landed with a
CRASH and slowly slid out from under the box, perhaps a little flatter than usual. “Ow…” he said, dizzily sitting up.
Gonzo’s eyelids flew up as he stared at the dizzy drummer. “…Whoa!” He jumped onto the railing and slid down, bouncing off with a laugh and landing next to Animal. He set down his own box. “You okay, buddy? That was a
terrific fall!”
Animal assessed himself. “Fall down go boom!” he explained.
They looked up at the sound of an explosion across the room, and they both laughed.
“C’mon, let’s get these decorations outside!” Gonzo said excitedly as he leaped to his feet and held a hand out to help Animal up. “
SEE the blazing Yule before us!”
“
FA LA LA LA LA! LA LA, LA, LA!” They hefted their respective boxes and continued on their way out of the Muppet Boarding House.
“
STRIKE the harp and join the chorus!”
“
FA LA LA LA LA! LA LA, LA, LA!”
“FOLLOW me in MERRY measure!”
“FA LA LA! LA LA LA! LA! LA! LA!”
“While I tell of Yuletide treasure…”
“FA LA LA LA LA! LA LA LA, LA!”
High up on the ladder, Clifford looked down from his task of lining the windows and shutters with Christmas lights. “Aw,
man,” he moaned, seeing two more boxes emerge from the house. “Gonzo, how many more decorations does this house
need?”
“INFINITE!” Gonzo declared. “It’s the best time of the YEAR! We’ve gotta make the MOST of it!” He laughed as he opened the boxes.
Clifford slowly looked over the outside of the house. The roof and corners were already lined with lights, plus the wreaths on every door and window, the toy soldiers and candy canes lining the sidewalk, driveway, and flowerbeds, and of course the light-up trees and reindeer on one side of the house with what looked to be the start of an elaborate twelve-days-of-Christmas display on the other. “…
Infinite, alright,” he said. “Just how much
more is the
most?”
“Aw, c’mon, Clifford,” Rizzo said, taking the string of lights from Clifford’s hand and continuing to tack them up, safely perched inside the window. “As long as he doesn’t set the house on fire again d’is year, do ya really have the heart to stop him?”
“Nope,” Clifford said. “Just don’t show me this month’s electric bill.”
“Si, h’and get blackout curtains for de neighbors, hokay,” Pepe said, just above them on the roof, waiting with tie-wraps for something that was, presumably, in one of the boxes below. “Is going to be like
daylight when we turn all d’ese lights on.”
Clifford chuckled. “Rudolph won’t need his
nose to help Santa find
this house.”
“SANTA!” Animal came bolting up the ladder with a light-up plastic Santa Claus over his shoulder, knocking Clifford off the ladder as he climbed. “SANTA SANTA SANTA!”
Clifford muttered as he hung by his fingertips from the window ledge and tried to get his feet back on a rung once the drummer had passed. “Riz, gimme a hand, would ya?”
“SANTA!” Animal brought the plastic Santa across the roof to the chimney. “SANTA! SANTA!” He leaned closer to the Santa’s face. “Bring me pre-sents!” he said, grinning.
“Is a plastic Santa, Animals. He’s not real,” Pepe said as he marched across the roof with the tie-wraps.
“SANTA REAL!” Animal shouted at the king prawn.
“Si, si,” Pepe muttered as he began fastening the plastic Santa to the chimney. “But dis is a
plastic Santa, hokay. De
real Santa whould be much
bigger d’an dis one. Bigger d’an, ah…” He glanced around for a point of reference. “De chimney.”
Animal looked at the chimney. He climbed up the side and looked down into it. He looked at Pepe. “Santa bigger than chimney?”
Pepe looked at him. “Si! He’s a big fat man. Big belly.” He gestured with two of his hands. “De, ah… bowl full of jellies. Si. Now help me tie dis to de roof, Animals.”
Animal looked down the chimney and tilted his head to one side. Then he slid back down to the roof and helped fasten the plastic Santa to the chimney. “Santa real,” he said quietly.
“
Dis Santa is not real, Animals,” Pepe said, losing patience. “
Dis Santa Claus, is
plastic. He won’t go anywhere on Christmas Eves, hokay.”
Animal held the plastic Santa in place as Pepe fastened the upper portion to the chimney. He thought about Christmas Eve. “…Santa sleigh!” he said. “WHOOOLE world!”
Pepe sighed. “Si. Santa h’and his reindeers take his sleigh around de
whole entire worlds, h’and stop h’at
every single house, h’and he goes
down de chimney, which is usually smaller d’an he is, h’and he drops off
all de presents, h’and goes back
up de chimneys, at
every single house, all in one night.” He turned to walk back towards the ladder.
Animal stood still for a moment. He looked at the plastic Santa Claus tied to the roof. “…Shriiiiiimp?” He scampered after the king prawn.
“King prawn,” Pepe muttered. He stopped and turned around with a sigh. “
What, Animals?”
Animal quietly looked at the king prawn. “…Santa
real?” he asked.
“Dios mio, we just went over dis!” Pepe snapped, and he pointed at the plastic Santa. “He’s fake, hokay!
Unbelievable…” He climbed down the ladder.
Animal stood on the roof, alone with the plastic Santa Claus tied to the chimney. He quietly looked at the light-up incarnation of the jolly old fellow. He was a fat little man, with a cheerful smile and a twinkle in his eye—the eye that wasn’t winking. His bright red suit had fuzzy white lining and big gold buttons, with a big black belt around his jacket. He had a long white beard, and a red hat with a white fuzzy ball at the end.
“…Santa not real?” Animal asked. “Santa
fake?” He looked up at the sky. “…SANTA?”
*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*
Later that day, the Electric Mayhem gathered for a jam session in the bedroom that Dr. Teeth, Floyd, Zoot, and Animal shared. (Janice slept in the next room, on the other side of the wall next to Floyd’s bed. There was, however, a small hole in the wall that sometimes had a curtain over it for the sake of Janice’s roommates, Hilda and Camilla. This time of year, some mistletoe hung in that hole in the wall.)
Dr. Teeth, Floyd, and Janice shared the vocals. The good doctor was jamming on the ivories, the guitarists were grooving, and Zoot was wailing away on his saxophone. Animal was holding one drumstick, keeping a simple, steady beat on the snare drum.
“
Jolly Ol’ St. Nicholas, lean your ear this way!” Dr. Teeth sang.
“
Don’t you tell a single soul, what I’m goin’ to say!” Floyd sang.
Janice took the next line. “
Christmas Eve is coming soon, now you dear old man!”
Janice and Floyd harmonized. “
Whisper what you’ll bring for me—Tell me if you can!”
Animal sighed, dropped the drumstick, and stood up, sulking as he trudged out the door into the hallway.
“Whoa—“
“Hold it!”
The jam session came to a screeching halt as the musicians stared, slack-jawed, at the door through which their drummer had just ankled.
Ironically enough, Zoot was the first to speak.
“…Di’ that just happen?”
Floyd blinked. “…He left,” he said, staring at the door.
“Like, did someone walk by with Christmas cookies?” Janice asked. “Or like, any
other kind of food?”
“Negative—or, my eyes and nose deceive me,” Dr. Teeth said. “But he wasn’t runnin’ fast enough for the pursuit of food.”
“He wasn’t runnin’ at
all,” Floyd said. He blinked again, put his guitar down, and rushed to the door to poke his head into the hallway.
Animal had not gone far, on account of his slow steps as he dragged his feet down the hallway, his head and arms drooping low.
“…Animal!” Floyd looped an arm around the drummer’s shoulders. “Where y’goin’, Animal?”
Animal sighed.
“Let’s go back in,” Floyd said, guiding the drummer back to the door. “C’mon. We’ll play one of your
favorites!”
Bassist and drummer returned to the room, and the Electric Mayhem watched as Animal trudged back to his place behind his drums and sat with a heavy sigh.
“Looks like
someone needs some re-enthusin’ and re-infusin’ of Christmas cheer,” Dr. Teeth observed, his fingers quietly tickling the ivories again.
Floyd picked up his guitar and sat down next to the drumset—endangering his hearing, he knew, if Animal’s dreary mood vanished. Cradling his guitar in his arms, his began to strum the strings and softly started to sing. “
Come… they told me, pa-rum-pum-pum-pum…”
Janice nodded and sat next to Floyd—a little bit farther from the drumset—cradling her guitar as well as she took the next line. “
A new born King to see, pa-rum-pum-pum-pum…”
Animal picked his head up just enough to look at the two harmonizing guitarists.
“Our finest gifts we bring, pa-rum-pum-pum-pum…
To lay before the King, pa-rum-pum-pum-pum,
Rum-pum-pum-pum, rum-pum-pum-pum…
So… to honor Him, pa-rum-pum-pum-pum…
When we come…”
Zoot nodded and knelt down by Janice and Floyd, lifting his saxophone to his lips for some quiet accompaniment.
“Little Baby, pa-rum-pum-pum-pum…”
Dr. Teeth softly, harmoniously added his own vocals to those of his fellow bandmates. “
I am a poor boy too, pa-rum-pum-pum-pum…”
“I have no gift to bring, pa-rum-pum-pum-pum…
That’s fit to give our King, pa-rum-pum-pum-pum,
Rum-pum-pum-pum, Rum-pum-pum-pum…
Shall… I play for you? Pa-rum-pum-pum-pum…
On my drum…”
Animal hesitantly picked up a single drumstick and quietly tapped a steady beat on the cymbal. The other band members looked at him, watching him hopefully as they continued the song.
“
Mary nodded, pa-rum-pum-pum-pum,” Janice sang.
Floyd nodded, and the two of them harmonized again. “
The ox and lamb kept time, pa-rum-pum-pum-pum…”
“
I played my drum for you, pa-rum-pum-pum-pum,” Dr. Teeth sang, noting to himself the irony of himself playing a keyboard while singing that line, and then he and the guitarists sang together.
“I played my best for Him, pa-rum-pum,
Rum-pum-pum-pum, rum-pum-pum-pum…”
“Rum, bum, bum,” Animal mumbled quietly.
Floyd eagerly looked up at the drummer. “
Then… he smiled at me… pa-rum-pum-pum-pum,” he sang softly. “
Me and my drum…”
“Me ‘n’ my drum,” Animal mumbled under his breath.
The song quietly came to its end, and the musicians all watched Animal as his drumstick ceased to tap the cymbal.
Animal stared at his drums for a moment, and then slowly lifted his head to look at his bandmates with big, sad eyes.
They sighed heavily.
Animal dropped his drumstick and stood up to trudge towards the door.
“Animal—“ Floyd said quickly, and the drummer stopped, but did not turn around. “…Why don’t you just…
tell us what happened?”
Animal very sadly turned to look at him. “…Santa REAL?” he asked.
“Yeah, man! Of
course he is!”
“Absotively posilutely!”
“Fer
sure!”
“Yeah,” Zoot added. “…He owes me a whistle.”
The Electric Mayhem paused for a moment to look at Zoot and assess this comment.
Floyd turned to Animal. “What would make you think the jolly old man
ain’t real?” he asked.
Animal shrugged. “Shrimp…”
Floyd flew forward, instantly angry. “What’d he say?” he demanded.
Animal was looking at the floor. “…Santa fake…”
Floyd charged at the door.
Janice caught him by the arm, pulling him back into the room. “Oh, like honey, don’t
hurt him. It’s
Christmas time!” She kissed his cheek.
“…I ain’t gonna hurt him,” Floyd said. “Just gonna do some… recruitin’.” He gave a blink and a nod, and pulled his main squeeze a little closer. “Don’t leave Animal alone,” he whispered. He released her and stepped out into the hall.
*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*%*
“Absolutely not,” Kermit said, staring at the odd contraption before him.
“But
Kermit—“
“
No, Gonzo.”
“
Please? It’s the
holidays, Kermit. What’s
Christmas without
snow?” Gonzo pleaded.
Kermit stared at him. “Christmas in Los Angeles,” he replied. “Which is exactly where we are.”
“Oh, but Mr. Kermit, we are
also in
Hollywood,” Bunsen pointed out.
“Me moo,” Beaker added, nodding.
Kermit scrunched his face. “And what does
that have to do with it?”
“Well—everything’s fake,” Bunsen said flatly.
“Not the climate,” Kermit said. “Forget it, guys. We are
not covering the house and yard with
fake snow!”
“But
why not?” Gonzo asked.
“I
assure you, Mr. Kermit, the Muppet Labs White Christmas Maker is
perfectly safe—“
“Bunsen, you say that about
all of your inventions,” Kermit countered.
“I bet all the
other big stars will have a white Christmas,” Gonzo said.
“Oh, sheesh,” Kermit sighed.
“I betcha Uma will,” Gonzo went on. “I’m pretty sure Jack Black will. And Tom Hanks, and Jim Carrey…”
“Mm-hm.” Kermit nodded, looking remarkably unimpressed.
“And Britney—Well, if she’s home—“
“They’re
all gonna be using fake snow, huh?” Kermit asked with obvious skepticism.
“We can’t be left
out, Kermit! We’ve gotta keep up with the
times!” Gonzo insisted.
“Because everyone else is doing it,” Kermit said.
“Ex
actly!”
“And if everyone else jumped off a
bridge—Oh wait—“
“I would jump
first!” Gonzo said proudly.
“Sheesh,” Kermit sighed. “Never
mind…” He turned and walked away, shaking his head.
Bunsen and Beaker looked at each other, and then looked at Gonzo. “…Um…” Bunsen said, “…Was that… ‘Never mind’ to the bridge-jumping, or to vetoing the fake snow?”
Gonzo grinned and started to sing. “
Oh, the weather outside is frightful…”
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Wonderful song choices--all of 'em! I absolutely canNOT wait to read more! 
...So hop to it!