They all learned the true meaning of the holidays. There, I finished the whole story for you. Is this how you want to spend your holiday? Listening to an old hat-rat story? Come on, you know how it goes. Four ghosts come and teach the true meaning of Hearth's Warming, she's a grump about it, somehow a nutcrackers gets mixed in, they get the gifts that the other needed but only by giving up what the other got them the gift for in the first place-- You know all these stories. I mean, really? You want me to sit here and spin the yarn for you again?
Well... I suppose I can tell you a different sort of story... A story or two like the ones you're used to, but with some twists and turns... And some nudity. What? No nudity? Fine... We'll put the nudity on ice for the time being. But for now, we'll crack open our main story for these festive events. This is the story I like to call "Carol of the Scratch". And you should enjoy it; it's based on the true story of how Vinyl Scratch learned the true meaning of the holidays. But, I'll work in a few smaller stories between the plot just to keep things lively... And musical numbers! What? No on the musical numbers too? Humbug...
Who am I? Why, I'm the narrator of course. The one who turns the pages, who sets the stage, who dawns the lights at those moments most somber... You want to know WHO I am? Well... Why not have a little fun with that. Much like a play, I'll intervene between the breaks to sum up what has happened and where we're headed. I wouldn't want you to get lost. And, better for you; we'll see if you can piece together who I am by the end of my show. Anyway, on with it. The show I mean.
This is the tale of Vinyl Scratch, a true lover of the holidays. But, I ask you before the story truly begins: Is it the fire that makes the fireplace, or the wood?
When the first wind blows across the snow powdered streets, the air dances with the beautiful art of unique flakes of white carried by the gentle gust. It's that dance of snow flakes that stays in the eyes of every man, woman, and child throughout this -- the most warming time of the year. Tinsel hangs from street lamp to street lamp, unlit lights wait anxiously as they hug the door frames and windowsills they have been strung to with such care, mounds of pillowed snow collects at the street corners and roadsides from the passing plows. It was in the air and atmosphere: The holidays were about.
The small town of Ponyville was more abuzz than usual with children free from the school bell for a good few days; along with their parents, given a break from the grindstone of the daily work force. Holiday cheer was around every corner; and so was a bell ringer and a caroler or two to hammer in that holiday cheer all the more. Children flooded the streets and parks of the city, laughing and playing as much as they could in this most joyous and free time of the year. But, not all the kids in town were throwing snowballs or dodging street-sweepers. A small group of kids, thick in coats and mittens sat together in the snow, looking to a woman sitting on a bench.
The woman was a fair skinned, mature lady wearing a cream trench coat and tall black boots. Her hair -though powdered with white snow falling down on it- was black and well kept, a beautiful luster to it that brought out her poised purple eyes. She kept her hands folded neatly on her lap as she regarded the small cluster of children looking up at her with amusement. "Come on now, Miss Octavia," the littlest of them, Pipsqueak, spoke up, "Keep on with the story."
The rest of the children -Scootaloo, Apple Bloom, Sweetie Belle, Rumble, and Featherweight- mixed in their own urges for Octavia to keep on going. Octavia chuckled a little, letting her breath form a swirling puff before her cold, reddened nose before she rubbed her palms together. "Very well, very well. Now where did I leave the story...?" Octavia raised a brow at the collection of children, a smile of amusement coming to her as she tested their senses of attention.
"You were sayin' the princess ran off from the castle," Apple Bloom chimed in.
"Right you are. I see you were paying attention," the compliment from Octavia made Apple Bloom bloom with pride at her rosy cheeks, "So, the fair princess ran off from her castle, distraught over this momentous calamity she had endured. Rattled to the very core, she darted off into the night, leaving all her material world behind," Octavia carried on, granted losing the children on most of her words but still holding their interest all the same.
"The princess soon became lost in the turmoil of her own despair, sinking into a pit of negativity taken form. She fought, she struggled, and she even pleaded for her worries to stop; for it all to just go away... Care to guess what happens next?" The children murmured amongst themselves, trying to come to a collected conclusion before responding to Octavia.
Before a choice could be decided on by the kids, a girl dressed in a baggy hoodie and a red scarf poking out from the head-hole strode up behind Octavia's bench and leaned over it. Octavia smiled warmly and closed her eyes as she felt the other woman drape her arms over he shoulders and slowly wrap them around Octavia's upper body. "Hey," the other woman smirked as she let her chin rest casually on the top of Octavia's snow dusted hair, "I think I know this story... Yeah..." Octavia lightly stroked her cold fingers against the other woman's wrists as they wrapped around her, "The princess gets saved by a British pumpkin and runs home to plow her knight, right?"
The kids all snickered as they saw Octavia's face turn from content to deep embarrassment from the other woman's answer. "You seem to be skipping a few parts, Vinyl; as per usual..." Octavia's eyebrow twitched as she lowly muttered her words behind clenched teeth, though she still presented a soft and kind look to the children as best she could.
"Details, details..." Vinyl swung around the snow covered park bench and flopped down right in front of the kids. "And they lived happily ever after I hear," Vinyl leaned in to the kids' circle, pretending to whisper those words to them as if it were some big secret.
"Ya' mean it?" Apple Bloom sincerely whispered back as she leaned in with all of the other kids, each of them wanting to know if the story was true.
Behind Vinyl, still sitting on the bench powdered in snow, Octavia lifted one of her cold, red hands; noting the small silver band wrapped around her finger. "The papers have yet to be signed... But the princess and the knights are very close to that happily ever after indeed," a dreamy smile crossed Octavia's lips, all cold leaving her body as she focused on the little ring on her finger.
Vinyl peeked over her shoulder, her eyes that were usually covered by her signature shades were left free to show her dark pink eyes twinged with joy as she looked at her girlfriend. Quickly, she turned back to the kids and waved a dismissing hand at them. "Yah! Yah! Get along, kiddies. Story time's over. Octi and I got a lot to do today," the kids groaned sadly, though those groans were soon replaced by yelps of laughter as Vinyl playfully swung at them and tried to 'eat' them.
As the children scurried away towards the rest of the kids playing, they all looked back to Octavia and Vinyl (who was just now standing up out of the snow to brush herself off) and waved a few goodbyes.
"Merry Christmas!"
"Happy Hearth's Warming!"
"Happy Holidays!"
Little by little the kids all filed away and joined with all of the other children out for the holiday break playing in the snow. Finally alone, Vinyl spun on her heels and looked at Octavia still sitting on the bench. "...So I'm a knight?" Vinyl smirked at Octavia's 'story book' retelling.
"A knight in sour green armor..." Octavia sighed to herself with a roll of her eyes as she stood up. With a gentle hand to Vinyl's flushed, cold cheek, Octavia moved close to her lover and planted a single kiss against Vinyl's warm lips. "...But, my knight all the same. Besides, children these days prefer ambiguity in gender relations. Is the knight a boy? Is it a girl? The point is to make it ambiguous so they don't as if it has to be one way or the other."
"Always a real crowd pleaser, aren't'cha?" Vinyl quickly hooked an arm around Octavia's hip as the two of them started walking out of the park.
Ponyville was alive with the distant sounds of carols echoing through the streets along with the chimes of bells as charities tried to appeal to people's good nature this time of year. Kids and adults alike walked this way and that past Vinyl and Octavia down the snow paved sidewalk. The sun was still high in the sky, making for all the snow that decorated every inch of town to glitter like mounds of sugar. As Vinyl squinted from under her hood, she was silently regretting she didn't wear her shades for once. "Remember, Vinyl. We're having Hearth's Warming breakfast at Lyra's tomorrow..." Octavia casually reminded her blue haired cohort as they continued down the street.
At first Vinyl only grumbled and kicked loosely at a mound of snow, letting the powder splash into the air and dust the road over all the more. "Lyra's?" She whined.
"Don't be so theatrical about it, Vinyl. She's my best friend after all. It wouldn't be the holidays without her," Octavia smiled to herself, thoughts of her eccentric aquamarine haired friend.
"Your best friend... But, whatever..." Vinyl let it go for now. In the end, Lyra wasn't that bad... In small doses. "We're still opening presents at Red's place, right?"
"Oh, of course. I can't imagine Christmas without her and the multitude of cats she keeps," Octavia gave a rare giggle as she started to rest her head against Vinyl's shoulder.
The day was young, but the hours were short. Both Christmas, Hearth's Warming, and many other holidays were at the feet of everyone in town. The decorations were hung and the presents were wrapped, but there was still so much to do. Cook the turkey, stuff the stockings, light the candles, decide on who was going where; it was all for the sake of the rush that came with the holidays. A rush that both Vinyl and Octavia were very familiar with. In fact, they loved it. The two adored the holidays; especially Octavia, a woman who still believed in Santa. As for Vinyl, even as she walked down the streets of Ponyville to get to her apartment, she couldn't help but marvel at all of the Christmas and Hearth's Warming decorations.
Today was the Eve of Christmas and the Dawn of Hearth's Warming, two days from Kwanzaa, and the last day of Hanukkah. There was so much to do, and so little time left to do it.
Christmas: A holiday to celebrate the birth of a savior. A day to give gifts and share in faith that will last you for years to come.
Hearth's Warming: A holiday commemorating the day the nation of Equestria was founded. Now, the day is treated as a day of reflection and brotherhood.
Kwanzaa: What the hell is Kwanzaa? A spiritual time; a time of family and self enlightenment through the mind and soul.
Hanukkah: Seven days of remembrance and faith. Seven days of prayer and faith; of hope and trust in a greater power.
Festivus: Eh. It's a Festivus for the rest of us.
You ever think about reading the end of a story first? I have. It'd probably save a lot of time. I mean, if you know how it ends, you can be sure you actually like it. Makes sense to me, I don't know about you. Why read through hundreds of pages of perfunctory dialogue and needless descriptions when you could just know if the hero slew the dragon or not? Then again, the obvious specter to that: if you know how it ends, why bother caring?
Some would call that a catch twenty-two. I have no idea if it is or is not a catch twenty-two, it just sort of feels like that sort of situation where you would call out a catch twenty-two. Or maybe I just want you to keep reading catch twenty-two so it sticks in your mind. Who's to say? Who's to say any of these matters beyond confusing you and laying out tricks? I would be the one to say, in that case. And I say "it'll all make sense in the end". But who's to say that me saying that even matters.
What does matter is that we're at the next chapter of our little story. Where our heroine of the evening and resident humbug finds herself cozying up into bed, anticipating every bit of holiday cheer that awaits her in the morning. What's that...? You don't think she's a humbug....? You think I'm telling the wrong story....? Well why don't you just read the book next time instead of criticizing every little thing I tell you?
But you raise a very good point, and I want you to hold that question with you. Where does warmth come from? The hearth, or the home?
The city at night was something to behold. Most so when it was dressed in the embrace of winter. Be it the snow dusted over roof and street alike in subtle dunes that shifted with each gust, or the myriad colors of draping lights fixed from one street post to the next. As the last remaining ponies finished their bustling through the streets, the serene quiet gradually consumed the night; leaving only the quiet glow of holiday fixtures mingling against the soft mounds of snow. A tranquil vista to look out over from the warmth of one's home before drifting to slumber.
It was that vista that Vinyl looked out over as she nestled herself into her bed. While her heart yearned to share a bed with her charming lover down the hall, she was reminded that they both needed to be fresh for the day ahead. And when they were together, Vinyl knew all too well they weren't restful. A shame, but it just meant the after holiday fun would be that much more vigorous.
She shook the lingering thoughts off and took a wandering glance to her glasses resting on her nightstand. The last thing she needed was to get her own engine started so late in the evening. Her legs squirmed against the ruffled covers of her mattress—cluttered clump of a mess it was—as she considered the snow drifting outside the window. Little flakes danced from top to bottom, drifting out of sight and out of mind one after the other. A rhythmic and steady display that set her mind at ease with each passing crystal of winter.
Tomorrow they had breakfast planned at Lyra's. Dear sweet Lyra who Vinyl would have to choke the hours away with. But for Octavia, anything was worth it. At least for a bit. So long as the unbearable claptrap didn't actually try to talk to her. A comfortable distance was the key to a healthy holiday. Probably.
After that, it was off to see the most darling dear that was Redheart to share in the joy of opening gifts. The idea of blowing two of the women she loved more than anything away with the sheer brilliance of the gifts she got them nearly set Vinyl to kick out of her bed. But, the point of listing details was to help her relax and calm. Ease her to sleep; not the opposite.
Topping that all off, likely a flight of parties across town. Quick hellos, cheery bows, tastings of every hors d'oeuvre at each hearth they found themselves at; all to at least say they made a showing. The mayor always had a general assembly for anyone to invite themselves, and the local library was not much different. While those weren't exactly the parties Vinyl delved into, Octavia wouldn't miss them for the world. Why? Who was to say. Maybe she just liked showing the sexy little minx she had on her arm wherever she could. Or maybe that was the other way around.
The rambling thoughts did their trick and gradually eyes grew labored. With each passing flake, Vinyl felt herself pulled subtly more-and-more into the gentle embrace of sleep. Tomorrow would be another exciting carousel of holiday cheer. From Christmas, to Hearth's Warming, and all else between. So much to do, and so much to see; and it was all waiting after one last sleep...
At the sound of first tone,
A visitor will come and the pact shall be known...
Soon to follow at the second tic,
That which-was shall unravel all too quick...
All too soon will follow a resounding tock,
With it the now in a clattering knock...
Before the end with a final wake,
What is to be will come for its final take...
Three specters and host shall all come to serve,
For sanctity of the spirit, and holiday preserve...
Sleep came easy to Vinyl, but something about it felt off. Her eyes were firmly shut, her minds stilled in the quiet of the night, and her heart was soothed with the sense that you only got when you were warmly nuzzling into a warm pillow in the winter. Everything within her said 'you're asleep', but she felt as wide awake as she would at noon. Her eyes opened to welcome the vision of the frosted window she had watched before drifting off, but to her surprise nothing close to that welcomed her.
The room around her wasn't wholly unfamiliar, but it definitely wasn't her bedroom. Not nearly enough half-crushed cups of raman lingering around or at all, and the musk cultivated from clothes left to heap on the floor for a few weeks wasn't assaulting her. In fact, the room was something out of Octavia's idea of an ideal living room. Wall to wall annals of books, a windowed wall that looked out over the entire slumbering city below, and a crackling fire tucked within a bricked fireplace. Said fireplace serving as the only light in this space she found herself in.
Vinyl furrowed her brow as she contemplated the situation. The space was weird, and all the weirder with her bed seemingly placed smack-dab in the middle of it. She moved to pinch herself to judge if this was maybe just a very vivid dream, but the crackle of the fire splintering one of the logs caught her and she looked closer at the fire pit; as if something called her to do so.
"Vinyl Scratch..." Vinyl remained lounged in her bed as a voice called out to her. Beside the crackling din of the fireplace, a lithe form draped herself against its frame. At once, Vinyl recalled where she was, and who it was that beckoned to her. Though the revelation did not stir her any more from her bed, and she simply allowed the woman to speak. "On this night—out of all the men and women who could have found their way here—you find yourself in a most auspicious predicament."
"Huh..." the musician spoke up, shifting herself to sit along the edge of her bed, "Usually when I have wet dreams, they aren't this vivid."
The fires cracked sharp and splintered at the wood, releasing a sound that almost mimicked a series of cackling laughs as Twilight Sparkle near stumbled completely from her 'sultry' stature. The librarian quickly poised herself again and forced out a sharp cough, doing her best to maintain some manner of mystique. "This is no mere dream, Vinyl Scratch—"
"Yeah, not things start getting real hot and heavy," Vinyl interjected amidst her gradual efforts to strip her undergarments—an easy task given she evidently slept with only those on.
"Will you stop?" Twilight clicked sharply, though the squeak that accompanied it had dwindled away any remaining mystique she had. "I am trying to do this whole thing, and it would go a lot smoother if you just participated, okay?"
This was one of the more difficult sexy dreams Vinyl had experienced. But still not the weirdest. Vinyl simply offered a limp shrug and flopped herself back upon her bed with a creaking clatter, posing herself to listen well to Dream-Twilight's words if it meant they could hurry to the show.
For a moment Twilight brushed herself off and seemed to contemplate if she should resume her posture and pontificating. A sigh dryly escaped her lips as she could clearly feel the muse had left her. No matter, that isn't the whole point anyway. "Look, I'll just get right to the point," she caught Vinyl's eyes light up at those words and she quickly snapped a hard finger at her, "Not that point! This is not a dream, Vinyl. This is real... Well, no, it's not actually real, it is a dream actually. But a real dream," her audience only blinked in response, "I mean... I'm using magic to project myself into your dreams—"
"Twilight, you don't need to do all that if you wanna bone-down. Remember, Octi and I gave you that pass and—"
"We aren't talking about that right now!" Twilight hurriedly cut her guest off, and even though Vinyl couldn't see her face exactly with the light so dim, she could sense the librarian was getting hot around the cheeks, "I am entering your dreams to tell you something of the utmost importance. That being that tonight, before you wake, you will be visited by three ghosts—"
"Like Kermit?"
"Okay, first, stop interrupting me. Second, Kermit was Bob Cratchit in that adaptation, not any of the—we're getting off topic." Twilight sighed to herself, cursing that it fell to this girl over anyone else, "Otherwise, you get the idea, I guess... Tonight three spirits will visit you and impart the true meaning of the holidays to you."
"Why?" Vinyl shifted on her bed entirely to lounge her head off one side, watching Twilight upside down as the conversation drew on far more than she was interested in.
"'Why'? Because..." Twilight considered herself, how to spin this to the nonchalant musician she found herself stuck with, ultimately relenting to the truth, "Because every holiday season, I make it a resolution-kinda to run a Christmas Carol on someone," Twilight's face went beet red at the confession, though the dim light of the library did well to hide that fact.
The candor seemed to twitch something free from Vinyl. Interest? Respect at the honesty? Humor? Whatever it was, it brought the girl to spin upright and rest her chin into the cradle of her palms. "Twilight, you sly little something-or-other! That's some real dumb fun. I didn't know you had it in you," she chirped an approving laugh with the widest of smirks on her face.
"Yeah, well... Y'know... It's just... Something I found myself doing to help bring some cheer, I guess," Twilight couldn't tell if the fluttering in her chest was from embarrassment at having admitted to it, or the odd joy that came from being complimented for it, "I-I just pick someone through a spell, and I set it into motion with some help... And this year, it landed on you."
"Can't imagine why. I love the holidays! You know my Octi and I; we're Christmas fiends."
"Well then it'll be a really easy night for you, won't it?" Something in Twilight's tone piqued a brow from Vinyl. She couldn't quite put a label on it, but it seemed confident in a way that set off a little ringing in the back of her head.
"Alright-alright... Buuuut... What if I say 'no'?" Did Scrooge ever try that? Kermit didn't. But then Kermit was not the lead, was he?
"I... Haven't ever had anyone refuse." Point one Vinyl Scratch, zero Kermit the Frog. "If you're really a 'Christmas fiend', wouldn't it be shameful to avoid playing the lead in a Christmas Carol-esque adventure?" Played by my own play, well played. "But I... I suppose we can make a deal, or something?" Jackpot to me, you pig-loving toad!
Vinyl didn't really need to think too long or hard on the offer, she entered this dream already with a clear idea she was denied by this turn of events anyway. "Okay! I'll do it, but if I don't learn the true meaning of Christmas-or-whatever, then we're gonna make good on this whole wet dream you keep blocking me on. You, me, and Octi... Unless she's cool with watching," Vinyl purred her response with a taunting trill.
Twilight for her part remained still just out of sight next to the crackling and cackling flames of the fireplace. The idea was salacious, crude, and flew in the warm fuzzy face of Christmas that she did this all in service of... And there was no denying that it did make her heart flutter and skip because of it. "Ummm... Well... I-I guess if that's the only way to get you to go along with this..." Twilight was not convincing herself, the groaning fire, or Vinyl with the please tone she had in 'relenting', "But! Be warned! You shall not be the same woman you were once this trial has concluded..."
"Yeah, you're not gonna be the same woman when I'm concluded with you either."
With nothing more to say and perhaps simply desperately wishing for this intro to conclude, Vinyl's eyes were abruptly clasped shut with a flick of the librarian's wrist. Vinyl instantly flopped into herself, folding her arms into a makeshift cradle for her now restful visage; all sense of tire flooding into her without warning. Just as quickly as slumber reclaimed the blue-haired maiden, so too did she and her bed fade from the sequester of Twilight's library.
"...Really wish it was Fluttershy this year. Who has that level of a libido at one in the morning?"
The curtain draws, and the players are called to act.
The first to come calling is the one who's words are gentle and kind.
Into the warm, welcoming embrace of the yesteryear is where the story goes.
As the Ghost of Christmas Past will surely know...
I didn't say they were all going to rhyme. Lay off.
What a deeply compelling, adrenaline pumping story. I don't know about you, but they had me in the first half. And the special effects? Don't even get me started. The production budget must've been through the roof. I cannot wait until next year to do it all again.
...You're not buying it, are you? Yeah, I should've known better. This is a mental medium anyway, you can't even see the special effects unless I tell you about them. How am I doing on that front, by the way? Are you feeling charmed and enchanted? Am I earning a paycheck this week? I'm just yanking your chain. I'm doing this gratis. So be grateful! I could be a dozen other things like wrapping presents or putting out cookies for Kringle, but I'm here telling you a story.
Some would say I'm a saint. But the church hasn't responded to any of my requests to have that notarized yet. I'm sure it's on the top of their to-do list.
Do you know what's on the top of my to-do list? Telling you a short story so I can go get some hot chocolate before the next act. So sit back, relax, and enjoy a little story I like to call "Gift of the Bloomer"...
...Not those bloomers, you degenerates! Some people... Make it up to me by answering this: What makes the tree so bright? That which adorns it, or which it overlooks?
The streets were asleep through all and every land. In the 'Ville named for equine, even the city up-high so grand.
But scurrying there was in the night so quiet. As children snuck free of their beds in quests most defiant.
Their parents tucked them in but hours before, with promises of gifts for every patient good boy and girl. Yet so few bade the wishes, not buying that churl.
"Last year I got boots," whispered one little girl as she crept down the stairs, "Gotta check these gifts to make sure they ain’t suits,” she kept her tone low as she moved to find the holiday wares.
Beneath the tree, wreathed in a warm Christmas glow, she spotted her prize, and inched in ever so quiet and slow.
Under all the evergreen thistle and tinsel, Applebloom found the gifts in their respective stack. There was one for Mac, for Granny, and one tucked away for dear sister Jack.
The last one to be found, nestled where there was just enough room, were the collection of gifts all labeled “Bloom”.
“At last,” she proclaimed in nary a whisper, “At last I found ‘em, not so clever sister.”
She crawled low to shimmy beneath the tree with what little quiet she could muster. Only cursing a little when she bumped the ornaments she placed near the bottom in a cluster.
The orbs they rattled, rang, and did crinkle, as the star above shook and hung on with a little twinkle.
Before long the girl clasped her prize and drew it out free, knocking her little rump against the tree as she started her flee.
“Now lets see what we all got here,” she mused as she peeled away the wrapping, “I can be a little naughty, I’ve been good all year.”
The careful care of the wrap tore free and Applebloom didn’t care for the mess. Though her heart certainly dropped when she found a dress.
It was no mere dress, the girl knew that with the utmost clarity. This was the dress she was eying at the store owned by Rarity!
All the buttons were replaced with adorable red apples glittering like a ruby. And immediately Applebloom felt like a fool, a right true booby.
"Tarnation," she cursed at the volume of a mouse, "you should'a known better, ya dumb little louse!"
But the papers were torn, her crime was ev'dent! When AJ awoke, the belt was most def'nite!
She had to think quick, apply all that she knew. If Sweetie were here, what would she do?
With a 'hm' and a 'huh' she paced over her gift. Then it came to her, a most devious grift!
Quiet remained key amidst her deception, getting caught now would be a nasty reception.
She tore at every gift's wrapping. Hers, Macs, not even Granny's were to be lacking.
Colors this way and that were strewn to and fro, the mess could not matter. Where they would fall, she'd worry later when she set to clean the scatter.
The child did her best to not spoil herself upon all the wonderful gifts she had seen. Though she was curious what that long one for AJ was, and why it was green.
The thought could not linger, and she could not worry for it now. She'd remedy her mistake, this much she would vow.
With the myriad of colored strips of presents once wrapped, she fashioned a quilt of the paper. It was crude and patchy, and all honestly would not hide her caper.
Yet still she worked, bundling all the gifts into a single mass. She wrapped the quilt of paper around it, it would have to do, alas.
There where once was the neat collections of gifts most tenderly presented, was now a lumpy mass sitting next to the tree in a mess most blended.
It was crude and ill constructed, but Bloom was well on her way to concocting her deflection. "The way gifts look? That's just a perception."
"It ain't about the gifts that gather under the tree, or the glitter of the dressing. It's about the collection of the ones you love, that's the real blessing."
Repeating her line until it set within her mind, she scurried back to her room. When tomorrow came, she only hoped for a lack of doom.
What was the lesson? What did we learn? If you find yourself curious to check your gifts early, mayhaps you should just forget it and turn.
For though your family shall forgive you for your mistakes and give you a pass, if you mess up this royal, you'll get five across the ass.
This coco is pretty good. You should get some yourself...
...I just spent the whole interlude rhyming, I'm not doing it right now. Go get something to drink or eat before the show starts. You're being rude.
