> How Celestia, Luna, the Grinch, and Ebenezer Scrooge Stole Hearth's Warming > by Mannulus > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > How Celestia, Luna, the Grinch, and Ebenezer Scrooge Stole Hearth's Warming > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- In Canterlot City up on the high mountain, In a castle with gardens and glorious fountains, There lived and still live, if tales told are true, A princess of ponies. No, make that two! They were on the whole good, though not always so. For the younger was evil, though quite long ago. But in spite of them being quite fair in their way, Both held a grudge for one certain day. The day was Hearth's Warming, that glorious season, But don't think them wicked; they had a good reason. You see these princesses of moon and bright sun Got one day a year off of work to have fun, But that day was the day of the Warming of Hearth, And the pageants and feasting made them want to barf. It was not always so. I assure you; they're kind! But after so long they were out of their minds With the same celebration held so many years. Having seen it so often, it bored them to tears. So, one year as the ponies hung up their bright tinsel, The older, Celestia, sat gnawing a pencil. She had been making notes of what must be done The next morning after she'd raised up the sun. “I tell you,” she said to sister nearby, “If I can't have some peace, I'm going to cry, But the parades and the feasts I must surely attend, Lest some well-meaning soul of good heart I offend.” “Yes, it is true,” said Luna, the younger. “It's like trying to eat when well past one's hunger. I know they mean well, but we've seen it before! It's trite and annoying; a terrible bore!” “I wish,” said the elder, “for this year alone, We could stop it from coming.” Then, she gave a groan. “Well,” said the younger, “I might have a plan, But we'll need a monster and maybe a man.” “Monster and man?” her sister did ask. “Those we can get; it's not such a task.” Now Luna did grin, and it spread cross her face. “The first one stole Christmas and left scarce a trace.” “What's Christmas, dear Luna?” her big sister spoke "This sounds to me like some sort of joke.” “It's no joke, I promise,” said Luna, so dear. “It's a time of gift giving; a time of good cheer!” “Hearth's Warming it's like,” Celestia said, “But where is it held? To know this, I dread.” “In the world of the humans,” said Luna, now beaming, “I go there sometimes, but I swear I'm not scheming.” “Not scheming, you say?” asked Celestia the skeptic. “No, not at all,” Luna said, “Don't become apopleptic.” “Apopleptic?” echoed horse, large and pinkish white “It means 'very angry,'” said Luna, “Alright?” “I am not 'apopleptic,'” said Celestia, then, “I'm curious why you would go there -- and when.” “I go only rarely,” said Luna, defensive, “When I am bored, and feeling quite pensive.” “We'll speak about this,” Celestia growled, “Once this is over,” and then she scowled. Luna felt sheepish, but still she replied, “Anyway, we should summon the Grinch to our side.” “What is the Grinch?” Celestia wondered. “A right wretched thing!” Luna then thundered. “He hates all things cheery, and rides in a sleigh. He'll help us steal all of Hearth's Warming away!” “Alright, we'll do it,” came sister's reply. “Whom else shall we need, and please tell me why.” “A man,” Luna said, “who is no one's stooge. His name's Ebenezer, the one they call Scrooge.” “Why need we this Scrooge?” begged lofty mare. “He's vital,” said Luna, meeting her stare. “He's grumpy and surly and greedy and cold. While the Grinch steals their trinkets, the ponies he'll scold!” “Why need we a scolder?” Her sister did venture, Luna said, “The Grinch will have need of his censure. Scrooge must break down all their spirit of hope, Or they'll start to sing, and the Grinch will turn dope! He'll give back their toys and their ribbons and food. It's not just the gifts; Hearth's Warming's a mood.” Celestia said “So we must make them dreary, 'Til now, I admit, of your plan I've been leery, but I see now, my sister, you have it all sorted. Though I must admit that I feel this is sordid.” “Sorted and Sordid,” asked Luna, suspicious, “Are homophones rhymes, or am I too vicious?” “Too vicious,” said her sister, seeming quite hurt. “I am doing my best; this is harder than dirt.” “You are right; it's forgiven,” said Luna, so fair. “But now to the mirror, my sweet, goodly mare.” Now, shortly they opened not one, but two portals And summoned unto them a pair of foul mortals. The first one arrived as a pony, however, A disguise quite convenient, though not very clever: An earth pony, gray, with coins on his flank. He looked like a pony who might run a bank. He had on his head a silken top hat. He was tall, and had on him not one ounce of fat He was skinny and wiry and seemed very miffed “Where am I?” he asked. His eyes seemed to shift. “Equestria, sir,” quoth dark alicorn, “There's gold to be had. So, spare us your scorn.” “Gold!?” asked the pony, his eyes quickly brightening His scowl turned to mirth at the word just like lightning. “Your own weight and more,” Luna said then. “Just go out for a walk and be no one's friend. Spoil their good will and their sense of good cheer.” He said, “Why that's easy; I do it each year!” With that he was off and out of the door, And the sisters did fire up the mirror once more. It clattered and clanged and it sparked and it burned. It smelled like burnt rubber, and their stomachs turned. It flashed very brightly, as it had already, And it shook and it rattled as if quite unsteady. At last stood the Grinch, a donkey, but green, On sight of the horses, he gave quite a scream. “You are not Whos,” he said in surprise. “You are Whats, as nearly as I might surmise!” Celestia shrugged, “Let me take this one; Whats and or Whos? Why, both have been done. What's crucial's who's speaking, and that, sir, is me. Hear my request, sir; that is my plea.” “Let's have it,” said Grinch, his eyebrow now raising, And Celestia spoke, taking care in her phrasing. “You've stolen Christmas, or plan to, I'm told, But your plan needs proving, if I might be bold.” “Needs proving?” asked donkey, green and foul-smelling. “Of course,” said the Princess, “It's really quite telling; Your demeanor, I mean; that you've had no training at this endeavor towards which you're straining. Try to steal Christmas without a sound plot And you'll be a failure; the whole plan is shot.” “And you would propose?” said the Grinch, unimpressed. She said, “Why good sir, that you give it a test! Steal Hearth's Warming from Canterlot, here. I will provide all you need; have no fear.” “What's in it for you,” said the Grinch, being cautious. “Hearth's Warming,” she said, “is making us nauseous.” “I see!” said the Grinch, seeming quite glad. “Then I'll do it pro bono; I'm not even mad! And all I will need is a magical sleigh in which to haul this Hearth's Warming away.” Celestia said, “Then this deal is struck! You'll have these things; I wish you good luck!” So shortly it was with some quick preparation She retired to bed, the head of her nation, and left then her sister to watch the Grinch work, and to give Scrooge his gold for being a jerk. When she awoke, and she raised the sun high, She found sister Luna, a tear in her eye. “We're awful,” said Luna, “The ponies are crying. We stole their Hearth's Warming. I feel like dying.” “It can't be so bad,” Celestia said, "I'll go check it out, then go back to bed." But when she stepped out to go for a walk, She found a scene that caused her to balk. The ponies were weeping, that much was true, and all of them seemed a few shades too blue. “Hearth's Warming was stolen,” they cried out with pains, “And that terrible Scrooge has ruffled our manes. We don't want to sing, and we won't spread cheer. Never again; not after this year!” "Now, that's just absurd,” said now the princess. “There is no harm in just one day's excess. Tell just one story, or sing just one song. Either is fine, and it needn't be long.” “No,” said the ponies, “We've had far too much. Of songs and of stories and carols and such. We're off to work, to make back the bits We foolishly spent in holiday fits.” Back to her sister Celestia ran. “Is this what we wanted? Was this our plan?” She asked of the younger, who promptly said “No,” Then added, “Yes; I guess I don't know.” “Homophones, Luna?” asked the big horse, The smaller replied “I'm sad. So, of course.” Celestia sighed, “Well, we must set this right.” “Yes,” said her sister, and then both took flight. They flew to the Castle, and ran to the room With the mirror by which they had wrought all this gloom. They dove through it quickly and found themselves changed Into Whos; not quite human, but sort of the same. They asked around Whoville; asked where the Grinch stayed, And when they found out, their way there they made. Celestia knocked, and Luna stood hidden, Clutching a crowbar so that when bidden by her big sister through signal discrete She might knock him cold right there at her feet. Surprised was she then, when he opened the door, And his face was changed – not at all like before! He said “My dear ladies, I know why you're here! You've come to restore your Hearth's Warming cheer. I've seen the error of my selfish hate.” He was silenced by crowbar striking his pate. Quickly, before he had time to awaken What he had stolen was quickly retaken. All of Hearth's Warming they loaded in sleigh, And quickly thereafter, they pulled it away. Soon they were home, but they still needed more. They might have their things, but the ponies were sore. It would take Scrooge as well, so back through the glass. They emerged in old London, each one a fine lass, Or a lady, more proper. They were grown women, sure, But that they were fine, no man would abjure. This made them some trouble as they wandered so chipper. Twice they fought drunks, and once Jack the Ripper. Each man expecting an easy assault Soundly was clobbered; it was all their own fault. Jack, perchance knowing of Scrooge's address Was thrown in the river. They wished him their best. They rang the doorbell of old Ebenezer. No crowbar at hand, they grabbed the old geezer. Then, back they ran to the Lot of the Canter, Beset all the way by Scrooge's odd banter Of three ghosts who came in the night to his bed; How he'd rather be mourned than forgotten when dead. They ignored him completely, and put him on trial; Demanded he take back his humbugs so vile. He said “Well, that's fine, if that's all of your needs “I'm sorry. Merry Christmas, you cute, little steeds, “Or Happy Hearth's Warming, whatever that means. “I'm off to pay visit to a man of small means.” Luna said “Homonyms!? I am aghast!” “I know,” said her sister, “they're really a gas!” "Slick," said Luna. “Thank you,” said Celestia. “Now, back to the meter, loose though it be, Send Scrooge on his way, and let's you and me Give back to the ponies of fair Canterlot their toys and their tinsel and all of that rot!” “Aye, my dear sister,” said Luna, quite pleased. And by her old Scrooge was right quickly seized. She sent him to London, to Bob Cratchit's house, Where he showed himself to be not such a louse. By the way, of the Grinch, if you should wonder, Well, Luna's fine blow was a bit of a blunder. He could not remember the lesson he'd learned, His heart shrank twelve sizes, and Whoville he burned. But Canterlot had their finest Hearth's Warming, All of the ponies 'round Princesses swarming. They cried, “Hail the sisters of sun and the moon Who brought righteous justice to whatever goon Did steal our Hearth's Warming. And better than that, They taught old Scrooge in his silken top hat, The meaning of Christmas, and Hearth's Warming, too, So now his old heart is worthy and true!” These misconceptions, the sisters allowed For fear of the anger of such a large crowd. For round them the ponies had gathered together To sing their old carols as they'd done forever. “What harm could it be?” sighed Celestia, tall And Luna, the shorter, said “Why, none at all.” “Then we are agreed,” said her dearest kin. “Let's leave them to revel, while we both go in.” And that my dear readers is why, to this day, In Canterlot City, where unicorns stay, They tell every year a marvelous story A tale of good cheer; An epic of glory Of how the those two sisters of silver and gold, One of star hot, one of sphere white and cold, Rescued Hearth's Warming from two wicked creatures. Alongside the Pageants, their story now features; An action-packed thriller; a tale quite heroic, Which heats up the blood of even the stoic, With scenes of horn fencing and battles arcane. The special effects are outright insane! The sisters, they watch and they smile from their booth. Both of them glad that no one knows the truth. And if you should wonder at all, by the way, They got their time off the very next day. In memory of the great deed she had done, Celestia did nothing once she'd raised the sun. Nor Luna once she had put moon in the sky. Nightmares were had but the ponies got by. Thus to this day, it's a law in the 'Lot, Whether their subjects should like it or not, That Princesses after Hearth's Warming are free For one full day from their duties, you see. And so in the end, it all worked out well For all but the Grinch, who's now in a cell. finem Happy Hearth's Warming, folks.