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fandomtownies2007-12-25 08:37 pm
fh_extras) wrote in fandomtownies2007-12-25 08:37 pm
Efferton Manor: Tuesday morning
The morning had come, and with it Christmas day
Had the Grinch been less Grinchy, he'd have proclaimed 'YAY'
But he was, so he didn't, though his handiwork he admired
As he moved to the window, to see what had transpired
The Grinch he did listen, the Grinch he did peer
Out over the island through the morn, bright and clear
He was greeted only by silence, not crying and tears
Which, it goes without saying, filled him not with cheer
"I don't understand," he railed at the air.
"Where is the wailing, don't they even care?"
He consoled himself slightly, "At least they're not singing."
Then kicked at the dog, who he was sure was grinning.
A bad feeling was growing, though he ignored it, of course
Deciding instead he would go steal the horse.
First he'd help himself to the feasts he had stolen
And stuff himself silly, 'til his belly was swollen
(Poor Grinch, who had absolutely zero clue
What he'd gotten himself so roundly into
You'd almost feel pity, if he weren't such a clod
And if he wasn't so nasty to his poor little dog.)
[ooc: For those who've come to reclaim their stolen Christmases! There's a trail of Christmas detritus - tinsel and random decorations, etc - leading from each of the hit homes to Efferton manor, and the Grinch is in a room up the top, surrounded by all the stolen loot. Still in his Claus costume, of course. No need to co-ordinate everyone together - feel free to have each party arrive separately at different times.
I'm going to bed now, 'cause sleeeeeepy, but should be up around noon EST to pick up pings.]
Had the Grinch been less Grinchy, he'd have proclaimed 'YAY'
But he was, so he didn't, though his handiwork he admired
As he moved to the window, to see what had transpired
The Grinch he did listen, the Grinch he did peer
Out over the island through the morn, bright and clear
He was greeted only by silence, not crying and tears
Which, it goes without saying, filled him not with cheer
"I don't understand," he railed at the air.
"Where is the wailing, don't they even care?"
He consoled himself slightly, "At least they're not singing."
Then kicked at the dog, who he was sure was grinning.
A bad feeling was growing, though he ignored it, of course
Deciding instead he would go steal the horse.
First he'd help himself to the feasts he had stolen
And stuff himself silly, 'til his belly was swollen
(Poor Grinch, who had absolutely zero clue
What he'd gotten himself so roundly into
You'd almost feel pity, if he weren't such a clod
And if he wasn't so nasty to his poor little dog.)
[ooc: For those who've come to reclaim their stolen Christmases! There's a trail of Christmas detritus - tinsel and random decorations, etc - leading from each of the hit homes to Efferton manor, and the Grinch is in a room up the top, surrounded by all the stolen loot. Still in his Claus costume, of course. No need to co-ordinate everyone together - feel free to have each party arrive separately at different times.
I'm going to bed now, 'cause sleeeeeepy, but should be up around noon EST to pick up pings.]
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But he'd spent money--not his, but that was hardly the point--on those damn presents and he wanted them back.
"Why's the rum gone?" he bellowed.
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Then round behind a chair he did rapidly scurry
"Why are you here, and what do you mean?
How dare you come here and cause such a scene!"
He was starting to worry, more than a bit
But he'd try for a bluff, and see what came of it.
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Who scuttled away to hide in the logs
"You rotten old horrible useless damn dog!
I guess if you're here I'd best give you your grog.
Your rum is right there, and your nuts and your baubles
Now please leave me be, I don't want any trouble."
The pirate quite scared him, the smell and the snore
And he wanted to hide, not be here any more.
The island was horrible, even more so than Christmas
Next year on his travels he'd give it a huge miss.
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"Where's my stuff!" he began to wail.
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Prepared at this point to toss in the towel
One question to ask, for it began to annoy,
"Why are you rhyming, you horrible boy?"
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Right over there was his large stack
of magazines and books that were so dear
of trucks and on trucking, his future career.
"I'm not horrible," he said with a pout.
"You are, you great big present-stealing lout!"
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The Grinch scooped them up, at the boy he did fling
"Take them, just take them, take your magazines."
He yelled as away from the boy he careened.
"Take whatever you must, just begone from my sight
Christmas is bad, but you're a far worse blight."
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He pretty much just stood in the doorway with his arms crossed and loomed.
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Then dived under the table, and there he did stay
"Take it, just take, it's all over there."
He gestured and waved one hand in the air.
The Grinch might be nasty and the Grinch might be mean
But he was far from stupid, he did not want a scene
So he quivered and cowered and hoped for the best
Waiting to see if he'd be further addressed
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It was a good tree, paper though it might be. And he had spend a lot of time juggling on sidewalks earning the money it took to get that charcoal for Naminé.
"I believe," he said, raising a hand in the air, "that you've taken something that belongs to me."
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He'd be bolting out of here, bound hell for leather
As soon as he could, to flee this damn island
Go back to the mountains, make his home in the highlands.
He was inching away, moving back from the hand
"Stay far away," was his barked command
Though it was more of a plea. "It's all over there."
This day had turned dreadful, it was quite unfair.
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At least this small outing hadn't been boring?
He grinned and stepped forward, his knuckles he cracked, before he strolled to gather his stash of small holiday items, their trinkets and tree. He shoved them in his pockets, filled with great Christmas glee.
He wasn't a fighter, he had no lethal skill, but he'd stand tall and act fierce as though he could kill. After all a performer was never the sort one should mess with on a hazy, first Christmas-type morn.
Grr? Grr snarr?
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And he cringed and he cried.
"Just take your damn christmas,"
he yelled and he sighed.
For truly this was a rhymer profligate
Out of here he must get, he could no longer wait
He bolted away, out the door down the hall
And the dog trotted after, carrying a ball
And looking quite smug as he trotted away
The moral of this? Every dog has its day.
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"Where's the gifts?" John asked gruffly.
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Stared with stark terror, adrift and bereft
"The gifts, the gifts," he stumbled and stammered
"Are over there." It almost approached manners
But fear can work wonders on even a Grinch
And he smiled and smiled and tried not to flinch
"I brought them for safekeeping," he lied through his teeth
"As rumours abounded about a Christmas thief.
But now you are here, and the gifts they are fine
And I'll just take my leave, and begrudge not my time."
He slowly backed up, smiling all the while
Movements careful and slow, not wanting to rile
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But there were some encounters he was not meant to win
Finding value in silence and in holding quite still
He stayed where he was, and contemplated his will
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There was nothing like that to be found anywhere
It had all gone to heck and to horror and ruin
He just wanted to run, and to do it quite soon
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If he didn't get his ornaments back, there was a chance that someone would be having roast Grinch for dinner.
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Simply grateful this time that it wasn't a crowd.
"You're things they are sitting on the shelf over there.
Take them away, far away, I really don't care!
Just leave me in peace, just leave me be.
All I want in the world is to leave here and flee!"
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