Too late...

(Has image of Santa slamming his sack of toys to the ground, shouting "You shall not pass!" Ultimately, he falls, to be replaced by Santa the White...)

(Either that, or having Lee Majors show up on a snowmobile to save the day.)

"Are you going to see Santa tomorrow?"

"Why would I? Jewish, remember? Besides, mall Santas are creepy."

"Yeah, but this is Blood. We get the real deal, not some surly alcoholic in a fake beard. He does a tour every year. Us, Sunnydale, I think Atlantis, and a few other places. And he's gonna be on the Mall-- that nice big grassy area in downtown, across from City Hall. They build a little cabin every year. It's pretty.

Last night in Sang Sacre.

I'm in the lighting display command center. Along with me are Inga and some other castle staff members. There's Jake, Deigo, Kim, Linda, and two guys in red shirts whose names I can't recall. It's time for the first test run of the lighting display.

I take a seat in my command center chair and give the first command. "Tell Scott in physical plant to start the fusion reactor."

All throughout the city lights dim and flicker as the capacitators charge for the massive amount of power needed to start the reactor. Somewhere deep in the Castle Scott throws the big lever and the fusion reactor comes to life. The final surge of power gives the city an opening act of green lit skys and transformers blow all over. The city goes dark, but the the reactor is running smoothly.

Scott's voice reports in over the intercomm. "Reactor is online sir."

I settle back in my chair. "Active cooling system. Put the viewscreen on."

The big screen in the front of the command center shows the Castle and forrest from a remote camera in the city. Kim reports "Coolent pressure is at 100% sir."

"Forrest Lights"

The view on the screen shows the rainbow of LED lights appear all throughout the forrest. There is some ooooing and ahhhhing as everyone in the command center enjoys the view.

Now for the big momment. "Castle Lights"

The viewscreen floods with light as night turns into day. The camera automatically polorizes to combat the brightness. In the city there are some who duck and cover mistaking the flood of light for the flash of a nuclear explosion.

"Coolent."

Kim looks at her screen and reports. "Pressure is steady at 100%."

"Good. Okay, lets have the computer load up some animations to..."

"Pressure is falling. 90%"

I look toward Jake. "What's going on with the coolent? Get me a report."

Suddenly all the lights go off for a second and come back on.

"What the hell? Why..."

The lights blink again.

"Coolent at 80%"

The lights continue to blink faster and faster. The light display has becom the world's largest strobe light.

"There must be a flasher bulb in there someplace." Reports Linda.

"Coolent at 70% and falling".

I hit the intercom button. "Scott what's going on with those pumps? I need more coolent pressure."

"Coolent at 50%"

Scott's voice breaks in over the intercom. "I'm giving you all the pressure I can. The pumps can't take anymore."

"Coolent at 40%. Heat is reaching critical."

One of panels in the control center explodes in a shower of sparks and knocks out one of the guys in a red shirt. This is the last time I'm buying a command center kit from ACME discount command centers.

"Coolent at 20%. Heat is at critical levels."

I pound a fist on the arm of my chair. "Shut it down!"

The lights go dark.

I turn to the other guy in a red shirt. "Go down and work with Scott to figure out what went wrong."

The other guy in a red shirt turns and takes one step before tripping over a cat, falling into a panel, and knocking himself out.

"Deigo, you go work with Scott and get that damn cat out of here."

"Bob?"

"Yeah?"

"Your vampiric vision can see in this pitch dark, right?"

"Yep."

"Good, you're lead. Achmed?"

"Yes, sitt?"

"Where did we leave the torches and pitchforks from the last time we had to deal with Gudanov?"

"Utility room in the basement, sitt. We'll probably find all the neighbors on their way down to collect their, um, accoutrements."

"Right. Time for an angry mob, I think, Blood-style. Bob, I heard you lick your lips."

"Sorry, you said blood."

"Angry mob! Look, Am, an angry mob!"

I climb-- slightly shakily-- off the ladder (apparently, it isn't Christmas without tinsel on the ceiling; the things I do to get my bear to let me eat cake), and peer out the window.

Edward's right. Huh.

"You want to go and join them, then?"

Edward nods, and produces a scaled-down pitchfork from somewhere.

"Okay, then. Ride on my shoulder, and we see where this mob's going. So long as it isn't shopping-- we did enough of that last week."

"Angry mob sir." Reports Inga.

"Again?"

Inga nods.

"Have they gone into the forrest yet?"

"No."

"Good, then just handle it the usual way." I tell her.

"Then, download and print all the fanfic on shriftweb and fire a round of pamplet dispersal missles over the mob?"

I nod. "Like I said, the usual. I don't want them going into the forrest, the forrest hates angry mobs and I wouldn't anything to happen to the local experimental sub...err...people."

"Very thoughtful of you sir."

"Yeah. Plus, I just upgraded the pamplet dispersal missiles and want to see how they work."

"This is taking far too long. How long have we been waiting in this line Deimos?"

My minion, who has taken the form of a female child to help us blend in, looks at her watch. "Ten seconds boss."

I look at the line ahead and see several snotty nosed, bothersome children in front of us waiting their turn to sit on this Santa Claus's obese lap and whine about the pathetic toys they want. Looking around, I only see a couple of elfs. They don't look much like elves, are wearing stupid-looking shoes, and appear totally unarmed.

"This Santa Claus must be powerful indeed to have so little protection. I haven't sensed a single ward, and these so called elves look worthless. I suppose it was wise of me to stand in this line and take him by surprise. How long has it been now?"

"20 seconds boss"

A paper airline shatters my window at hurricane speed and imbeds itself in the wall opposite my desk. I put down my angry rake and pull it out of the wall without tearing it. Heh. A saucy bit of Willow/Faith fic. Well, alright...

No, no, no, the castle's barely in sight, and already the mob's getting distracted by pamphlets. Curse that Gudanov and all his mad scientist ilk.

"Achmed, put that down! Eris knows what subversive propaganda he's firing at us!"

My faithful houseboy doesn't even look up. "I'm sorry, sitt, but . . . well, Kendra . . . they never did enough with her . . ."

Oh, no. Fic-bombs. Bombs of fic. Maybe even fic that bombs. I turn around, looking for support.

"Oh, for--Bob!"

He does look up. "What! I'll let you read it when I'm done. It's a new Wes/Gunn, current season. Gunn's saying something about a bucket."

Fine. I can't fight this. Gudanov wins this round, but, as Goddess is my witness, one day, you mad fiend, you'll--

Huh? What's that?

I crouch down and pick up the bundle of pages slowly, recognizing names. "Oh, sweet mother," I whisper. "It's a new Domestic Piranhas." I look around furtively, afraid someone will take it from me, then I lean against Bob--useful sturdy prop that he is--and begin reading.