#drpchristmas2014

[oh-look-youre-here-too]

To Mother Gothel, From Santa

Set on top of Mother Gothel’s vanity mirror is a tub of unwrapped aging cream, carefully labeled as anti-aging cream. A cheap red bow is stuck to the top of the cream with a piece of tape. along with a small note card with a small, disapproving message. “Naughtiest Villain of the Year.”

Gothel sighed and closed the door to her room, after having just been through a healing song. She noticed the small tub and card with a raised eyebrow. Who or what left this here? With apprehension she looked over the tub and card and read them to herself. With a chuckle she took the card and put it in the center of her mantelpiece. It had been a while since she’d left Mary down in the sea. Perhaps it’s time I check on her…

She looked through the spyglass with a smirk as the fog cleared through the tube and Mary came into vision. She sat calmly in a rather comfortable looking armchair, a cup of tea on the table beside her, and a book in her hands. Gothel stared at the scene, her heart frozen. After a minute she slowly put the spyglass down and looked at the tub of cream in her hand. A scream of rage erupted from her throat as she pegged it across the room and smashed it against the wall and slammed her fists down on the table. How is this possible? SHE’S SUPPOSED TO BE DEAD! As she stood there still seething Gothel knew that she needed to know what happened. 

[dont-give-us-a-reason]

To Viktor and Bruno Stabbington, From Santa

iamoldkriskringle:

Waiting for the Stabbington Brothers on Christmas morning is a gift for each of them. The first, for Bruno, is a nicely framed copy of a bad review of Bruno Stabbington’s poetry. For Viktor, inside a small shoebox with a ribbon taped to the lid is a carved statue of Flynn Rider standing victoriously on top of the Stabbington brothers’ unconscious bodies. A note is attached for the twins. “Happy Christmas, you jerks. Here’s a bit of what you both deserve.”

"…Hey Bruno, this junk is more personal than it normally is," Viktor Stabbington observed, frowning with furrowed brows at the wooden carving in his hand. "Want to bet the old white-beard had a few new elves this year?" 

Bruno frowned down at the words in the picture frame, reading every single word with a look as though it were a person who he was about to kill. He closed his eye as he finished, mentally counting down from 10. Moments later, he murmured the numbers aloud. “4… 3… 2… 1…” He opened his eye again, glanced at the review, and with very little effort, smashed the frame to pieces against the corner of a table. “Yeah, Maybe…”

Viktor watched his brother, and a moment later, he crushed the wooden statue between the palms of his massive, meaty hands. As the delicately carved wooden chunks fell to the floor, Viktor brushed his palms against each other to dislodge any splinters. “We don’t need free hand outs from some old chimney-clogger. Let’s move out, Bruno. We got a whole line of jobs to get done before noon.” 

[james-pleiades-blog]

To Jim, From Santa

Resting on Jim Hawkin’s pillow, is a tin with a red bow tied around it. The tin is labelled “Sam’s Supreme Solar Surfer Wax”. Peeking out from beneath the ribbon is a tag. “Merry Christmas. Stay out of trouble this year.”

Jim chuckled at the note. “I can’t make any promises about that,” he smirked, lightly tossing the tin in his other hand.

[theseawitchcanhelpyou-blog]

To Ursula, From Santa

Sitting amongst Ursula’s potions and ingredients on her vanity desk is a simple silver fork with a lopsided gold ribbon and a note attached that reads, “This is the closest to the Trident you will ever have. Merry Christmas, from the naughty list.”

Oh how cute, a little offering to the great sea witch. She chuckled as she picked up the human item. The cecaelia’s coils took the note from the silver fork, accidentally tearing it a little. As she read, the witch’s expression darkened. The blood boiling inside her, the tentacle wrapped around the piece of parchment with a death-like grip. Her sights went to the fork in her hand, knuckles now white.

"It will be mine.”

For dramatic emphasis, she threw the scrap metal across her lair, not caring where it went. The fork whizzed through the water to stick violently into the cave wall, the handle shaking in response.

[you-look-rather-dashing]

Wrapped in rather stylish silver paper with white snowflakes printed on it, and tied off with a large silver and gold-trimmed bow, is a small rectangular box. On the other side of all the pretty wrapping is a pair of hot new heels that a woman on the go can comfortably run in. Resting in the box alongside the shoes is a note that reads, “For a bright woman who has been very giving and considerate this year. Merry Christmas, Mirage.”

Mirage eyed the heels with suspicion and looked around her flat. There seemed to be no sign of forced entry, and besides some cookies she’d noticed missing from her cabinet, the whole place was in order. She’d missed Christmas, being deep undercover, but assumed that the gift had been delivered then. Warily, she slipped them on, and took a few strides around. They fit like a glove and with a small laugh she began to race about and even did a tumble. 

"Wherever you are Old Saint Nick, I think you’ve given Edna a run for her money."

[its--kristoff-blog]

Secret Santa

The gift is wrapped neatly in a makeshift newspaper wrapping with news of the countdown to Christmas reaching the headlines. A pretty royal blue bow is tied to perfection around the present and with a hint of glowing sparkles in the middle- something like a pixie dust shine. Inside the box laid a rolled up sleeping bag, dark green in color, with plenty of padding, warm for even the coldest winter nights. On the end of the sleeping bag in a light green lettering was “Kristoff Bjorgman” stitched in a cursive writing. When the sleeping bag was unrolled, a bunch of carrots were revealed with a packet of carrot seeds. On the back of the seeds in a font of an experienced writer was written “I hope your smelly reindeer and you enjoy these carrots, and maybe plant some more so you will have some later.” A small slip of paper was revealed to be tucked into the sleeping bag with the words “Merry Christmas. Your Secret Santa” written in calligraphy.

Kristoff was abruptly woken up by the uncomfortable sensation of a wet, slobbery tongue on his face. Kristoff opened his eyes and swatted his reindeer friend away. “Pleugh! Sven, get outta here!” “BUt it’S CHRistMAs!” Kristoff sighed as a chuckle escaped with the breath. “Alright, come here ya goofus.” Kristoff wrapped his arms around the reindeer’s neck and patted him on the back. “Hey let’s go open some presents, huh?” 

Kristoff neatly opened the gift wrapped in newspaper and pulled out the sleeping bag. “Ooh! Look at this, Sven! It, it’s so nice!” “YEaH BUt it’S A SLeePInG BaG!” “Yeah, but it’s so warm!” Kristoff said as he unrolled the bedding. “And look! My name! It has my name on it! This is-“

He was abruptly cut off as a slight thud was heard on the ground below him. Kristoff looked beneath his feet and spotted a bushel of carrots. He excitedly reached down and pulled the carrots up by the leaves and held them victoriously in the air. "LOOK! CARROTS!" He quickly brought them behind his back and pointed a finger at Sven. "No. These are ours to share." Kristoff bent over to pick up the packet of seeds that had fallen out with it and turned it over, revealing the note. 

Although Kristoff was quite skeptical of this whole "Christmas spirit" thing, he was certainly feeling very happy and warm inside as he opened the gifts from his Secret Santa. Sven curled up and laid his head in Kristoff's lap, and they took turns taking bites of the carrot. "Merry Christmas, Sven." "mERrY CHRiSTmAs, kRIStofF."

[dynamite-guy-fixit-felix]

Secret Santa

A plate of delicious lemon beignets, covered in a generous coat of soft powdered sugar, and adorned with ripe red strawberries. Though it isn’t pie, it’s a favorite among many, and the taste is certain to delight. Wrapped in a tight plastic-wrap and festive red and gold bow, a little note dangles from the top. It reads; "Something sweet for someone special! Happy Holidays!"

“Gee, these sure don't look like anything I've seen Mary Nicelander bake for me,” Felix said, smiling brightly as he held up one of the delicious looking something's that had been given to him in the plastic-wrapped pouch. He took a bite of half of the dessert in his hand, and his face lit up even more at the mix of powdered sugar, fried lemon-flavored dough, and fresh strawberries. The little fixer happily popped the rest of the treat in his mouth, and gave a merry bounce.

“Mmm-mm! Wow, these are really something!” Taking a moment to look again at the note dangling from the gift, Felix smiled and shook his head at the absence of a name. “I suppose I'll have to wait a while longer before I can ask what they're called! Thank you so much, friend! Even though I don't know who you are yet, I'm sure that's what I should call you.”

[dynamite-guy-fixit-felix]

To Fix-It Felix Jr., From Santa

iamoldkriskringle:

Waiting at the base of Felix’s bed, Christmas morning, is a box wrapped in a brightly colored 8-bit paper. A note is carefully attached on top. The tidy script reads, “Be careful outside of your game, and Merry Christmas!” Inside the box, is a 1up mushroom.

"Gee, this is great!" Felix exclaimed, tossing the green-topped mushroom high in the air with one hand, and catching it expertly in the other. "These mushrooms work pretty much any place in the gaming world! I'm sure Tammy would be happy to see me with one of these! Thanks, Mario!"

Felix paused a moment, looking a bit more closely at the tag on the top. "...Oh! Sorry, that's the wrong man in red!" the little fixer laughed. "This is awful nice of you, Santa Claus. Thank you kindly!"