Merry Christmas! It's a Davis/Kari pairing, and a big bumper pack of Christmas fun.
           Well, not really.

Christmas Bumper Story Pack!
Four Christmas Tales: Two Incomplete, One An Epic, And Another About A Rubbish Author

Herr Mullen sniffled into his handkerchief. He took it away from his nose, and stuffed it back into his blazer pocket, in a nice triangular fashion. He would have looked quite classy, if his clothes weren't all stained with whatever he had eaten for dinner that day. Today, Jyou concluded, it had been ribs. He leaned on the table by the wall next to him, looking over at the desk, his hand in his pocket. He looked quite cool. If he had a trilby, he could've passed for a detective.

          Herr Mullen downed the last of his brandy. "My dear readers!" He boomed, red in the face, "Tonight I bring you a fun-filled Christmas bumper story package!" He giggled a little, slightly tipsy. He picked up the brandy bottle next to him, and poured it into his glass. "It should be recognised that all characters are property of Toei, and Fox Kids, apparently."

          Jyou chuckled.

          "And that snippets or references to other texts or media are also of their own copyright. This contains scenes of a sexual nature, and minors shouldn't read it. All silly jokes belong to Herr Mullen, but being in the Christmas spirit you can use them among friends and acquaintances and say their yours, if you like."

          Mullen picked up a dully-coloured and classy cracker, probably purchased from Marks and Spencer's or Matalan, maybe John Lewis.

          Jyou hesitated, then conceded defeat and took the cracker he pulled it, and it made it's "bang" noise. A party hat fell out, which Mullen promptly placed upon his head. He giggled, and rumbled "Read the joke, read the joke!"

          Jyou picked up the joke. "What's brown and got a 7.6 on the Soni Scale?"

          "I don't know, what's brown and got a 7.6 on the Soni Scale?"

          Jyou told him. Mullen was too drunk to notice.

 

Daisuke slid the sack over his reindeer, which protruded from under his red and white jacket. He wore the hat, boots, jacket and belt. The trousers were absent, however they had a note from their parents about a dentist appointment, so it was fine.

          "Father Christmas needs his reindeer, baby."

          Hikari wiggled her bottom at him, little tail tied 'round her waist, red nose attached with elastic, and a headband with antlers. Then she hesitated.

          "What noise do reindeer's make?"

          "I think they bark."

          Hikari shrugged. "Woof! Woof!"

          Daisuke climbed onto the bed, north pole wobbling above Saint Nick's sack. He plunged it down the chimney, causing Hikari to give a sharp yelp of pain, that was soon replaced with a pleasured moan.
          "Daisuke!" Hikari moaned, "You may not have the greatest endowment of all time but, ah, you know how to use what you have."
          Daisuke frowned. "You've been a bad girl," he said. "you've wounded Father Christmas's ego. You get coal."
          He pulled out of her, and she grunted in disappointment. He rammed himself into the other place, causing a sharper yell. "Daisuke! What're you doing?" she half-screamed.
          "That was very naughty of you," said Daisuke, "To talk of Father Christmas's stocking-stuffer in that manner."
          Slap, slap slap they went, Daisuke grinding against Hikari's smooth, silky hips. Daisuke lent over her shoulder and gave her a love bite-
          "Ow! What do you think you are doing!" Hikari pulled herself off of Daisuke. "That was just mean!" She said, tears welling in her eyes, as she turned and leaned back on the headboard. "If I had bled, that would be nasty; human bites are even worse than dogs!"
          Daisuke sat, slightly stunned, for a moment before uttering "sorry" in a small voice. "I should probably go..."
          "No, don't do that," said Hikari, "Here, let your little reindeer treat you, Saint Nick."
         Hikari leaned over, and slid her mouth over the sheath. Daisuke gave a moan, and reached down and into Hikaris hips, wetting his hand, and moving it in and out whilst Hikari went up and down with her head. You desperately wish someone would draw a picture of this. Daisuke grunted and held onto his desperate desire to ejaculate, quickening his pace and desperately trying to find a g-spot. It was much easier with a penis, he decided. Much easier.
         Hikari moaned and vibrated Daisuke's raincoat covered fisherman. Someone moaned at the absolutely awful analogy, and missed the bit where Daisuke groaned "Oh, Hikari!" and began thrusting rapidly, into Hikari's mouth, his hand freezing whilst he climaxed, as men can't multitask, much to Hikari's irritation; she was taking far too long to reach her breaking point, it seemed as far off as the end of this sentence, so she was relieved when it finally came to and end with a single full stop.
         Hikari gasped Daisuke's name, gasping for breath as Daisuke's short fingers finally located her clitoris, covering them with... well, I think you know what a female orgasm looks like.
         Or, at least, I hope you do.
         Hikari panted, and crawled up Daisuke, giving him a tight hug.
         "You were fantastic..."
         "Thanks... you weren't too bad yourself."
         "...Now put your little man away."
         Daisuke flushed red. Hikari was cruel with her (hopefully) inadvertent crushing of his pride. His trousers came back from the dentist, their zip having been given a clean bill of health but instructions to take more time over the back of their incisors.

"That's just a sex scene."
         Herr Mullen rumbled a little, his ruddy face rippling. He took another swig of brandy.
         "And?"
         "Don't you think people want to see how they ended up like that?"
         Herr Mullen thought. He frowned, and placed a hand on one of his numerous chins, the other itching his scalp. He rumbled along to himself, stood up, paced behind his chair a little, until the exertion became too much for him, and he sat back down. He drink some more brandy.
         "No. Onto the next story!"
         Jyou sighed.
         "This is why you've been doing so badly. You have no structure. Look, here..." Jyou grabbed a sheet of blank paper and scribbled on it with pencil. "This is a story structure for you; beginning, problem (probably containing lust for someone), worry, exposure, sex scene and end. Follow that, and I guarantee at least an eight on the Soni Scale."
         Herr Mullen adjusted his party hat. "I got two eight plus marks. Two out of three isn't bad."
         "Onto the story, Herr Mullen."
         And onto the story he went.

The Digital Kaizer looked at the main screen of his big floating fortress ship thingy. The picture flipped between black-spired territories, each one a picture of white, with a blue scar between the white clouds, drifting overhead, sprinkling the cake that was the land with the icing sugar that is snow, which is actually quite a lot less like icing sugar and a lot more like cold wet tasteless white stuff, and finally one huge black obelisk piercing the picture.
         "Bah, humbug," said the Digital Kaizer. Someone, somewhere, groaned, realising immediately what this was soon going to become a cliche parody of. "All this snow! I want to look at something sunny! Switch to an area below the digital equator."
         A black-ringed Gazimon received the command over the speakers and put one onscreen. To anyone in the room with The Kaizer, it would appear he was talking to the computer itself.
         The Kaizer was quite happy about that effect.
         Wormon scuttled up behind his master's chair. "Please, Ken. tomorrow it will be Christmas day, Could I please have the day off for this happy occasion?"
         The Kaizer stood up. "That is not my name, Wormon! That is not my name!" He kicked Wormon, who crashed into the wall. "Second of all," he continued, "Any man with "Merry Christmas 'pon his lips ought to be boiled and served in his own fig pudding with a sprig of holly, he should! Bah, humbug." He sat down, back into his imposing and artificial-looking armchair. "Leave me, Wormon." He gazed at the warm beach on the screen. "And be sure to be in tomorrow, as I expect it."
         Wormon recovered from the kick, and slowly climbed onto his thoracic legs, pulling himself up onto his abdominal prolegs, before trying to plead with his master again.
         "Please K- Master! My youngest brother is very ill, and we think it may be his last Christmas with us-"
         "Bah! Humbug, Wormon! I want you back here tomorrow! And if you aren't here by noon, you're sacked!"
         Wormon's eyes filled with tears. "You'd sack me? You'd sack your partner, Ken? There is kindness in you, Ken! You've just got to let it shine through-!"
         He had to quickly scuttle out, as The Kaizer got to him feet and, with cape billowing behind him, as only a stiff triangular cape can billow, rushed over to give Wormon another punt. He was evaded, as Wormon scuttled out the doors.
         "Bah!" The Kaizer shouted after him, "Humbug!"
         The Kaizer settled back into his chair, thoroughly ruffled. "Blasted Christmas."
         There was a knock on the door. He rose in a ruffled manner. "'Tis some visitor tapping at my chamber door! Only this and nothing-" he opened the door.
         "We wish you a merry Christmas," sang the carol singers, "We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year! Good tidings we bring, to you and your king-"
         "Kaizer."
         "We wish you merry Christmas and a happy new year!"
         The Kaizer stared at the singers. Some Digitamamon, a Demidevimon, some Sorcerymon and collection of Bakemon stared back at him, lanterns and Christmas hats bobbing.
         "Oh, right, let me get you some change...." The Kaizer reached into his pocket, and took out a small purse tipping the contents into the little bag they were holding out. "I think I saw some fifty pence pieces in there, good luck on the other houses..." He closed the door, then realised his mistake. He opened the door again and shouted down the hall "Um... excuse me!"
         The carol singers looked 'round.
         "You wouldn't mind coming back here for a second, would you?"
         They came back.
         "Would you like to hear Jingle Bells, guv?"
         "No." The Kaizer took the little bag of money, and closed the door on them. He settled back into his chair.
         "Screen turn off!"
         The Gazimon turned the screen off.
         The Kaizer pushed a button on his chair, and a section of the wall moved to reveal a coal fire. Its heat washed over him like waves lapping at the beach. However, this being the Kaizer, I have to make the metaphor slightly evil, so think of that beach and those waves as being in the middle of a terribly violent thunderstorm.
         He slowly nodded off. The overwhelming desire to take forty winks in front of the fireplace was overwhelming, as I have previously mentioned, and as such he slipped into the muddy puddle that was a slumber.
         Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December, and each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor. The Kaizer unconsciously reached into the arm of his chair and pulled over him a blanket washed using the cleaning product called Lenore.
         Somewhere, someone noticed the rhythm was completely off.
         The light within the room changed. It glowed silver 'round a figure, who, with a gesture, raised the shutters covering the windows, which opened and blew a cold chill into the room with the wind.
         The Kaizer pulled his blanket tighter 'round him, shivering slightly. Devimon stood above him, sliver and white, eyes still red, chains clanking with their sway, pushed and tugged in the wind.
         "Wake up, Kaizer. I am here to warn you."
         He touched The Kaizer's head. Ken immediately woke, eyes wide, his head chilled where Devimon placed his hand. He looked up. "A... Devimon?"
         "Greetings, Kaizer."
         The Kaizer sat up, pulling away from Devimon, to the side of his seat.
         "What is this? What are doing here? This is my domain! Get out, get out!"
         Devimon grinned, and narrowed those red eyes. The Kaizer fell silent.
         "I am here to warn you," he looked at him, grinning sarcastically, "Kaizer, that if you do not change your ways, you will be chained, as I am." He held up his clanking, iron chains, rustless ghostly and silver, like no iron should be. "Already your chain is longer than mine. And for each link in your chain, you shall wonder for one hundred years."
         The Kaizer could not hold back "Death holds no fear for me! I am the Kaizer! I rule this world, and I shall rule the next!"
         Devimon shrugged. "Believe what you will, but know that tonight, Kaizer, you shall be visited by three visions. Enjoy your evening, Kaizer."
         And Devimon winked out of existence.
         The Kaizer sat in his chair, the mist of his breath hovering before him, the glow of the fire lighting his features eerily. The Kaizer breathed heavily, and pushed a button on the arm of the chair that closed the windows and shutters. He wrapped the blanket 'round himself, stood up and began to stoke the fire, lest it should go out. He warmed himself in the chill, and closed his eyes.
         A dream. A hallucination. Nothing more.
         The Kaizer reacted like Edgar when confronted with the late night knocking on the door. He froze, rooted to the ground.
         "'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door, some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door. This it is, and nothing more."
         "Nevermore."
         Iori, glowing dull grey, stepped out of the shadows behind him. "I am the ghost of Christmas Past."
         "Bugger."
         Iori stepped closer to The Kaizer, as he began to turn around.
         "Come with me. Let me show you your Christmas Past."
         The Kaizer did nothing. He just stood, looking at Iori.
         "You're going to come with me, now," said Iori, raising his voice and grabbing The Kaizer's hand, "I can't stay too long."
         They tumbled through blackness. Through a dark, sticky passage, cold and dank. They stopped falling, hovering on the balcony of a flat, looking through the window, to last year. The Ichijoji parents gathered 'round the table, The Kaizer totally absent.
         "Where were you that day, Kaizer?"
         "...Taking over section F7 of the Digital World."
         "Really. And you left your parents here, sad and dejected, thinking you didn't want to be with them for Christmas?"
         "That was a strategically important sector! It gave me a large army of Bakemon!"
         "Oh, well that's alright, then. You're chain's been obliterated."
         "Really?"
         "No, of course not!"
         "But it's Christmas! The season of forgiveness and of giving!"
         "Don't try and use my own moral code against me; I'll just stop listening to you."
         "It's the season of giving and forgiving! My chain should be-"
         "Lalalala I'm not listening lalala!-"
         Then The Kaizer was standing in his Command Centre. The fire was billowing, harsh and dry.
         He stood still, in a tableaux, appealing to no-one.
         "Huh. How very odd."
         The Kaizer returned to his chair.
         "When I fall asleep, this'll be over. I'll wake up in the morning, and I'll find Wormon waiting for me, and a golden dawn on the horizon, waiting for me to conquer it...."
         He was woken, when some one shook him.
         "I haven't got long! Wake up, Kaizer!"
         The Kaizer stirred, and found himself looking up into Takeru's face, glowing with a golden aura.
         The Kaizer stared. "Now would be the perfect moment in an erotic thriller for me to declare my undying love for you and have sex in front of the fire."
         "It would be, wouldn't it."
         "Yes. What a pity it isn't."
         "Yes."
         Somewhere, someone felt very disappointed indeed.
         "So, let me guess: Ghost of Christmas Present?"
         "Your powers of deduction are exceptional."
         "Not a dream, then?"
         "No."
         "So... all this is really happening?"
         "Well done. You deserve a biscuit."
         "Fantastic. Could I have one?"
         "No."
         "Oh. Well, can I have my Christmas present, please?"
         "Only in the sense of space-time."
         "Damn. I wanted a train set.
         And then they went through that black, sticky hole.
         Behave.
         The Kaizer found himself and Takeru in a small hovel. It is a Wormon hovel, which are unlike most hovels. They are very clean, and have circular doors, the front one being green and with a golden knob in the centre of it. They were all gathered 'round the dinner table, Wormon and his family. One of them was coughing, rather violently, the others looking sorrowful.
         "He won't give you the day off?"
         "No. Ken is kind, but right now he's just... just a little out of character."
         "Out of character? If he is, as you say, kind, then he's completely off his block! You should get a new job. Wormon got a good job down the blacksmith with Wormon, didn't you, Wormon? And Wormon, too, now I think of it! I'm sure you could get a job there, too, Wormon, if we ask Wormon."
         "Mother, I'm a chosen partner. It isn't a career, it's a destiny!"
         "And what with Wormon being how 'e is an' all... it's shameful. He ought t' be ashamed o' 'imself."
         "It's not his fault, Dad. He doesn't mean to be as he is..."
         "And yet you come back everyday with fresh bruises down your spiracles, yes, I'm sure he's kind! Wake up, Wormon, get out of it. He's headed for a fall, and that's for sure! You don't want to go down with him and do something stupid like get yerself killed. We've got enough on our plate with Wormon!"
         The Kaizer looked on at the sorry assembly. "Are things really so bad for Wormon and his family?"
         "I wouldn't be able to show them to you if they weren't."
         "I see."
         And The Kaizer sat back down in his chair. The glowing embers shadowed sorrowful bags under his eyes know. He looked visibly weak in his chair. Tarekeru was gone.
         The Kaizer thought for a minute or two. Then he decided it would be rude not to be able to offer an expected guest coffee, and put the kettle on.
       He had to reheat The Ghost Of Christmas Future's cup three times before he finally showed up. By that time, The Kaizer had drunk his own.
         The Ghost Of Christmas Future turned up, and The Kaizer was horrified by his appearance.
         Taichi is, in fact, quite ugly in real life. When was the last anime you saw where they actually drew their character's horrible acne? They all seem to have perfect skin, lucky chaps... Nah, I'm just joking. He was taken aback by the scythe and cloak.
         "Ghost Of Christmas Future?"
         The spectre nodded.
         "I have a cup of coffee for you."
         The spectre took it. He had all the time in the world.
         The Kaizer watched Taichi drain the mug, and set it back on the table. then they were once again, falling, into a sticky black hole.
         An empty place at the Wormon table. Two of them, actually.
         "...Where's Wormon?"
         Taichi pointed, robes sleeve hanging off his arm. Straight down.
         "...Downstairs?"
         He shook his head.
         "...Underground?"
         The spectre nodded.
         "...Dead?"
         Another nod.
         "I see."
         The Kaizer hugged himself. He began to shudder, his mask breaking into a face of pain, hard, bend, creased; cracking and wailing and despairing. "Wormon. Not my Wormon! Not my Wormon! He can't... he can't just... die...."
         Sticky, black hole. Tentacles and worms caressing The Kaizer as he fell, grabbing at him, violent and cruel, whipping him with their sticky and cruel vines. He stared at the protruding blackness with horror.
         Then landing, on a grey, dusty land. The World Of Darkness, and before him, a single gravestone in a garden of un-make graves and missing tomes. The name on it:

The Kaizer

And that was all.
         "No!" he screamed at the gravestone. "No, no no!" He grabbed Taichi's robe and pinned him against a church fence for a cathedral that wasn't there, surrounding a graveyard with one stone. "No! I will not have that name upon my stone! I will not have that title befoul my tomb! I am Ken! I am Ken Ichijoji! That is my name! Ken! Ken Ichijoji!"
         He pushed himself off Taichi.
         "That is my name." Ken said, finding himself in his control room. Ashes decorated the fireplace festively, the shutters risen, golden dawn light filtered down on the happy home, draping Ken, his chair, the grey ashes with the fine fabric of dawn light.
         .Ken laughed. He threw his head back and laughed, not a cold cackle, not a cruel taunt, but the warmhearted innocent laughter of a boy.
          Of a boy at Christmas time.
          He rushed over to the expansive window, and threw it open.
          "You, boy!" he shouted at a passing Demidevimon, "What day is it?"
          "Day, guv? It's Christmas day!"
          Ken rushed out of his base. He threw off his cape, triangular and awkward leaving on the breeze, and ran over a green field, over a green hill, and followed a path, to a hovel.
          A hovel with a green door, and a golden knob in the centre of it.
          He rapped on the door, urgently.
          "Now, now, what's all this kerfuffle..." Wormon opened the door. "Ken?"
          Ken picked up Wormon, and hugged him tightly, swinging him 'round.
          "Yes, Wormon! Ken! Merry Christmas, Wormon, merry Christmas!"

Herr Mullen sat back. "Well?"
          "...It's Charles Dickens's A Christmas Carol."
          "And?"
          "You've just nicked his idea."
          "I have not! No, I applied Digimon to it!"
          "So not only is it an idea that's already been cliched to the point that someone could recite it, it's an that someone else wrote with characters someone else created!"
          "Well, I thought Christmas Carol's a classic, so it's guaranteed at least a nine on the Soni Scale!"
          "It isn't! It's rubbish! It doesn't even have any sex in it!"
          Herr Mullen sat back, and tried to think of another idea.
          "We've got to think of a good idea. We have to get at least a nine to our names on the Soni Scale. Then we'll become kings! Kings like Lord Archive and Red Rover!"
          "How about a bit characters' party?"
          "Bit characters' party?"
          "You know; characters no-one cares about. Miyako's sisters, Taichi's parents, that boy who threw the jam doughnuts into the swimming pool off screen in one episode. Get them altogether at a party!"
          Herr Mullen's brow furrowed. He took another swig of brandy.
          "No, even with alcohol that's a rubbish idea."
          "Fine. What else could we write?"
          Herr Mullen thought a little.
          "I think it's about time Daisuke got drunk."
          He began to type.

Daisuke looked onward. It hurt. It hurt horribly, like an incompetent work-experience boy from the local secondary school giving acupuncture whilst the boss was unavailable. It hurt like the needle missing the Huatuo Jia point and piercing a lung. It hurt like the needle hitting a nerve directly.
          Emotionally, anyway.
          Watching Hikari with him.
          Merry Christmas, indeed!
          There was tensile hanging about the walls, an illuminated Christmas tree, underneath which lay the presents the Ichijojis had bought each other, wrapped with pretty bows.
          Bah, humbug.
          Daisuke got up, and ignored the kissing couple, under the mistletoe. He poured himself some sake, and downed it in one. He poured himself another, and another.
          Taichi looked over at the wretched soul.
          "He's destroying himself with this."
          "Hmm," Jyou agreed.
          "He should get over it. Get himself a new girl."
          "That or Ken."
          "Ken?"
          "Yeah, Ken. He's fancied the fellow for months."
          "He's gay?"
          "Yup."
          Taichi blinked. "Wow. Looks like this one's an erotic thriller."
          Jyou looked at him. "What are you talking about?"
          Taichi grabbed at his head. "I... don't know."
          Kushiro walked over. He'd get one of them, at least.
          "Hey, Mimi, Sora."
          The girls looked at him.
          "Why are you wearing a bandanna with some white berries hanging over your head?"
          Kushiro pointed. "Daisuke told me no girl could turn down a kiss underneath the mistletoe." The girls looked at the hopelessly drinking boy in the corner. "It looks to work." He pointed to the helplessly kissing couple near the tree. "But will it for me?"
          Kushiro grinned cheerily.
          The girls just looked at him. Then, Mimi gave him a kiss.
          "I say. Blimey."
          "It does work!"
          Let's hope so, thought Ken, as he walked over to the corner. Let's hope it works for me.
          "Ken! Come an', come an' have a drink wi' me. I've got sake!"

Daisuke woke up. He felt something behind him. Something draped over him. An arm. Something poking him. Oh, god.
          He turned 'round.
          "Daisuke, you're awake."

Ken cried into his pillow. How could he? How could Daisuke?
          "How could he run off with Yamato?"

Herr Mullen ripped the paper out of the typewriter. "It's no good!" He said. "Damn Christmas! Damn it, humbug it! We'll never get a nine, Jyou, never, ever, ever!"
          He sat, in a huff, arms folded. He looked like an angry dough ball that would be well dressed if it's clothes weren't stained.
          "I know what'll cheer you up." Said Jyou. "Merry Christmas!"
          He gave Herr Mullen a brightly coloured package.
          "A present! For me?" Herr Mullen grabbed it, and ripped it open. He looked at the book.

How To Write Fanfiction

          His eyes welled with tears. "Jyou," This is the best present I've ever had!"
          And it was the best Christmas, too.