When I woke up, it was evening. Quite a normal occurrence, to be honest.

The reason I wanted to point it put was because the circumstances were slightly different from normal.

First, I woke up on a bed. Not the bed I made, I woke up on a very comfortable and very familiar bed instead. I also saw a ceiling over my head. It was a very familiar ceiling too, as it looked as if it would crash my skull any second because a random fly decided to take a rest on it.

I also saw a very familiar middle-aged gentleman who was dressed in baggy grey robes. This time, however, his previously handsome face was bruised and swollen all over and the room he and, by extension, myself were, was quite a bit more ruined than before. The grandfather clock I so fondly remembered, for example, had holes extended to the size of watermelons rather than apples and the wall it was leaning on was quite… well... gone.

“Why am I back here, Ralph?”, I was very certain I hadn’t died again

“Why, because it’s Christmas of course!”

“But it wasn’t last time I checked?”

“It may not be Christmas for you, but for the readers of this book it is definitely Christmas already! Well, it’s probably too late, considering the authors tendency to drag things out, though”

“I see. Is it a Christmas special episode then?”

“Yes”

“Now this, is strange. Considering that you’re a demon and are celebrating Christmas here. Wait, is that why you are beaten all over?”

“No, demons and Christmas have nothing to do with each other. The reason I am looking like this may or may not have something to do with another side chapter or two you weren’t a part of. It featured a rather crazy lady who had a knack for violence and a certain character who actually has his own series”

“Now that’s a rather blunt way of self-promotion, this author is way too shameless”

“I know right?”

“Yeah”

“Uhuh”

“….”

“….”

“….”

“….”

“So, what are we supposed to do?”

“I honestly have no idea”

“Didn’t the author give you any tips and points or something? Maybe a script?”

“Victor”

“Yes?”

“I hate to break it to you”

“What?”

“We are the script”

“Oh”

“So, naturally, the author didn’t give me any directions. It just told me to do something Christmas-like”

“I see- Wait, you just said ‘it’?”

“Yes, the author is a [redacted] who does [classified] and because [insufficient clearance level, access not granted], it is writing this story”

“Wow, that was so much information. It might have been the most eye-opening thing I have ever heard. So deep, I would definitely regret if I didn’t hear it now that I have”

“I know right? I feel so too”

“But are you sure that it’s alright to tell me all that? What if [redacted]?”

“Don’t worry, I have taken it into account”

“I see”

“But you understand now why we must do this Christmas special?”

“Yes. There’s simply too much at stake. Well, not for you, I am sure that if they come to [classified], it won’t affect you, but for me it would be fatal”

“No, if they came, even I would have no cards to play. They are simply too powerful”

“Was it that serious?”

“Indeed”

“I am actually beginning to get the chills, can you make me unhear the knowledge?”

“I am sorry, it cannot be done. But do not worry, this special is not cannon”

“How ruthless, to go that far?”

“It really is, but enough of this. How are we going to celebrate this Special?”

“Singing?”

“We are in a novel. The readers can’t hear us”

“So, dancing is put of the question too, huh”

“You get it”

“Hm… I know, how about an adventure?”

“I don’t think it would work. An adventure featuring you as a protagonist wouldn’t have a iota of Christmas spirit and an adventure featuring me as the main role, well, wouldn’t be describable with human language”

“That’s right, isn’t it? How about an adventure that features neither me nor you as the main character? How about we kidn- save some orphans and set up an adventure just for them?”

“That would be very Christmas-like indeed. Let’s do that!”

…

“Ohoho!”

“Why am I a reindeer? Let me be Santa and you be the reindeer instead!”

“If I morph you into Santa children are going to lose all trust in fairy tales. They will keep having nightmares about Santa till they are thirty”

“I am not that sinister. I can be kind too!”

“Try doing the laugh”

“Hoho. OhohoHOhHOHAHAHAHHAA. Yeah, I get where you are coming from, I’ll be the reindeer you be the old man who breaks into the private property and has a list of all the children of the planet carefully describing whether or not they have been naughty”

“Ohoho! Onwards, my faithful reindeer, hohoho!”

“Yes, ojousama!”

“Ohohoho!”

…

That night, all the people of the world were able to truly believe in miracles. And [redacted] never even got the chance to land on the [redacted], [redacted], [redacted]