plotdesigner

The Kefka Who Stole Christmas

Rated: PG (brief mentions of drug use and violence)
Fandom: FFVI
Summary: Kefka tries to steal Christmas a la the Grinch.
Word Count: 1099

Many players of FF liked Christmas a lot
but Kefka, who lived in his tower, did NOT!

He hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season!
Please don’t ask why, we’re not sure of the reason.
It could be his frilly clown collar’s too tight,
or maybe he hit his head in a fight,
but the reason PCs found most likely of all
is because he was missing any heart at all!
But whatever the reason, collar or heart,
he spent Christmas Eve hating those who pressed START.
Glaring down face twisted with a foul clownish sneer
at the players and those they controlled who dared near.

“They’re equipping their espers!” he said with a frown.
“They’re putting on ribbons! I can’t keep them down!
Why do we even have Christmas! This isn’t an Earth!
I’m the god, not Jesus! Why should he spread mirth?”
Then he growled, with his spindly fingers now drumming,
“I must find some way to stop Christmas from coming!”

For very soon, he knew, gamer girls and boys
would make his game a part of their toys.
And then! Oh, the noise! Noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!
He hated that! The ambient music that became noise!
Then the players would pause the game to go feast!
Then they’d feast! Feast! Feast! Feast! Feast!
He’d be stuck paused, unstandable in the least!

And THEN! They’d do the thing he’d hate most of all!
Many of those gamers, the tall and the small,
would sit with their friends with tinny game sounds ringing
and, at the opera, would join in Celes’s singing!
And they’d sing! Sing! Sing! Sing! Sing!
And the more Kefka thought of the friends-Celes-Sing
the more he found himself hating the whole thing!
“Why, since 1994 I’ve put up with it now!
“I must stop Christmas from coming! But how?”

And he got an idea!
An awful idea!
A spiffy, fantabulous, awful idea!

“I know just what I’ll do!” Kefka laughed from his throat
and Amano’d up a Santa Clause hat and coat.
And he cackled and clucked, “What a clever Kefka trick!
“With this scarlet number, I’ll mimic St. Nick!”
“Now I need a reindeer…” and Kefka looked around.
but reindeers knew how not to be found.
Did that stop Kefka? Nope! He just said,
“If I can’t find a reindeer, I’ll make one instead!”
He summoned boss Atma, got permission, grabbed thread,
and surgically put giant horns on her head.

Then he loaded up a cart with sacks and bags
and Atma joined him in a large coat of rags
then Kefka went “fly!” and his cart sailed on town
to where gamers everywhere slept in their town.

All the windows were dark. Quiet snow filled the air.
It was 7 AM and no one was aware
when Kefka Claus’s cart snuck into the square.
“This is stop number one!” the old Kefka Claus hissed
and flew up to the rooftop, bags in his fists.

He went down the chimney, not a tight pinch
for Kefka was underweight, unlike the Grinch.
He didn’t get stuck, although he got bored, it’s true
but then he fell out the fireplace flue
and saw gamer savecards all hung in a row.
“These saves,” Kefka cackled, “are the first things to go!”

Then he snuck and he slithered with grin most unpleasant
around the whole room and took every present!
Gauntlets! Haste Shoes! Hi-potions! Ethers!
Megaelixers! Shields! Phoenix feathers!
He stuffed them in bags, and then, super nimbly,
punted all bags, one by one, up the chimney!

Then he went to the fridge. He took all the feast!
He took all the pocky! And Gau’s dried meats!
He cleaned out the freezer like a speed demon’s dream!
To make matters worse, he ate the ice cream!

And he punted food out as quick as can be.
“Now that that’s over, I’ll stuff up the tree!”
Kefka grabbed up the tree and started to heave
when he heard a sound like sword against sheathe.
He turned around fast, barely dodging a stab.
It was Celes! Wearing pajamas most fab!
He’d been caught by the general he considered a daughter
away from her game to get a drink of water.
“Kefka, are you drunk? What the hell are you wearing?
You better explain before I start swearing.”

“Uh, Celes,” the fake Santa Claus lied,
“There’s a light on this tree that won’t light on one side.”

“Stop lying! I know the sound of your crap.
Tell me the truth. I’m no gullible sap.
Are you ruining Christmas? You better not lie.
Or I’ll take out my dagger and poke out your eye.”

“I’m damn sick of Christmas! This is our world, not theirs!
I don’t want to celebrate the weird days of the players!
They all call me crazy! And they want me dead!
They say that I’m evil since I’m wrong in the head!
I can take evil. That’s my major gig.
But mixing that up with my crazy makes me wig.
The two are separate. The one is a choice:
a villain’s glee at an agonized voice.
I never decided I wanted mood swings
or the nihilistic depression that having them brings.
I like being a jerk. Leave my brain out of it.
Since they can’t shut that up, I’ll ruin their shit.”

Celes shrugged. “I understand how you feel.
But I’m still a hero. Stop the whole thieving spiel.
Leave the gamers their stuff; go give Kuja a thong.
Besides, I’ve seen Locke; you’re doing theft wrong.”

Kefka wilted at that, but Celes had a point.
So he traded all of the save games for a joint.
Lighting up with Atma, he flew on back home,
pondering where he should let his frustration roam.

“Wait a minute,” he said, “Light of Judgement, come here!”
He prepared his weapon, face lit up with a sneer.
“I don’t have to steal. I’m a god who destroys!
I can ruin their thing with my own magic toys!
Soon, I’ll have the screams for which I’ve yearned!”

“Stop it, Kefka!” a voice yelled. Kefka turned.
It was Celes now armed and prepped for boss fight.
“Can we stop all the fighting at least for one night?
We used to be friendly. The game isn’t playing.
Come down to the house where we’re all staying.
Relax and tomorrow we’ll get back to the plot.
This holiday’s stupid. I’d rather just kill you.
But Christmas is Christmas; peace is part of the milieu.”

“Why not?” Kefka asked, and followed Chere to the lunch.
(And, for Cyan’s health, he wasn’t let near the punch.)