Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Poppa settled down by the warm amber glow of the sunset, breathing in the cool evening air and the thick perfume of honeysuckle. It was Christmas Eve. Poppa didn’t know too much about human holidays but he always did appreciate Christmas. The rolling stock of the yard would always give gifts and spend time together; it was Poppa’s favourite time of year.
As he looked up at the dimly lit sky, a single snowflake danced onto his nose and melted. Soon the sky was a ballroom of snowflakes, all of them waltzing in the cold winter air. He chuckled to himself as he looked around. The Rockies were all asleep, but where were Flat-Top and Dustin? Surely they would’ve come back by now, right?

A sudden screech alerted him. It was Rusty! He had been pulling Flat-Top and Dustin. Why were they in such a rush? They all seemed rather ruffled and disturbed, he wondered why...
“Poppa! POPPA!”
Rusty whizzed over to him with an expression of pure fear
“What’s wrong Rusty? Did something happen…”
Flat-Top barged into Rusty and blurted out
“WE FUCKING KILLED SANTA CLAUS!”

“...WHAT!?”
Dustin barged into them both, panting
“No no no! Santa’s fine, just in a coma. Look!”
Santa had been inside the hopper all along. His limp body flopped onto the ground as Dustin tipped him out. Poppa observed the body as carefully as he could.
The side of his head seemed badly bruised, probably a nasty concussion.
“How did this happen?”
Flat-Top seemed to step back and blush.
“Flat-Top? Did you do something?”
Poppa bellowed as he glared right into Flat-Top’s stupid fucking eyes. The little bitch had probably done it on purpose.
“I-I...let me explain.”
Flat-Top swallowed and sat down, wiping away the train-sweat from his brow.
“Ok ok, hear me out.
I saw something flying over the yard and I got, like, really scared. I thought it could’ve been Owlectra or something, I didn’t want bad luck on Christmas Eve! So, I-I…
I threw one of my bricks at it.”

Poppa couldn’t believe his ears. His own brick truck had nearly murdered Santa himself!? What a disappointment, he should’ve seen this coming. Flat-Top had always been the most incompetent out of the freight but he was never meant to stoop THIS LOW!
“You did what!? You shot down Santa’s sleigh!?”
Flat-Top seemed even more embarrassed now.
“Y-Yeah, I did…Now what?”
“WHO THE FUCK IS SUPPOSED TO DELIVER THE PRESENTS NOW? HUH!?”
“Oh yeah, that, hah…”

Steam was blowing out of Poppa’s ears, literally. He could’ve exploded if it weren’t for the fact that he had the freight to pull. Why did all the freight have to be such dumbasses? Well, except CB, where was CB anyway…
Dustin spoke up; there had been an awkward silence while Poppa was thinking.
“Hey! Maybe we could deliver the presents while Santa recovers, Rusty?”
Rusty looked at Dustin with a grimace and huffed
“What, you want ME to pull you so you can deliver the presents? No way. Nope! I ain’t doing that, not in a million years. I’m sick of your shit Flat-Top.”
And just like that, Rusty rolled off and out of the yard angrily to go find Pearl.
A loud shriek of laughter erupted from the corner of the yard and, out of the darkness, rolled CB. He had been observing the whole conversation from the shadows. He had a stupid grin on his face as he snickered at them
“Well I would just love to help deliver these presents but it seems like nobody can pull us! Poppa won’t have the strength and Rusty’s refused, so now what?”

CB was right, although they didn’t want to admit it.

Dustin looked up at his brother Flat-Top and tugged his arm gently, a look of despair on his face as he whispered
“W-What are we going to do? Surely we can’t carry all those presents, we don’t have the Christmas magic!”

Christmas magic...Flat-Top had an idea.
He rolled over to Santa and checked the pockets of his red suit. A wallet, set of keys and...what’s this? A pocket-sized pod of something which resembled iridescent sand. He picked it up and slammed it onto the hard tracks, smashing it instantly.
The sand seemed to morph into clouds of dazzling smoke, which swirled around Flat-Top and made him look new and shiny.
“Flat-Top! You’re glowing like a star!”
So he was! Glowing like the Starlight Express themself!
Poppa couldn’t believe his eyes; he was lost for words at the sight of Flat-Top without those flashy tattoos.
“I-Is this Santa’s magic? Am I magic now? CAN I DO MAGIC!?”
“Flat-Top, look!”
Dustin hastily pointed at the brick truck’s pet brick, which sat on his head and seemed to be shining the brightest. Flat-Top took the brick off his head.
Another brick replaced it.
Flat-Top had an infinite supply of bricks.

CB had still been observing from a short distance away but now he had an idea. A great idea, in fact. Neither Flat-Top nor Dustin had enough space to carry all those presents, but Flat-Top did have his new infinite supply of bricks. Perhaps…
“Flat-Top, Dustin, how about we go and look for an engine to pull us? I’m sure someone will be willing, and with your magic, we might be able to do the impossible.”
CB murmured slyly as he motioned towards a nearby shed. The two brothers looked at each other, shrugged and started to roll towards the shed.
CB was about to follow them until Poppa tapped him on the shoulder.
“CB, son, let me tell you something before you go.”
Poppa picked up a nearby empty soda can and gripped it in his hand
“You see this can? This is your neck. If you even dare to fuck this up then...”
He crushed the can in his fist.
CB gulped.

Dustin had never been to this side of the yard before, it had always seemed frightening to him. It was getting rather dark and they had to find a willing engine to pull the 3 trucks and fast.
CB suddenly stopped in front of them, a grin still plastered on his evil face. He looked up at Flat-Top and Dustin and chuckled
“Did you guys really think we would be able to carry all those presents? You idiots. That’s not what I was thinking, I have...another idea. Flat-Top, you now have an infinite supply of those bricks, right? Perhaps we could...play a little game.”
Flat-Top looked dumbfounded at the brake truck and mumbled back
“Well, what do you think we could do then?”
CB let out a little giggle and yelled

“WE COULD THROW BRICKS AT CHILDREN! HAHAHA!”

Dustin felt his stomach turn at that thought. Nope. Flat-Top wasn’t going to agree with this, r-right?
He was wrong.
Flat-Top let out a wheezy laugh with CB
“That sounds brilliant! Yeah, let’s do that! C’mon Dustin, you can help!”
“NO! I DON’T WANT TO!”
“Don’t be such a wuss, come and help us! You’re my brother, right?”

Dustin felt torn. He really loved his brother but at the same time, he didn’t really want to throw bricks at children, especially on Christmas Eve of all days.
“...”
“Well, Dustin? You coming or not?”
“Ok, OK! I’ll come.”
“Great! Now we just need to find an engine.”
CB pondered for a moment before perking up
“How about Greaseball? He’s strong, I’m sure he would be willing to help. He lives around here, somewhere...THERE! Let’s go!”
They headed in the direction of where Greaseball usually slept. Hopefully, he would be willing to pull them, if not, then CB had some cash to bribe him with.
CB rolled up to the shed’s doors and used his tiny twig arms to fling them open. Inside was Greaseball...and Dinah. CB knew he had probably interrupted something but he didn’t really care.
“HEY, YA LITTLE BITCH! HELP US THROW BRICKS AT CHILDREN!”
“Caboose!? W-What are you doing here?!”
“DOESN’T MATTER, GET OUT HERE!”

After explaining to Greaseball what their plan was, he seemed rather displeased.
“Really? I’m not going to do this in the middle of the night you fucking lunatic.”
“We can pay you.”
Greaseball’s eyes lit up and he stuttered out
“U-UH, ONE DOLLAR FOR ONE MILE!”
“Good for me, here’s $50.”
Caboose shoved the money into Greaseball’s sweaty palms. They all coupled up and started to travel. They proceeded north out of the Apollo Victorian and started down the mainline. Greaseball’s engine hummed as they dashed through the night, as Greaseball rocketed up the northern mainline as they passed the state line into Indiana. CB, Flat-Top, and Dustin started to plan their next moves.
“So, where are we going to throw bricks at first? Isn’t there a neighbourhood coming up? We could start there.”
“Nice idea CB, I’ve got my throwing arm ready. Dustin?”
“Yes, I’m ready.”
“Ok, I can see some houses coming up. 3, 2, 1...THROW!”
As Greaseball thundered through the neighbourhood, Flat-tops arm went off like a rocket, throwing hundreds of bricks in mere seconds. As Greaseball blasted his horn, they were already out of the town. Everyone was truly speechless.
“What… the actual… fuck.”
Dustin murmured. However, they didn’t have much time to think as Greaseball screeched to a halt.
“Time’s up boys. I’ve reached 50 miles, gotta leave now. See ya!”
CB’s face went pale as his voice cracked
“W-WHAT! NO! PLEASE STAY, PLEASE!”
Greaseball had a smug smirk on his face.
“I’ll do anything, just please stay!”
Greaseball just looked down at the little clown gremlin and chuckled before turning around and speeding off (Making sure the snow hit CB’s ugly face) while yelling
“THIS IS WHAT YOU GET FOR THAT FUCKING STUNT YOU PULLED IN THE DOWNHILL FINAL!”

Chapter Text

A soft spray of snow was falling on the trucks as they looked at Greaseball’s silhouette fade into the distance. Flat-Top suddenly shouted
“WHAT THE HECK ARE WE SUPPOSED TO DO NOW!?”
CB responded with a monotone voice
“We’re stuck here I guess, oh well.”
“OH WELL!? WE COULD GET SNOWED IN! W-We gotta find someone to help, surely there’s someone out there who could help us, right…?”

In the desolate dark night, the storm raged on getting worse by the minute. That was when Flat-Top looked into the small distance ahead of him. There was a light, and the sound of what sounded to be a steam train, and as it got close Flat-Top’s eyes widened with fear. The massive stroke as 8 drive wheels gripped the rails, rushing towards the trio with the power of an avalanche. Its whistle blew into the night like a siren screaming out towards the sea.
“WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK IS THAT!?”
Flat-Top squeaked as the dark shape came closer by the second. CB screeched like a child and yelped
“NEVER MIND THAT, JUST RUN ALREADY!”
Dustin had already started to fumble away, crying out
“I’M TOO YOUNG TO DIE!”
Flat-Top had just started to follow his younger brother while CB stood there like a deer in the headlights. He squinted at the shape, what was that…

“I-Is that, t-the…
THE POLAR EXPRESS!?”
Dustin fell over like the clumsy truck he was and looked over at the shadow, a look of pure confusion on his face.
Obviously, Flat-Top was still stumbling away.
The dark shape came closer to CB and now he could make out some more details. Definitely a steam engine, huge, scary…
WHY IS IT GETTING SO CLOSE?
Now the engine was just inches away from his face. Just him and the Polar Express, staring at him.
CB had already closed his eyes in fear, but now he opened them just a crack. A blinding light shot through his retinas and he let out a screech of fear. The number...1225.
“AAAAAAHHH GET AWAY GET AWAY GET AWAY-”
CB hollered out as he waved his arms like the madman he was.
Then the shadow spoke.
“CB, it’s me! Shut the fuck up! It’s me, Greg!”

Silence. Then the 3 of them shrieked out.

“GREG!?”
It was fucking Greg all along! Why hadn’t CB realized sooner?!
Greg sat there, bewildered by what he just saw.

Flat-Top had already fallen over by now, so he rolled over in the thick snow and hollered
“Greg!? What are you doing here?”
Dustin suddenly interrupted him
“Doesn’t matter, can you help us, Greg? We need to...throw bricks at children...across the world.”
Greg looked down at his hands before answering
“Sure, sure. Dunno if I’ll have the strength but...”
“It’s ok Greg! Flat-Top has some weird magic dust on him, perhaps he could share some with you?”
CB looked up at Greg with a grin while murmuring
“And, you’ll be able to brag about it to Greaseball. How about that?”
Greg seemed a little hesitant about this whole ordeal. However when CB mentioned Greaseball…
“OK! I WILL FUCKING DO IT!”
Greg practically slammed into the small train, making the three cars jolt back. To Greg, it didn’t matter. As he looked back at CB he reminded him
“Oh yeah, since I’m a steamer I’m not allowed on the mainline. You better keep a fuckin’ eye on that traffic using that funky little radio of yours, got it?”
“Got it! I’ll keep an eye.”
Would they even need to do this? what about the Christmas magic dust stuff? They just had to find out.

With two blasts of his whistle, Greg rushed through Fort Wayne as Flat-Top threw bricks in all directions. As the train rushed through the station something felt weird, Greg was going over his top speed and his wheels were producing silver and gold embers as time started to slow for the 4 of them.
As they rushed onwards cities flashed by before their eyes, until the stopped and looked around.

They all lost their shit because they were in El Quique, Argentina.
“UH, GREG? WHERE ARE WE?”
Dustin had to speak loudly for Greg to hear him.
“Oh, uh, I think we’re in Argentina? I don’t fucking know.”
CB fucking screamed
“ARGENFUCKINGTINA!? GREG WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK, I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU RIGHT NOW.”
Flat-Top wasn’t paying attention as per usual, he was just enjoying throwing bricks at innocent Argentinian children.
From the houses, they could all hear the high-pitched squeals of fear.
“¡Mami ayuda a un tren a tirarnos piedras!” (“mommy help a train is throwing rocks at us!”)
“¡EL CAOS DE LADRILLO DEBE TERMINAR!” (“THE BRICK CHAOS MUST END!”)
“¿Está Ferro el tren de vapor cuando lo necesitas?” (“Where is Ferro the steam train when you need him?”)

After about 10 minutes, a group of the locals started getting angry. CB noticed this, of course
“Hey Greg, I think we might get chased out. We should go- OW! One of them threw a brick at me!”
“Ok then, let’s go- AH FUCK! THEY’VE ALL GOT OUR BRICKS!”
Dustin cried out for them to leave, but they had only one way to go:
The ocean.
Greg pushed off with his skates and they sped towards the rugged coast. The locals were following them still, throwing THEIR OWN bricks right back at them. Flat-Top didn’t mind though, he just kept throwing his own bricks.
The people of El Quique weren’t gonna get thrown around by this brick truck, however, instead, some of them picked up the bricks and started to make a stock-pile. They were going to use them to repair houses!
Flat-Top was furious about this but it was too late now. The gang were speeding towards the ocean at break-neck speed so he didn’t exactly have time to be angry.
“LOOK OUT!”
Whoosh
Just like that, they were on top of the water. The magical Christmas dust had now been formed into tracks which ran straight across the ocean.
Well, this was a little unexpected.

“What the- WOAH!”
CB was dazzled by the brilliant light of the tracks. He didn’t even care where they ended up, just as long as there were houses and, most importantly, children to throw bricks at.
Greg looked ahead as the tracks went south. He opened up his throttle to the max and he tore down these rails that lead them across the sea. The massive waves didn’t stop them, as the wave’s curl let the train go right through the heart of the waves itself. after what felt like an hour (that was really 5 minutes), they saw lights in the distance CB check his radio and shouted to the rest of the train “Well boys, welcome the land down under, AUSTRALIA!”

Flat-Top looked around at the new scenery and mumbled to himself
“Australia...Isn’t that in Canada or something?”
Dustin had to correct him, like always
“No no, it’s a HUGE island near Indonesia, it’s super close to New Zealand- nevermind, you wouldn’t know where that is. Wait, DID WE FORGET NEW ZEALAND!?”
“Was that the island we just went past? I threw a shit ton of bricks there!”
CB rolled his eyes at Flat-Top and muttered
“Yes, we went past there. It doesn’t matter now, we’re in Australia. Let’s go hurt some kids!”
“HECK YEAH!”
“HECK YEAH!”
“HECK FUCKIN’ YEAH!”
CB looked over the shoulders of Dustin and Flat-Top and screeched
“YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO GREG, FLOOR IT!”
Instantly they were racing through the Australian suburbia. Flat-Top and Dustin were hammering down windows with bricks, over and over.

And this continued for every town, city, village, and household throughout the world.
In Japan, they had a short race with a few of the Japanese bullet trains. Obviously Greg won but it was pretty close. In Russia, they came across Turnov. In Germany, they had small-talk with Ruhrgold. Then in the UK, they came across a twiggy-looking Class 800 who seemed to be crying, and some old man writing a musical.
Through the channel tunnel they darted. In France, they stopped for a moment to observe Bobo and Coco fighting over who would represent France in next year’s great race. Through the Alps, they arrived in Italy. Flat-Top accidentally threw a brick at Espresso, oh well. They eventually made it to Africa.

Chapter Text

Greg and the train charged through the city of Cairo causing an extensive amount of damage to the windows in the dense city and before long they were out in the desert
They continued onwards, through the thick Congo rainforest and the looming hills of Kenya. They ran into a pack of laughing hyenas which freaked out Dustin quite a bit. They arrived in Cape Town and were met with another ocean, rough and dangerous.
Greg peered at the choppy waves
“Well, I wonder where that’ll take us. Let’s go, team.”
He sped into the freezing water and another magical track appeared before them, this time making a sharp detour to the right.
CB was rather curious where this track would take them. Perhaps back to Apollo Victoria? Although he was having fun, it sure was tiring to throw bricks at little kids. His arm was beginning to get sore…
They charged right up the Atlantic coast, throwing more bricks at the children of the Southern states. They even managed to hit the duck with orange hair in the white house.

The zoomed through Newark and then they stopped in front of a tunnel.
“C’mon Greg, why’d you stop?”
Dustin questioned Greg as he looked through the tunnel. Greg had stopped right in front of it and had a hesitant look on his face.
“I-I don’t know about this. Steam trains are banned in New York, I don’t want to get arrested…”
CB tutted
“You’re afraid of that? Dude, the time has slowed down, the cops can’t catch ya. Anyway, I know how to not get arrested. Trust me, Greg, you’ll be alright.”
However much to Flat-Tops horror, time was moving at normal speed again. He looked behind the train and saw something, the 3 AM Express to New York was fast approaching. “GREG LOOK BEHIND YOU!”
The brick truck screamed with fear as the train gained on them.
“OH FUCK- HOLD ON!”
Greg sprinted through the tunnel, as fast as he could go. His smoke made it seem like the tunnel had caught fire, causing the 3 AM Express to stop.
Greg knew he would be in big trouble for this, so he went as fast as he possibly could.
In an instant, they were overwhelmed by a sudden flurry of lights, but it was soon over as they entered another tunnel. As Greg screamed to a halt in Sunnyside yard and he took in the sights. Not much, except a shit-ton of trains sleeping.
It was like a minefield: one sudden noise and all the trains could wake up. That would NOT be good.
Greg turned around and shushed the train as they silently weaved through the trains.
However, CB couldn’t help but notice a certain someone amidst the engines. He whispered to himself
“Is that Electra?”
It sure was, mohawk and all. CB could feel a burning rage inside of him swell as he looked at the engine. He couldn’t help but-
“CB, NO!”
Dustin hissed but it was too late.
CB had thrown a brick at Electra’s head.
But the brick, in fact, did not hit Electra. CB’s body turned to ice as it whizzed right over his stupid fucking mohawk and directly into the head of an Amtrak Passenger engine named Zach.
“Ow, MOTHERFUCKER!”
This wouldn’t be good.

Like bees being angered, every train in the yard rose up and glared at the gang. Zach had a look of pure fury in his eyes that CB couldn’t shake off. Finally, Electra himself rose up glamourously and ruffled his hair in frustration.
But the most furious engine of all had to be Greg. Embers rose from his funnel and his eyes turned the same colour of his firebox’s glow: a hot searing red.
“CB, WHAT THE FUCK IS YOUR PROBLEM!?”
“HIS GAY ENERGY MADE ME ANGRY!”

Electra’s eyes twitched as he gave CB the stare of death. They should probably go.
“GREG, FLOOR IT!”
Dustin yelled as they sped off and away from the hordes of grumpy trains. They thought it was over, they thought they were safe.
They were wrong.
Greg might have been fast, but…
Electra was faster.
CB looked over his shoulder to see the blue and red blur of Electra racing towards them
“OH SHIT OH FUCK OH- GREG HE’S AFTER US!”
“FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK- THIS WAY!”
Greg made a sharp turn and shot off towards the NYC subway.
He was now underground, speeding past station after station. Every time CB looked behind all he could see was Electra inching closer and closer.
“GREG WE GOTTA HURRY UP-”
“I KNOW CB JUST HANG IN THERE.”
Greg zoomed across the subway like a rocket, the freight being dragged behind as the wind whooshed past them. Soon they weren’t even in the subway anymore, instead, they were on the elevated line.
The towering buildings seemed to fly by, shrinking in size gradually until they were houses.
“I-I think we’ve lost him-”
Electra interrupted CB
“I’M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU CB! I’M GOING TO FEED YOU TO MY COMPONENTS!”
“NOPE! ELECTRA’S STILL HERE!”
While CB was focused on the angry mohawked train, Greg had worse problems to deal with. There was a really sharp curve up ahead and Greg couldn’t slow down in time, so he sped up and felt the cold chill of adrenaline enter him. He ignored the feeble cries from Dustin and Flat-Top and as he entered the curve, he flipped a switch over himself sending half of his tender and himself onto the inside track while the rest of the train was on the outside track. Everyone screamed in fear and horror.
Electra howled out
“NANI!? MULTI-TRACK-DRIFTING?!”
However, Electra was so distracted that he wasn’t paying attention and flew right of the line and into the city sewage management center, covering the proud engine in shit. Literal shit.

As they headed into Boston, all the stars aglow, it seemed that all the bricks had been thrown. Every house in every town, city and village had been bricked. Greg was proud of his little team of freight. CB had been there to keep an eye on things, Flat-Top used his new magic to help them travel across the world and Dustin stopped everyone from beating the shit out of each other. A well-rounded group.
They decided to celebrate with a drink, but Flat-Top seemed a little...different.
Dustin looked over at his brother and asked him
“Hey, are you ok? You seem a little...sad.”
“I-It’s just, there’s a kid outside. He seems really upset. Y’know, we did a lot of mean things today and it was fun, but I can’t help but feel a little bit bad.”
He pulled out a brick (and a sharpie he carries around at all times) and drew an endearing smiley face on the brick.
He skated outside to where the kid sat, and gently placed down the smiling brick. The kid now had his own little friend.
As Flat-Top came back inside the bar, Dustin cooed
“Awee! That’s so sweet!”
Meanwhile, Greg was smiling
“How rare, the prick did something nice for once. Good on ya, mate.”
CB scoffed at this ‘nice’ behaviour.
Weird.
Flat-Top was weird.
Flat-Top looked down at his hands and smiled.
He had a warm...fuzzy feeling in his chest.
His head felt a little different too, hold on…
Attached to where his pet brick would be was a letter in a fancy envelope, To, Greg, CB, Dustin, And Flat-Top!
“Hey, guys! I got a letter, cool!”
He opened up the wax stamp and read the letter aloud.
“Dear Greg, CB, Dustin and Flat-Top
Thanks to you, Santa has been brought out of his coma because you have all learnt the true meaning of Christmas!
You have 20 minutes before the magic wears off.
Sincerely, Mrs Clause.
“FUCK!”

Greg yeeted his beer against the window, breaking both the window AND the beer.
“WE GOTTA GET BACK RIGHT FUCKING N O W”
The gang dashed out of the bar (through the window) and immediately stumbled away, all of them saying very naughty words which will be left up to interpretation.
It had only been 5 minutes and they had already left Boston, the grasses become wind-bent as they skedaddled past.
Flat-Top threw as many bricks as he could before his infinite brick privileges were revoked.
Around 10 minutes later they could all see the magical aura fading away and Greg slowing down
“No! We’re not even there yet! Dammit!”
Greg couldn’t talk, he was too busy whistling his butt off in fear. After 15 minutes the train wasn’t too far from the yard. As they screamed down the tracks, finally the magic wore off. They were all rather upset but it was ok as they were only five minutes from the yard. And shortly after, they arrived tired and weary. Poppa and Rusty ran out to the commotion to see the small train had made it home safely.

Chapter Text

While they had gone, Poppa and Belle had been tending to Santa. It seemed like he would be in a coma for a long while until he suddenly woke up, it was rather strange.
As the train pulled into the yard all of the rolling stock came and cheered the heroes, they couldn’t believe that they had supposedly delivered presents all night!
Poppa rolled over to Flat-Top
“My boy, I’m so proud! I can’t believe you delivered all those presents in ONE night!”
Greg looked over at the older steamer and nonchalantly said
“Deliver presents? We were meant to do that? We just threw bricks at everyone.”

The yard went silent.

It was silent for a full 3 minutes until the blaring voice of Control rattled the yard
“MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE! BREAKING NEWS, BREAKING NEWS! A STEAM TRAIN, CARRYING A HOPPER, BRICK TRUCK AND CABOOSE HAS BEEN SPOTTED WORLDWIDE. WITNESSES REPORT THAT THE BRICK TRUCK WAS ‘THROWING BRICKS’ AT CHILDREN THROUGH THEIR WINDOWS. LUCKILY, NOBODY HAS BEEN BADLY HURT. IN FACT, THE UN HAS ANNOUNCED THAT THEY WILL BE USING LEFTOVER BRICKS TO BUILD NEW HOUSES FOR THE HOMELESS. ENJOY THE REST OF THE WEEK OFF, EVERYBODY!”

The yard remained silent.
Suddenly, Santa got up from his resting place beside Belle and fumbled over to the team.
“You heroes saved Christmas! I will be eternally thankful!”
“...What?”
The yard all said at once.
“You four will be put at the top of my nice list for what you have all done!”
Greg and Dustin’s faces all lit up with joy.
“W-We actually saved Christmas! Oh my gosh! We saved Christmas!, HELL FUCKING YES!” Greg Screamed!
Dustin actually started crying tears of joy as they all hugged each other and congratulated each other. Poppa looked quite happy too, even if they did throw bricks at little kids.
Flat-Top wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows just yet though.
“My pet brick! Where is it?”
Poppa rolled behind Flat-Top and chuffed
“Here it is son, here’s your pet brick.”
Flat-Top squealed and snatched it off Poppa, placing it onto his head like a crown.
“I feel better now.”

The only one left out of the fun was CB. He had only just remembered what Poppa said to him before they left.
Poppa hadn’t finished everything yet.
Poppa skated towards CB, a look of sternness on his face. However, that quickly morphed into heartfelt warmth as he patted CB on the shoulder
“Ya did good son, ya did well…”
“You see, this is why it’s not nice to be bad. Look at all the happiness you’ve accidentally spread across the yard, how does that make you feel, huh?”
CB’s tiny brain was still processing the fact that he was now on the nice-list, so he just nodded in response.
As quickly as Santa arrived, he was about to leave. His magical sleigh was ready to go back to the North Pole. CB wasn’t done yet.
CB needed to ask Santa something before he left.
He skated towards the side of the wooden sleight and looked up at Santa, an innocent look on his face.
“S-Santa..? Am I…”

“AM I REALLY ON THE FUCKING NICE LIST NOW!?”
Santa gave him a blank stare and responded, the sun rising behind him.
“Yes, yes you are CB. This is your punishment. This is what you get for abusing my naughty/nice system for all these years and still getting presents. Fuck you CB, fuck you.”

CB would’ve strangled that old fart if he hadn’t already left while flipping the bird at CB.
And so with the anger of ten thousand suns, CB screamed. "No
, NO, ALL THE SINS AND AND BAD THINGS I HAVE DONE OVER THE YEARS. THEY DONT MATTER ANYMORE?! GOD FUCKING DAMNIT! CURSE YOU SANTA CLAUS, I WILL GET BACK ON YOU NAUGHTY LIST, JUST YOU FUCKING WAIT AND SEE YOU FAT FUCKING OLD MAN!”
Poppa heard everything that CB said to poor Santa Claus.
Poppa wasn’t going to tolerate that.
Poppa let out a mighty roar
“DAMMIT CB!”
And finally, beat the shit out of that caboose.

~The End