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The mistake was assuming Rocket would respect Christmas.
Chad realized it the exact second he plugged in the lights.
“Is it… blinking?” Robert asked from the couch.
“It’s the classic mode,” Chad replied proudly. “Traditional. Calm.”
Rocket, sitting in front of the tree, did not blink.
Did not breathe.
Did not move.
He simply stared as the lights softly changed brightness.
Blink.
Rocket’s pupils widened.
“Oh no,” Robert murmured. “That’s his I’m about to ruin something face.”
“Rocket,” Chad warned. “No.”
Rocket attacked.
He launched himself at the lowest branch, making the entire tree wobble dangerously.
“ROCKET!” they shouted together.
The cat hung there like a living ornament, paws wrapped around a branch, tail tangled in silver tinsel.
“Don’t move,” Robert said. “If you don’t move, maybe it survives.”
Rocket moved.
A red ornament fell and rolled across the floor.
Rocket chased it.
“NOT THAT ONE!” Chad lunged, but Rocket was faster.
CRASH.
The ornament shattered.
Silence.
Rocket stared at the pieces.
Then at Chad.
“…that was glass,” Chad said faintly.
Rocket meowed.
Gravity’s fault.
Robert knelt to pick up the shards.
“It’s okay,” he said gently. “No one’s hurt.”
Rocket decided this was the perfect moment to climb.
Higher.
The tree leaned.
“ROCKET, GET DOWN,” Chad ordered.
Rocket reached the top.
Sat down.
Right under the star.
“…He’s posing,” Robert whispered.
Rocket lifted his chin proudly.
The star tilted.
“No,” Chad said.
The tree fell.
Not completely.
It ended up half-collapsed against the wall, crooked, lights still on, ornaments hanging at impossible angles.
Rocket jumped down.
Unharmed.
Victorious.
“He just destroyed Christmas,” Robert said.
“He murdered it,” Chad corrected.
Rocket walked toward them… with the star still hooked on his tail.
“Rocket,” Robert pointed. “You’re carrying… that.”
Rocket shook.
The star flew off and landed on the couch.
“Perfect,” Chad sighed. “Crooked tree. Broken ornaments. Christmas spirit dead.”
Rocket jumped onto the couch, curled up between them, and purred.
“Look at him,” Robert said, giving up. “He thinks he won.”
Chad sighed… then laughed.
“You know what?” he said. “He did.”
Robert leaned in and kissed him.
“Alternative Christmas.”
Rocket stretched, satisfied.
The tree stayed crooked.
The lights kept blinking.
The three of them stayed on the couch.
And Rocket, undisputed king of Christmas, fell asleep beneath his conquered tree.