A Very Sumiki's Dad Christmas

[Sumiki]

This was my Secret Santa gift to Mistah_Grammaticul. I sent it to him yesterday, but given the spirit of the story, I figured I should post it before Christmas actually arrives.
 
If you've not read the Adventures of Sumiki's Dad saga, fear not—this story can be read stand-alone as well as functioning as a kind of epilogue to previous adventures.
 

 

Sumiki’s Dad wandered the aisles of Target. He had a list, but it seemed to confuse him.
 
“Excuse me,” he asked an employee. “Are your cheese puffs machine-washable?”
 
“I … I guess so?” the lady responded, adjusting her seasonal Santa hat. “I’m not really a fan of cheese puffs, so I wouldn’t know.”
 
“Only one way to find out,” Sumiki’s Dad said, pulling a bag of cheese puffs off the shelf. “Where are your washing machines?”

*-----*-----*

 
Presently Sumiki’s Dad found himself in possession of a large bag of cheese puffs, which he held while staring longingly at the front door of the local laundromat. After going in, he wandered around for a bit until settling on a machine towards the back.
 
He popped open the door and tossed the cheese puffs in. As he was reaching up to adjust the settings, the ground began to shake. The dirty tile floor beneath his feet began to chip and crumble away.
 
Instinctively, he ran away—only to rethink this decision a second later, as he went back over the imminent void to open the washer (and thus retrieve his cheese puffs). As he did so, a flood of light burst from the hatch, swallowing him into whatever lay beyond.
 

*-----*-----*

 
“The Agori are restless, I’ll grant you,” Raanu proclaimed. “Placation is of no use. Culturally, we cannot live alongside Matoran.”
 
“We did not ask for this any more than you did,” countered Photok. “We, at least, are making good of a bad situation.”
 
“Settle down, little ones,” said King Nernst. As resident gigantic possum, King Nernst wasn’t really royalty—well, not on Spherus Magna.
 
“Nernst, your presence has been the only thing keeping the Agori from ousting us completely,” Photok said. “But we both know that you cannot protect us forever.”
 
“I will do what I can,” Nernst promised.
 
“This conference is getting us nowhere,” Raanu said, standing up. “I speak for the Agori. I cannot control them.”
 
Nernst sighed. “Very well then. We will commiserate further. Until then … ?”
 
Sumiki’s Dad flopped on the floor.
 
“Sumiki’s Dad,” Nernst said. “What brings you back?”
 
“Aardvark celery intake,” Sumiki’s Dad mumbled.
 
“This is of dire consequence,” Nernst said. The enormous possum turned to Raanu and Photok. “The borders between worlds were not as sturdy as I had once thought.”
 
“You were in charge of preventing this kind of mayhem from happening again,” Raanu said. “You made a promise, Nernst.”
 
“And that is why I am off to fix this,” Nernst said. With a flap of his great tail, he disappeared.
 
Sumiki’s Dad got to his feet. “I am mistaken,” he said. He pulled out a green sock from his pocket. “Have a cheese.”
 

*-----*-----*

 
“… and so the Matoran and the Agori are at odds,” Photok said. “Nernst has stayed to try and broker the peace, but I fear that it’s impossible.”
 
Sumiki’s Dad nodded. “There is only one person who can fix this.”
 
“Who?” Photok asked. "Nernst has found the task impossible. If not him ... who?"
 
“Santa Claus,” Sumiki’s Dad said.
 
Sumiki's Dad tossed the bag of cheese puffs on the ground. They exploded in a burst of light as the sound of jingle bells got progressively louder.
 
Presently someone came hurtling through the portal of light, which dissipated as soon as the individual burst forth.
 
Sumiki’s Dad and Photok came running over.
 
“Is this Santa Claus?” Photok asked.
 
“No … Santa has an aquarium.”
 
They sat the stranger up and brushed the sand and dirt from his frame.
 
“Hi there,” the stranger introduced himself. “The name’s Grammatical—Mister Grammatical.” He looked at the two beings hovering over him. “I don’t know what just happened, but I would like to know how I can be of assistance.”
 
“I’m Photok, and this is Sumiki’s Dad,” Photok said. “And we can use any help we can get.”
 
Mister Grammatical got up from the ground. “It’s Christmas. It’s the least I could do.”
 

*-----*-----*

 
Photok, Mister Grammatical, and Sumiki’s Dad walked towards the Agori and Matoran settlements. As they observed the fallen robots and Red Star, Sumiki’s Dad recounted the circumstances of the great battle that saved the universe from decanonization.
 
Presently Sumiki’s Dad held up his hand. The other two stopped in their tracks.
 
“Someone is here,” Sumiki’s Dad said. He began to sniff around.
 
A nearby bush shuddered, and out popped a massive, colorful, and radically deformed rabbit. It sported an extra limb in the form of a tentacle, as well as three eyes and three ears.
 
“It’s the Toxic Waste Bunny …” Sumiki’s Dad breathed.
 
“IT’S TERRIFYING!” Photok screamed.
 
“Where are you gentlemen going?” Toxic Waste Bunny hissed.
 
“We’re going to make peace between two disparate factions,” Mister Grammatical said. He turned to Sumiki’s Dad. “Sumiki’s Dad, do you know this being?”
 
“I have seen him many times,” Sumiki’s Dad said. “I talk to him often.”
 
“As a figment of your imagination,” came a voice from behind. Sumiki’s Dad turned around to see the floating head of Greg Farshtey.
 
“Greg Farshtey …” Mister Grammatical breathed. “Perhaps you could help us!”
 
“I wish I could, son,” Greg said. “But the story is over, and thus I have no further jurisdiction in this universe. The story is, in fact, on the cusp of being rebooted.”
 
“They’re bringing BIONICLE back?” Mister Grammatical asked.
 
“From what I understand, they are. Nevertheless, it is important that you find a way to fix things here … and not further mess things up.” He looked pointedly at Sumiki’s Dad. “I remember you. You were the cause of this mayhem.”
 
“Listen, bearded one. I’m only here because I was trying to find a nice machine-washable brand of cheese puffs for my brother-in-law to give him for Christmas.”
 
“… okay,” Greg said. “In any event, you all are our last hope for preventing all-out war on this planet. I can show you the way.” As Greg’s head floated off towards the villages, Photok and Mister Grammatical looked back and forth between Sumiki’s Dad and Toxic Waste Bunny.
 
“AND BRING THE RABBIT!” Greg yelled back.
 
Mister Grammatical grumbled.
 
“Do not insult the CEO of Toxic Waste Industries,” Sumiki’s Dad said.
 
“Oh, no, it’s not … that,” Mister Grammatical said. “It’s that Mr. Farshtey started a sentence with a conjunction, and even though that’s not technically incorrect, it’s generally seen as bad form.”
 
“Living up to your name, I see,” Toxic Waste Bunny said.
 

*-----*-----*

 
The floating head of Greg Farshtey attracted the attention of the Agori villagers, who followed it into the Matoran camp. As the Agori stopped on the border of the makeshift Koro, the Matoran came out of their huts, following the strange floating head.
 
As Sumiki’s Dad and the rest of the gang made their way towards the assembled villagers, Greg’s head floated towards them.
 
“This is where I leave you,” the writer said. “Good luck.”
 
All eyes were now on Toxic Waste Bunny.
 
“Hi y’all,” Toxic Waste Bunny said. “I’m here to say that I don’t really know anything about what’s happening. Sumiki’s Dad?”
 
Murmurings could be heard from the crowd regarding Sumiki’s Dad and his return and what it meant for their existence.
 
“In my universe,” Sumiki’s Dad said. “This time of year is Christmastime. Everyone celebrates in their own way, but in short, the traditions we keep remind us that we’re not so different from one another, and that the only worthwhile thing to do in our lives is to be kind and loving to each other. We all struggle to understand and comprehend others as equal beings to ourselves, and your little … clans … are certainly no exception.” He paused to take some lip gloss out of his back pocket and take a bite out of it. “And sure, we all have our differences, but in the spirit of Christmas, can’t we at least get along for a little while?”
 
Suddenly, Makuta Krika flew overhead, tossing down small packages. 
 
“MERRY CRAST-MAS!” Krika exclaimed.
 
Mister Grammatical was so taken aback by the Makuta’s pun that he had to sit down.
 
Krika alighted in front of Sumiki’s Dad. “Name's Krika, Makuta Krika,” he said, adjusting his Santa hat. “Pleasure to meet you.”
 
“And this is an example of love in the face of differences,” Photok told the crowd … although Matoran and Agori alike were too busy tearing into their gifts to notice Photok’s addition to Sumiki’s Dad’s speech.
 
“I feel as if our work here is done,” Toxic Waste Bunny said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have my own universe to get back to.”
 
“You have your own universe?” Sumiki’s Dad said. “Can I visit?”
 
Toxic Waste Bunny laid a slimy paw on Sumiki’s Dad’s shoulder. “Sumiki’s Dad, you can visit whenever you want, because it’s all in here.” The rabbit tapped Sumiki’s Dad’s head.
 
Presently the ground shook.
 
“Too much interference from other universes,” Krika said. “This universe will soon be on its own … free forever from the influence of man and possum.” He looked at Toxic Waste Bunny. “And … failed Rahi experiments. No offense.”
 
“Then we need to leave,” Mister Grammatical said. “Can you help us?”
 
“He can’t,” King Nernst said from behind them. “But I can.”
 
Flicking his tail, the foreigners in the universe were whisked away to the distant times and places from whence they had come.

[Toa Smoke Monster]

Finding out if cheese puffs are washable, King Nernst the possum, Greg's floating head,.....where else could one see all of these except in a tale with Sumiki's Dad.

 

This is another great chapter for this comedy series, and its a good gift too. I enjoyed it a lot!