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King Cucaracha

PROMO: It's A Wonderful Landon

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The Night Before Christmas

 

Twas the night before Christmas

And all through the SWF's HQ

Not a creature was stirring

Apart from a cockroach...

 

“MERRY CHRISTMAS!”

 

The doors bang open and SWF's General Manager Toxxic looks up to see Landon Maddix crashing through them at high speed on a wheeled office chair, ridiculous paper hat on his head and a party streamer parping happily away. Following behind him, looking slightly embarrassed (even though Landon has done far worse in the past) and rocking a paper hat like only a blonde wrestler-cum-model-cum-pinup-on-teenage-boys'-walls can is Megan Skye.

 

“...indeed,” Toxxic says as Maddix comes crashing to a halt – literally – facing the wrong way. “And the same to you.”

 

“C'mon Mike, it's time to put the paperwork away!” Maddix says expansively, “I'm sure it can wait until after the holidays, right?”

 

“It's the last stuff for the New Year's Party show,” Toxxic objects, then sighs. “Hell, it can wait until after Christmas. You've got a knack for making paperwork wait anyway. Me and Amy need to get to O'Haire before long anyway. I'll sort the rest of it out in England.”

 

“Well, since you're going back to good ol' Blighty for Christmas, I thought I'd get you something before you went,” Landon grins, producing a gift-wrapped package from behind his back. “Merry Christmas Mike!”

 

“Has he been drinking?” Toxxic asks Megan, taking the rectangular parcel dubiously.

 

“I have not!” Landon retorts, “I don't need to be drunk to show thoughtfulness at this festive time of year!” He watches as Toxxic takes the parcel, then tuts impatiently. “Go on, open it!”

 

“It's not Christmas Day,” Toxxic points out.

 

“Oh, who cares?” Landon asks expansively, “I'm sure it's Christmas somewhere by now, and otherwise I won't get to see your happy little face!”

 

“You have definitely been drinking,” Toxxic says, but is unable to keep a small smile from his face. “Ok, I guess I'll... oh, cheers Megs.”

 

“Merry Christmas,” Megan smiles, placing a small package on Toxxic's desk. Landon, equalled if not trumped, looks slightly put out.

 

“Very kind of you both,” Toxxic says, “and here's me without anything to give you except...” he opens a desk drawer apparently at random and starts rooting through, then brightens. “Ah!” The Straight-Edge Sensation pulls out two packages of his own, wrapped and addressed to the pair standing in front of him. “I wonder how they got there? Must be Santa at work, right Landon?”

 

“He's a good elf,” Maddix agrees absently, taking his present and shaking it curiously. He reaches into a pocket and pulls out something. “Just incase you thought I forgot you Megs...” he flashes her a wink and pushes the package over to her, then coughs. “I guess my present must be, uh, waiting in our room back at the hotel, eh?” he waggles his eyebrows saucily.

 

“No, it's here,” Megan replies with a small smile, handing yet another package to Landon and watching the Commissioner's face fall slightly, then rise again at the prospect of another gift.

 

“Well gang, I guess we may as well start,” Toxxic says, picking up Landon's present. “On three. One... two...”

 

Landon starts ripping the paper off.

 

“What?” he asks as the other two raise their eyebrows. “Old ring instincts! My shoulder's practically programmed to move before three!”

 

Megan and Toxxic roll their eyes and set to. A few seconds later, each of them have two unwrapped presents in front of them.

 

“'A Cucaracha Christmas',” Toxxic reads without much enthusiasm, “'SWF star Landon Maddix sings twelve classic Christmas hits with the aid of his acoustic guitar, one for every day of Christmas'...” He looks up at the Commissioner. “Good God. I appreciate the thought Landon, but-”

 

“You're welcome, you're welcome!” Maddix beams. “Think yourself lucky, my MySpace has been inundated with orders and I was worried there wouldn't be any left for presents. Just keep the volume down, don't want to disturb the neighbours, do ya?”

 

“I think I'll restrain myself,” Toxxic replies as Landon picks up one of his gifts.

 

“'Finance And Business For Dummies',” La Cucaracha says, then looks over at Toxxic. “Why do I need this?”

 

“Because the bottom's falling out of the global economy, we still haven't recovered the money that Flesher embezzled, we're very much a luxury leisure pursuit in a climate where it's rapidly becoming essentials only for a lot of families, and you're in charge of far too much to do with our cashflow for my liking,” the Englishman replies with a smile. “Enjoy.”

 

“Hey, Megan knows what I like,” Landon grins, holding up a box. “Home cocktail kit!” He fails to notice the quizzical look Toxxic shoots at the Perfect Ten, or the slight shrug he gets in response.

 

“So what did Landon get you, Megs?” Toxxic asks. Megan Skye holds up a box with a slightly surprised and pleased look on her face.

 

“Belgian chocolates. My favourite.” She leans over and pecks Maddix on the cheek. “Thank you.”

 

“Well, thanks for this,” Toxxic says, holding up the 'History Of American Punk' book that Megan gave him, “there's some good stuff in this, I'll bet.”

 

“So what did Mike get you?” Landon asks Megan, looking over. Megan blushes slightly, then holds up a long, thin box.

 

“A... rampant rabbit!?” Maddix asks, shocked, then turns to the General Manager.

 

“...for when you've been at the cocktails,” Toxxic tells him, waving his hands in a dismissive way. “I've heard stories.”

 

“Hey!” Maddix protests, then his eyes narrow. “I just hope it hasn't been... 'test driven' already,” he snickers. Toxxic just cocks an eyebrow at him and waits for the sniggering to stop. This takes a while, and is in fact only brought to a halt by the doors crashing open again, although this time without any paper hats or party streamers.

 

“Oi, Mike!” Amy Stephens says, bouncing in – well, she's mainly stomping, but bits of her are bouncing - “where are ya? We've gotta plane to catch, innit!”

 

“Alright, alright,” Toxxic sighs, “we're just opening presents Ames,”

 

“Cool!” the Punk Rock Princess beams, wandering over. “Whadja get?”

 

“Book and a CD,” her brother replies, holding them up for her to see.

 

“So where's mine?”

 

“In my bag, which is in my hotel room. You'll get yours when we go to The Old Shits' tomorrow,” Toxxic tells her, getting up.

 

“Cool, I 'aven't got yours wimme anyways,” Amy says, then turns to the other two. “An' I must admit, I ain't got you guys nothin'.”

 

“Don't worry about it,” Megan says, holding her hands up, “likewise. To be honest Amy, I didn't even know if we were going to see you before you went back to the UK.”

 

“Yeah well, been sight-seeing innit,” Amy grins, jerking a thumb at her brother, “given that I'm not chasing around after 'is carcass anymore I thought I'd actually see America this time, ya get me?”

 

“So what did you think?” Maddix asks. “Of America, I mean.”

 

Amy ponders this for a second, one eye screwed up.

 

“Fuckin' big. An' the beer's shit.”

 

“Alright guys, have a nice Christmas and New Year, and I'll see you in Nottingham on the 2nd,” Toxxic tells Maddix and Megan, grabbing the last of his papers along with his two presents (resisting the urge to 'accidentally' leave Landon's CD behind) and heading towards the door. “Coming Ames?”

 

“Yer,” his sister responds, “have a good'un, you two.”

 

“Hey, wait a sec!” Landon urges, rising from his seat. He points above them with a sly grin. “Mistletoe!”

 

“Er, I-” Amy begins, catching sight of Megan's face, but Landon has already grabbed her. A few seconds later the junior Stephens manages to pull away, just as Megan kicks the chair into the back of Landon's legs.

 

“Landon...” Toxxic and Megan say at the same time, in pretty much exactly the same tone of voice.

 

“Oh come on! Mistletoe obligation!” Maddix protests, pointing upwards at the innocent bunch of green leaves and white berries. “It's Christmas!”

 

“Christmas or not, I thought we'd made things clear,” Toxxic says, starting towards his former tag team partner and, somewhat longer ago, former deadly rival, “which is that you do not-”

 

“Mike,” Megan's voice stops him as the Assistant Commissioner starts up from her seat on the desk, “I'll handle him.” Toxxic smirks at Landon and makes a surreptitious 'under the thumb' motion as Megan slinks towards him...

 

 

...and then past him. Landon watches her hips go bye and his eyes widen as Megan heads directly for the increasingly confused Englishman, then takes his face in both hands and plants her lips on his.

 

Landon and Amy look at each other in shock, then back at Megan and Toxxic. They have time to look back at each other once more before Megan breaks the kiss off.

 

“Hey!” Landon protests pointing.

 

“Mistletoe obligation,” Megan smiles.

 

“But... but he's gay!” Landon splutters, unable to think of a more suitable argument. One corner of Toxxic's recently-kissed mouth quirks upwards in a familiar lopsided grin.

 

Mostly gay,” the Straight-Edge Sensation reminds La Cucaracha, then turns to his sister. “Come on Ames, that plane won't wait. Merry Christmas guys!” Amy rolls her eyes and follows him, leaving the shocked Landon alone with Megan.

 

“I... but you... I mean...” Maddix protests. Megan laughs silkily.

 

“Landon. Come find me when you've recovered the power of speech. I'll be in our hotel room.” She picks her packages up from the table. “With my presents.” She winks at him. “No hurry.”

 

Landon Maddix watches her leave. Moments later the folorn sound of a party squeaker rings out.

 

 

 

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL
Edited by Toxxic

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