Atlach Nacha: Christmas Sitcom

>The scene opens on a sweeping aerial view of MGCity by night.
>The buildings and the streets are covered by a modest blanket of snow, upon which the Christmas decorations only seem more colorful.
>A gentle breeze brings more snowflake, while the camera flies away towards the suburbs, showing rows of nicely decorated homes with gardens and families walking around the neighborhood and a Mother Baphomet around her many daughters, almost all the same size.
>We zoom closer to one peculiar home, briefly showing to the attentive observer, a Yuki-Onna looking confused at the snow-woman her husband is building with their child.
>Eventually, the camera phases through a window, arriving into a kitchen inhabited by an adult-looking Atlach-Nacha.
>She brings a spoonful of sauce to her lips, tasting her preparation.
>A frown briefly appears on her pale face.
>She open the spice-drawer searching for something.
>Then, her eyes light up, as she grabs [pic related] and sprinkles a pinch of it in her preparation, looking satisfied.
>Next, the self-proclaimed chef opens the oven, numerous, tiny, high pitched screams echo inside it.
>With a satisfied nod, she closes the oven.
>“Honey! The gingerbread fishmen are almost cooked!”
>In the living room, the husband shivers at this, but carries on with a smile.
“It smells delicious my love!”
>Next to the husband, a younger Atlach-Nacha walks into the room, she carries a small cardboard box with “star” scribbled on it.
“Be careful with this, sweetie. It’s very fragile.”
<“I’m careful, dad, super careful.”
>Anon pats his daughter’s head, mussing a little her long black hair.
“Alright, I’ll just open the box, check if everything’s in its place, we’ll put the star on the tree when the time is right.”
>The man open one of the flaps, letting a beam of blinding light and searing heat escape.
>Quickly, he closes the box and carefully sets it on the coffee table.
“Umm, sweetie, could you get me the ‘other’ one. This one is really pretty… But our tree might be a little small for it.”
<“But dad, what if Santa misses our home because the star isn’t bright enough?”
“It’s not the size of the star, or how much light it emits, that’s important, it’s the size of the heart.”
<“… does that mean I have to find a giant’s heart?”
“No. No. It’s a figure of speech. Santa’s wise and knowledgeable, he’ll find his way.”
<“Is he as wise and knowledgeable as great grandpa?”
“No. No one is as wise and knowledgeable as your great grandpa. No one and nothing will ever be.”
>For a moment, Anon stops and listen.
>Satisfied that the world wasn’t collapsing, he resumed unboxing the last of the Christmas decorations.
>The last box stood ominously on the carpeted floor.
>Anon stared at it with anxiety and anger.
>Gathering his courage, he knelt in front of it.
>Wiggled his fingers, making sure they would not fail him come the moment of truth.
>Took a breath.
>Exhaled.
>Breathed in deep.
>Wiggled his fingers.
>“Come on Indiana Jones. Or I’ll make the house crumble.”
“Dearie, please, I’m focusing.”
>And opened the box.
>Before rising up in exasperation.
“Every year! Every year I spend hours setting everything nice and tidy in each boxes, store it all in the attic, so we can get everything easily. Every year everything stays put except the Christmas lights!”
>His daughter simply sat, watched and listened.
“And it doesn’t matter what I do, it always end up a tangled mess! 2 years ago: I put zip ties around, found the zip ties tangled in the ball of knots. Last year, I used a metal frame for garden hoses to wrap the lights around. Here is the metal frame! It’s twisted beyond repair! What on Earth is going on in our attic?!”
<”Umm… Daddy?”
“Sorry sweetie, I should not yell. I’m just frustrated and confused…”
>“Your daddy was just like that when he and I first met.”
<“Daddy… I’m sorry, I’m the one who messes your lights up.”
“You? But… why?”
<“Well, I just wanted to do like mom. Weave my own web of lights and powers… But I can’t spin the threads yet.”
“Ohh, sweetie. It’s alright. I forgive you.”
>Anon sits on the sofa, bringing his little girl on his lap.
“You don’t have to hurry about bringing the end to the world of reason just yet, you’re still young.”
<“But the girls in my class are already practicing magic with their moms.”
“It happens, some grow up faster, but you can’t rush these things. One day, I’m sure of it, you’ll be able to weave and thread, and you’ll make absolutely mind-shattering works, and your mom and I, we’ll be here to help. I promise. If you want, you can keep practicing with the Christmas Lights, but you just have to tidy it up once you’re finished, would that be alright with you?”
<“Okay dad.”
“That’s my girl.”
>Pre-registered “D’aww” plays.
“… Wait a minute, did you see mommy weave a web?”
<“Yeah. She hides it in the kitchen cupboard.”
“Honey! You promised not to destroy the world before Christmas!”
>“But there are Christmases every year! You cheated!”
“You can’t destroy the world right after! You’ll never get your present from when our daughter is with my parents!”
>“If the next year doesn’t come, then there can’t be no ‘next Christmas’, so I can destroy the world!”
<“Does this mean Christmas vacation will last forever?”
“No, sweetie, school is important.”
<”But Great Grandpa can just teach me!”
>“Ha-AH! Two votes for the Advent of My Kin, against one.”
“Our daughter is too young to vote! Honey, don’t end the world.”
>Pre-recorded laughter and cheers play as the character drops the title of the show.
>The camera slowly backs away from the house, leaving the family squabble, while Christmas Carol play, a little muted and the credits roll.

Merry Christmas season to all.