(no subject)

Every Person
Down in Storybrooke
Liked Christmas a lot...

But the Mayor,
Who put them in Storybrooke,
Did NOT!

The Mayor hated Christmas! The whole Christmas season!
Now, please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.
It could be that her head wasn't screwed on quite right.
It could be, perhaps, that her shoes were too tight.
But I think that the most likely reason of all
May have been that her heart was two sizes too small.

But,
Whatever the reason,
Her heart or her shoes,
She stood there on Christmas Eve, hating those fools,
Staring down from her manor with a sour, Grinchy frown
At the warm lighted windows below in their town.
For she knew every person down in Storybrooke beneath
Was busy now, hanging a mistleoe wreath.

"And they're hanging their stockings!" she snarled with a sneer.
"Tomorrow is Christmas! It's practically here!"
Then she growled, with her fingers nervously drumming,
"I MUST find a way to keep Christmas from coming!"
For, tomorrow, she knew...

...All the town girls and boys
Would wake up bright and early. They'd rush for their toys!
And then! Oh, the noise! Oh, the noise! Noise! Noise! Noise!
That's one thing she hated! The NOISE! NOISE! NOISE! NOISE!

Then the people, young and old, would sit down to a feast.
And they'd feast! And they'd feast!
And they'd FEAST! FEAST! FEAST! FEAST!
They would start in on pudding, and ham and rolls made of yeast
Which was something the Grinch couldn't stand in the least!

And THEN
They'd do something she liked least of all!
Every person down in storybrooke, the tall and the small,
Would stand close together, with Christmas bells ringing.
They'd stand hand-in-hand. And the people would start singing!

They'd sing! And they'd sing!
AND they'd SING! SING! SING! SING!
And the more the Mayor thought of the cheery way they would sing
The more the Mayor thought, "I must stop this whole thing!
"Why for twenty-eight years I've put up with it now!
I MUST stop Christmas from coming!
...But HOW?"

Then she got an idea!
An awful idea!
THE MAYOR
GOT A WONDERFUL, AWFUL IDEA!

"I know just what to do!" The Mayor Laughed in her throat.
And she made a quick grab for her scarf and a coat.
And she chuckled, and clucked, "What a great evil trick!
"Why this very day I'll make every last one of them angry and sick!"

"All I need is a spell..."
The Mayor looked around.
But since magic was scarce, there was none to be found.
Did that stop the cruel Mayor...?
No! The Mayor simply said,
"If I can't find a spell, I'll make one instead!"
So she called Rumplestiltskin. And he took some gold thread
And he tied up a spell that would put them all in bed.

Baby, it's cold outside

Ripley hadn't meant to fall asleep. He never seemed to mean to fall asleep, really. It just happened. When and where were rarely up to his discretion. He had been sitting on a bench just down the road a ways from the station, watching the snow fall from the dark night sky. Drinking a cup of hot coffee, the Sheriff's set a little off to the side while Ripley waited for him to get off of his shift. He had been so distracted, watching the soft white flakes floating down from the sky, that he had not noticed at all, the sudden wave of exhaustion. Lulled into it more than usual by the cold and the quiet.

No, Ripley had not meant to fall asleep waiting for the Sheriff. But he had. He had fallen right over on that cold metal bench, coffee spilling across the ground and slowly freezing into a discolored spot among the snow. To any passing person unaware of his condition, it would have just looked as if some homeless man had not had the frame of mind to get under somewhere covered. But Ripley remained unaware of the snow as it fell from the sky in fine white sheets. Covering him, the bench and the streets in a layered dusting of white.