"...Okay, so we missed Halloween."

"How did we even do that?"

The three angels were having a discussion on the floor of the recording studio. Pit was trying to catch a Bellsprout in Pokemon GO and mostly tuning out their conversation, though.

Dark Pit gave Shadmé a glare. "You tell me."

Shadmé gave him an even look. "Are you scared? After what happened last year?"

"Of course not!" Dark Pit folded his arms across his chest.

"Then let's not go around blaming each other if we don't even have a reason for it." Shadmé turned to look out the window. It was snowing, an obvious sign of the winter season. "We have to move on. We always do a winter episode; it was our very first holiday special, and not only does it have sentimentality value to the viewers, it's also very special to us. Let's focus on that instead."

"Why not both?" mumbled Pit.

The two angels looked up to him. "Mind repeating that, Pit?" Dark Pit asked. Pit apparently didn't hear him, so Dark Pit had to lean over and manually turn Pit's phone off, much to his protest.

"I said...why not both?" Pit shrugged. "Just combine Halloween and the winter holiday into one awesome party! It's never been done before!"

"Doesn't that seem a bit...unorthodox?" Shadmé wondered.

"What's that mean?"

"Nevermind." Shadmé shook her head. "But we don't have much longer to prepare. Dark Pit-" she pointed at the dark angel- "you get the invitations in order. Pit-" she now pointed at him- "you help me decorate. Got it?"

"Who made you the boss of me?" Dark Pit grumbled as he got up and stretched.

"You're contractually obligated to listen to me. Now come on! Let's step on it!" Shadmé cracked her knuckles.

"Alright, alright, but just one question…" Pit stood up as well.

"What is it, Pit?"

He gave her a sheepish look. "Do you have a plan?"

"Of course I do!" Shadmé frowned. After seeing both of the other angels rest their gazes on her, she turned away. "...Okay, maybe I don't. Who cares? We'll figure it out. We're most certainly not getting anything done by standing here!"

Later…

Dark Pit surveyed the crowded studio with pride. It hadn't taken long for them to convince a sizable crowd. All he had to say was 'party' and people would come running.

The calls he had to make had been...awkward, to say the least. He'd try to call someone, they'd ask what the party was for, then he and Shadmé would have to improvise on the spot. He wouldn't be surprised if each guest expected something different here.

The studio was decked in green, orange, black and white streamers to represent the mixed nature of the holidays. Hors d'oeuvres like nuts and cookies, usually wintertime desserts, were served in distinctly Halloween-themed bowls and plates. It was all very interesting.

Many of the guests were in costumes. Dark Pit himself was dressed as a dark sorcerer. It wasn't too difficult of a costume to come up with in a pinch- he reused a hood from their first Halloween in combination with some long, drapey, black clothes. He also carried a dictionary that was disguised to look like a spellbook. He enjoyed baffling Pit by turning to random pages, spouting random words and making them sound vaguely spell-like.

The white-winged angel himself was busy in the kitchen. Surprisingly, Pit wasn't too bad of a chef. In fact, he'd even dressed as one to commemorate it. Dark Pit walked into the kitchen to check on him.

"Hey there, Pittoo!" greeted Pit, stifling a chuckle as Dark Pit tripped over a spatula. "Might wanna fix your costume there so your hood doesn't cover your eyes like that!"

"Very funny," Dark Pit snorted. "My question to you is, what in Palutena's name is a spatula doing on the ground? You're a cook- this is supposed to be a sanitary place!"

"Shhhh. Don't question the chef." Pit picked up the spatula and threw it in the sink. "Or else you'll find spiders in your cookies!"

"You're not making a very good case for yourself." Dark Pit gestured to the rack of cookies Pit was pulling out of the oven, shaped in a spider-like design.

"Anyway," Pit said after tapping the cookies' centers to make sure they were done all the way through, "what's the consensus out there? More food? More utensils? More drinks?"

Dark Pit pulled out a list from inside his long sleeve. "Let's see...the chocolate chip cookies are going very fast. More of those is always a good idea. Same with the soda. We're doing alright with pizza, and a good percentage of the guests have abandoned the utensils in favor of using their hands."

"Okay!" laughed Pit. "Is Shadmé entertaining them?"

Dark Pit turned to look over his shoulder. "Hopefully."

"I've got things covered in here, then," Pit concluded. "Just let me know if we need more food!"

Dark Pit left the kitchen, seeking out his dark-winged companion. He found Shadmé hiding behind a wall, sneaking glances around the corner every now and again. She spotted him and gasped. "Ack! Not you too!"

"Whoa, chill!" Dark Pit raised his hands. "What's the deal, Shadmé?"

She seemed to deflate a bit. "Thank goodness you recognize me. Are they gone?"

Dark Pit gave her an are-you-kidding-me face. "Don't tell me some of our guests think your costume is so realistic that they're trying to eat you."

Shadmé was dressed as a gingerbread cookie girl.

Dark Pit actually laughed out loud. "Guess we've learned our lesson, huh?"

Shadmé shook her wings out in annoyance. "For your information, I thought it would blend the two holidays together fairly nicely!"

Dark Pit shrugged. "So I'm guessing that this is your method of entertaining the guests?"

Shadmé leaned against the wall and sighed. "This is more entertaining for them than for me."

"You know what'd be hilarious?" Dark Pit suggested. "You should carry around some of Pit's gingerbread cookies. Whenever guests rush at you, you should throw the cookies at them and shout, 'I've given up an arm and a leg for you! Isn't that enough?!'"

Shadmé threw up her arms. "I'm glad you're finding this amusing."

"Fine, fine. I'll go make an announcement for them not to harass you." Dark Pit turned into the hallway, then walked to the main room. Lots of guests looked up from their conversations to give him an audience.

"Is everyone enjoying the party so far?" Dark Pit called. "Anything we can do to make things even better?"

The crowd responded enthusiastically.

"Good. I wanted to remind you all not to assault the giant walking gingerbread lady. That's just Shadmé. Capiche?"

The crowd seemed a little more disappointed at that.

"Capiche." Dark Pit waved his arms, and so the guests resumed their previous activities.

"Well, this is certainly interesting, Pittoo," Viridi smirked at him as he walked by. "You're actually acting like a good host. For once."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he protested hotly.

"You're not, like, insulting everyone as usual," Viridi replied. The goddess in question was dressed like a Christmas elf. "And by the way, don't get started on the size jokes!"

Dark Pit shook his head, recalling her outfit the year previous. "Then stop dressing up as short people!"

"Okay, edgelord," she said with a roll of her eyes. "Maybe you should stop dressing in all black."

Dark Pit gave her an even gaze. "Where are the rest of your minions?"

Viridi stuck her tongue out at him. "Arlon's off socializing or something. Phosphora said she wanted to go and bug Pit. And you caught me." She was carrying a bag under her arm, from which she revealed a veggie tray. "Honestly! Would it kill you three to have non-junk food at your parties?"

"Okay, look. First off, you're the one who started talking to me. I would be happy avoiding you all evening. Second, who even likes vegetables besides you?"

"Maybe you should just try some!" Viridi bared a carrot stick like a sword. "Do I need to beat some sense into you?"

"Leave me be, or I'll cast a spell on you!" Dark Pit randomly flipped to a few pages in his "spellbook." "Zoanthropy watchglass qualificator manurance!"

"Right, 'cause I'm soooo scared," Viridi mocked him. "Are you really trying to curse me? A goddess?"

"That was a threat," Dark Pit warned her. After giving her the I'm-watching-you gesture, he stalked away.

"You really shouldn't be playing with things you don't understand."

Dark Pit whirled around to see none other than the god of the forge watching him. He was "cleverly" dressed as a blacksmith. "Dyntos? What're you doing here?"

"You invited me, sonny." Dyntos leaned against his huge hammer. "Do you not even know the extent of your guest list?"

"Of course I do!" Dark Pit snapped. "What I meant was, what're you doing, sitting here like you rule the place and giving me pointless advice that I will most likely ignore?"

"I am giving you advice that is in your best interest not to ignore," said Dyntos with a slight smile. "I've seen much more than you could ever know, puny angel."

"Listen, old man, I'll let you in on a secret. This thing?" Dark Pit shook the book. "It's just a dictionary. If they had the ability to summon things, they'd be banned."

"Whatever you say," replied Dyntos. "I'd just be cautious, if I were you."

Dark Pit flipped to some more random pages in an effort to prove Dyntos wrong. "Interstitial dabchick isocost fluorimeter madefy taenia!"

Dyntos just shook his head and let the dark angel be. Slamming his dictionary shut with a flourish, he sauntered over to the decorated tree to inspect it.

Dark Pit, Shadmé and Pit had already exchanged their gifts much earlier. The tree bore several new ornaments, as Dark Pit had recalled Pit saying he'd get him an ornament last year. Therefore, Dark Pit and Shadmé had teamed up to get him ornaments as well. Pit had given Dark Pit a yin-yang-shaped ornament, which he secretly liked very much. The ornament had been hung quite high on the tree, like a trophy of sorts.

Dark Pit narrowed his eyes as he approached. "Pyrrhon, I smell smoke. You better not be setting the tree on fire."

"Fire? No no, you've got it all wrong!" The sun god poked his head out from the opposite side of the tree and grinned. "Pyrrhon does not burn the tree. Pyrrhon helps deck the halls!" A few ornaments were in his hands, but they were melting the longer he held them, resulting in the burning odor Dark Pit had smelled.

Dark Pit pinched his nose and fanned the air in front of him. "Ugh...can you just...like...not touch anything? Please? You're going to set the smoke detectors off, at this rate."

"If you insist!" Pyrrhon placed the ornaments on the tree, then buzzed away. Dark Pit sighed in relief.

"Need any help there?"

Dark Pit turned to see Magnus and Gaol. Both were wearing their normal attire, save the Santa hats they donned. He supposed that for them, that was fairly radical and festive.

"I'm sure the two of you have better taste on interior design than Pyrrhon," Dark Pit spat.

Magnus shrugged. "We'll see about that. I'm a warrior, not a tree prettifier."

"Relax." Gaol lightly slugged his arm. "You can't mess up tree decoration."

Dark Pit walked away, intent on interacting with more guests. At least those two humans are always agreeable, he thought to himself. Palutena strolled by, then turned to gaze at him. "Hello, Pittoo."

"I'll make you regret calling me that!" Dark Pit growled with gritted teeth.

Palutena chuckled at him. She was dressed in pure white, some sort of makeup on her face to make her look even more pallid. The eyeliner around her eyes added to the haunting appearance. "Come now. I'm not here to antagonize you. That's their job." She jerked a thumb behind her back at some villain characters, hoarding cookies to themselves and not conversing with many other guests.

Dark Pit narrowed his eyes and stormed off in their direction. The three Hewdraw heads looked up as he approached. "Uh oh!"

"Dark Pit's here!"

"So what? I have nothing to hide."

Medusa smoothed her dress, wisely not looking Dark Pit in the eye. "Well, if it isn't you."

Hades was in the back, putting his feet up on a chair and drinking some suspicious-looking maroon liquid out of a wine glass. Dark Pit didn't even know they had wine glasses. "Pity to see you here."

"I want to know what half of these Underworlders are doing here!" Dark Pit burst out at Medusa. "I only invited you, I remember that much!"

"They tagged along. What, did you expect me to stop them?" Medusa shrugged.

"Uh, yes," Dark Pit said. "I forbid Hades from being here. Period."

The Hewdraw heads looked at each other eagerly. "He didn't say anything about us!"

"We can stay?"

"Yes! More cookies!"

Hades rose, taking his sweet old time. "Do pardon me, Dark Pittooey. I had thought that you said all were welcome here at your gracious, horrendously last second holiday spectacular. And considering the type of party, I figured I'd fit right in."

"That's none of your business!" Dark Pit snapped at the god. "You weren't invited, and you aren't welcome here."

Hades didn't show any sign of being offended. "Touchy, aren't we?" He snapped his fingers, causing Dark Pit's dictionary to flash purple so quickly that the angel missed it. "I'll take my leave of absence, then. Perhaps I'll have my own party! You'll be sorry."

"I doubt I'd want to partake in any festivities planned by you," Dark Pit retorted, "knowing your idea of fun."

"At least I can work with magic correctly," Hades smirked. "Unlike your pathetic little book."

Dark Pit flipped open his dictionary. "I'm not a mage. I'm an angel! What, you think this is real?"

"Go on. Show me how fake you are," the Underworld god goaded him.

"I'll prove it!" Dark Pit began to recite random words again. "Epulotic xerophthalmia paremptosis flexion yapp. There! You see? Nothing happ-"

The ground started rumbling under Dark Pit's feet. Even Medusa looked slightly alarmed.

Hades wore quite the nasty-looking grin. "Adieu, Dark Pit! Have fun with the monster you've created." Hades created a portal and stepped in. Once he fully disappeared onto the other side, it disappeared in the blink of an eye. Medusa skirted around the portal and withdrew into the shadows. The Hewdraw shoved more food into their mouths, then fled for their lives.

Where the dragon-beast had formerly been, something else burst from the ground. Hearing the commotion, Shadmé and Pit ran to Dark Pit's side.

It first appeared to be a giant centipede with a glowing purple aura. But it was made entirely out of letters and words.

"What...is that?" Pit gasped in awe.

"Dark Pit, what did you do?" Shadmé asked with a lot less enthusiasm.

"I…" Dark Pit looked down to his dictionary. Only now could he see the flashes of purple it occasionally emitted. "Hades. He did something to my spellbook prop. I guess I accidentally summoned something."

Shadmé muttered under her breath, grabbed his book, then tossed it to the side. "Well, come on! Let's not dawdle. This doesn't look gorgeous."

"What do you mean?" Dark Pit gave her a look of confusion.

Shadmé's dark eyes were troubled. "I...I meant to say good. This doesn't look good."

Dark Pit pulled his Dark Pit Staff out of the recesses of his cloak. He also tipped back his hood so he could see better. "Weird. But whatever. Grab your weapon so we can flight."

"You mean fight, right?" Pit inquired.

The beast in front of them gave an echoey, staticky type of laugh.

A couple of the guests that wanted to help fight crowded behind them. Dark Pit gave a nod of appreciation. "Alright. Listen up. Pit, Shadmé and I have ranged weaponized, so we'll attacks from the frontier. The rest of you can attempt close-up using your vanilla abilities. Are we close?"

The crowd gazed at him in confused silence.

"Jeez, Dark Pit, you sounded autocorrected there. Everything walrus?" asked Shadmé.

Dark Pit slammed his weapon on the floor. "Gods-dangit! Everything is NOT walrus!" He pointed a finger at the monster. "I'll bet you anything that I just summer the manifesto of autocorrect!"

The guests shuddered in terror.

"Let's get him!" Pit yelled. The guests ran forward with an angry cry, throwing everything they had at the Autocorrect.

The Autocorrect screeched and bucked, flinging many guests with its spindly legs.

"Remember!" Dark Pit called above the noise. Don't save anything order you're liable to Beijing autocorrected!"

"What's a Beijing?" Pit shouted at him.

"I don't know!" Dark Pit replied.

Though the guests seemed to have piled on top of the Autocorrect, it moved quickly, fleeing to another side of the room. The three angels gave chase, though many of the guests were flung away.

"Yikes," Shadmé noticed with a wince. "What do we need to official as competition?"

"We'll finch that out later," Dark Pit assured her, not entirely sure of what she meant in the first place.

"I thingamajigger it's getting what," Pit mused with a shake of his head. Bow charged, he launched a powerful shot at the Autocorrect, which in turn fired a thin purple laser.

Dark Pit threw up his hands in exasperation at the damaged furniture. "Great! It wrestling the country."

The Autocorrect bared its pincers at the approaching group of guests. Gaol fired some blasts and covered Magnus, who snuck up close and got a few good swings in with his sword.

"We need to find a way to step this," Shadmé said with determination.

"I agriculture," agreed Pit.

"Wait!" Dark Pit turned around to catch a glimpse of the spellbook Shadmé had cast to the side. "What if we desire the author at its source?"

"What?" asked Pit.

The Autocorrect swept its tail forward, knocking the three angels apart from each other. "I said!" cried Dark Pit, "We should fight the monster by cutie it at the sauce: the addiction!"

Dark Pit was quickly becoming aware of the detriment lack of communication was becoming. With a sigh, he muttered, "I'll just do eat muse," and ran away from the scene.

Thankfully, Shadmé and Pit seemed to unintentionally be doing what he wanted them to- distracting the Autocorrect so it couldn't stop him. Dark Pit picked up the dictionary and ran back. "Here, Autocorrect, have a taste of correctly-used words and phrases!" He then proceeded to chuck it at the monster, who expressed pain at exposure to the dictionary.

"It's working!" Shadmé noticed. "Keep hearing it!"

Dark Pit experimentally stabbed the dictionary with his staff. The Autocorrect roared and flailed. The guests, Pit and Shadmé all worked to hold the beast back while Dark Pit gave the final blow. With one final cry, the Autocorrect dissolved into purple mist and faded away, leaving nothing but the ruined dictionary behind.

"Well," reflected Dark Pit, "That's that. So much for a holiday special."

"Pittoo, you aren't being autocorrected anymore!" Pit exclaimed with a grin.

"Nah, I think it's fine," Shadmé responded with a shrug. "We still have all night to party. We can make up for this disaster."

"Okay, wait. Now that we aren't being autocorrected...Shadmé, you were saying something about giving the guests competition?"

Shadmé flashed a nervous glance to the crowd, who was still looking at her like she was a real cookie. "Hey, whoa, hold on a sec! That was autocorrected! I meant to say compensation. Compensation!" Shadmé ran off, some of the guests chasing behind her.

"Happy holidays, everyone," Dark Pit said with a chuckle.

Well, that was...unintended. You see, I usually have an idea of where chapters are going to go when I start writing, but tbh, I didn't plan this out at all. The Autocorrect was partially inspired by a conversation with one of my FoLaD reviewers a while back, where we joked about autocorrect being a monster! I just find something really funny about throwing random words into place. I was having a blast using a random word generator to make a Dark Pit's "spells!"

Anyway, sorry it's not all that Christmasey! Happy holidays anyway, everyone!