Twistbuscus Adventures

   It was the night before Hearth's Warming Eve. Twister and Squall sat on Twister's bright blue sofa, Squall staring blankly at his hooves while Twister wrote a letter, reading aloud while he was writing.

   "Dear Santa," Twister mumbled, "I have been a very good Buscus this year—"

   "Do you have to read that out loud while you're writing?" Squall asked. Twister just gave him a stuck-up, hoity-toity look.

   "Yes," he replied, "it helps me focus."

   "You realize you just wrote that down?"

   Twister looked down at his paper to see that it now read Dear Santa, I have been a very good Buscus this year YeS iT HeLPs Me FOCUS. "Oh." He then brought his quill pen back to his paper. "Sorry Santa. That was to Squeebuscus."

   Squall facehoofed.

   "I've been very good this year and all I want is... the gun from Portal."

   Squall arched an eyebrow. "Ooooookay."

   "Amen, Twister."

   "Don't put amen on that," Squall groaned. "Amen is for Celestia."

   "Good. Now they both know what to get me." Again, Squall facehoofed, deciding right then and there that he'd had enough Twister for one day. He got up to leave, but was stopped by Twister. "Hey Squeebuscus could you put this in the mail real quick?" he asked.

   Squall took the letter with a fake smile on his face. "Sure!" The second he got outside, he crumpled the letter up and tossed it aside, smirking.

*That night*

   Twister sat alone in his house, having never moved from the sofa, fidgeting impatatienly. "Aaaghhh! I'm bor—" He then realized that Squeebuscus wasn't there. He snatched up his phone.

   Squall was woken from his sleep by a loud buzzing noise. His phone. Groaning, he picked it up and put it up to his ear. "What?"

   "I'm boooored!"

   "Dude, go to sleep. It's Hearth's Warming Eve."

   "What time does Santa come?" Twister whined.

   "How old are you again?"

   "Let's do something!"

   "Go. To bed." Squall then dropped his phone without even hanging up and passed out.

   Twister tried protesting. "But, bu... but... but... but, bu... but—" he cut himself off when he heard a faint snore come from the other line. "Aaauuugh!" He hung up the phone, disappointed.

*Three hours later*

   A fat pony with a white beard and bright red clothes transported himself to the next house with blue and orange portals. "Ho..." he landed on the next house, "ho..." he arrived at Twister's house, "Ho!"

   Meanwhile, Twister sat in his bed, tense, eyes closed. "Sleep," he motivated himself, "You can do this. Just like we practiced, every single night." He pretended to snore, but found himself frustrated. "No, that doesn't work," he growled. "Just... pretend you're in class." His face then twisted in agony. "Aaaagh, learning! Aaahhhh!"

   Santa then fell into his toilet, somehow slamming the bathroom door shut in the process, yet still dropping his portal gun outside of the bathroom. The sound made Twister jump, and he stepped out into the living room, where he saw the gun lying in the middle of the floor. His heartrate doubled, and he grinned from ear to ear. "Oh ho-ho! I got it!" He snatched up the gun and shot a blue portal at the wall and an orange one at his feet. He fell through the orange one and landed on the other side of the room. "I LOVE HEARTH'S WARMING EVE!" he hollered.

   Santa Hooves then stepped out of the bathroom. "No, Twister!" he called out. "That's mine! It replaced my sleigh back in 2007."

   Twister nodded. "Oh. So, is mine in one of those boxes or what?" He gestured towards some random presesnts that were somehow under the tree.

   Santa Hooves grinned. "Why don't you find out?"

   Twister grabbed a green present with a red bow and ripped it to shreds. Inside was a blue box with a picture of the portal gun on it. Twister grinned. "Oh, ho ho! Ha ha ha—" He then noticed the orange blurb in the corner. "'Replica'?" He turned to Santa. "What's that mean?"

   Santa Hooves shrugged. "Well... It's not real."

   "Oh." Twister then blew a ten-second raspberry.

   Santa tried to speak over him. "I only ha—Stop that!" Twister obeyed and shut up. "I only have this one."

   Twister smirked. "Well, that's fine. I'll just take that one and you can have-" he gasped dramatically, "-you can have this one. Wo-ho-ho-hoah. It's a replica."

   Santa Nooves shook his head. "I need the real one, Buscus. I still have to go to Aussieland!"

   "Aussieland, huh?" Twister gasped, then took the gun from Santa's hooves. "I have an idea." Turning towards a random open window, he fired a blue portal at a satellite above him. The portal bounced off the glass of the satellite and in a random marketplace in the center of Aussieland. Twister then spun around and fired an orange portal at Santa's hooves. Of course, Santa fell through.

   "No, Twister!" he called. "Naughty! NAAAAAUUUUUGHTYYYYYYY...!" Twister closed the portal.

   "No need to thank me," he chuckled, "Now where was I?" He fired the two portals, one at the ground and one at the ceiling, and jumped into the one on the floor. Immediately, he began falling, falling, falling, becoming ever faster. His screams of excitement were chopped up and broken, cut off from the outside world as he fell into and came out of a portal. "WHA... AHH... AHH... WOOO... OOO... OOO..."

   Squall stepped through the front door, wearing an expression rarely seen from him—a smile. "Merry Hearth's Warming E—" he then caught sight of what was happening to Twister, and immediately deadpanned.

   "What in the fu—"

~END