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Santa’s downfall: A cross over Christmas special

Summary:

Reese from Malcolm in the Middle accidentally upsets Santa, and to fix it, he journeys to the fourth dimension of hell to get ancient snow to stop Santa’s evil reign
Everyone I’ve ever put in a story is in this (the ones I could fit in)

Notes:

This is not meant to mock or disrespect the Lord, or any religious beliefs in any way.

I wrote this at a Christmas party just to make my cousin mad.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Reese Wilkerson was done. He was so over Santa and the whole Christmas charade. Every year, Santa took all the credit, delivered all the presents, and did nothing but sit back and enjoy the cookies. Reese didn’t get the glory. Reese didn’t even get the cookies. He was fed up. So, Reese decided to take action.

He was going to summon the Devil.

He found an old book titled How to Summon the Devil for Beginners and figured that this was his best shot. Sure, it looked suspiciously like it came from the clearance aisle at a sketchy bookstore, but what did Reese have to lose?

With a deep breath, Reese set up the ritual in his room: a few candles, some old incense that smelled weird, and the book propped open in front of him. He read the incantation out loud, half expecting nothing to happen.

“Devil, come to me. I need your help. I’m going to take down Santa. He’s got too big of an ego, and I’m sick of it. I need you to help me make him give presents to everyone, or at least make him stop being a jerk. Please.”

The room grew cold. The candles flickered out. Reese waited. Nothing.

Then, there was a snap of fingers.

Reese turned around quickly, his heart racing. Standing in the doorway was the Devil—tall, dark, and, frankly, kind of unimpressive. He was wearing a hoodie and sunglasses, looking way too casual for someone who was supposed to be terrifying.

“Did you summon me?” The Devil asked, his voice bored, like he was doing Reese a favor.

Reese blinked. “Uh, yeah. You’re the Devil, right?”

The Devil sighed. “Obviously. But I’m on a tight schedule. What do you want?”

“I need your help to take down Santa. He’s been hogging all the attention. He thinks he’s some big deal, and it’s ruining Christmas for everyone, especially me. I need him to… well… overdose on presents or something. I don’t know, just make him stop being so full of himself.”

The Devil crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. “Okay, so you want me to do your dirty work. Sure. But there’s a catch.”

Reese squinted. “A catch?”

“Yeah. You want to take him down? Fine. But you’re going to need something special. The kind of thing that’ll make him choke on his own ego. You’re going to need ancient snow. The real stuff. Not that fake powdered stuff they sell at stores. The snow that’s older than time itself.”

Reese frowned. “Where do I get that?”

“It’s in the fourth dimension of hell,” the Devil said with a shrug. “Good luck getting it. But if you do, I’ll help you with Santa. Deal?”

Reese thought for a second. “Fine, deal.”

Before Reese could react, the Devil snapped his fingers, and the world around him started spinning. Everything went black.

The Fourth Dimension of Hell

Reese opened his eyes and found himself in a place that made his room seem like a five-star resort. The sky was orange, the ground was cracked and smoking, and the air smelled like burnt rubber. It was the fourth dimension of hell, just like the Devil had said.

“Great,” Reese muttered. “This is the worst.”

He looked around, trying to figure out where to start. In the distance, he saw a massive ice mountain that seemed way too out of place in this fiery hellscape. That had to be where the ancient snow was.

As Reese trudged through the hellish landscape, he spotted creatures made of smoke and fire. They glared at him as he walked past, but none of them attacked. Reese figured they were probably too busy with whatever evil stuff they had going on. He finally made it to the ice mountain, which seemed to gleam with a weird, unnatural light.

Standing in front of the mountain was a massive gate, guarded by two horned demons who were far too chill for Reese’s liking.

“Hey, kid,” one of the demons said, “you here for the ancient snow?”

“Uh, yeah,” Reese said, trying to act cool. “I need it for something really important.”

The demon raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re ready for that?”

Reese nodded. “I’ve come this far. I need it to take down Santa.”

The demon laughed, a sound like the screech of metal on stone. “Yeah, good luck with that. It’s not just snow. It’s a weapon. You mess with it, and it’ll mess with you.”

Reese didn’t care. He had come this far. He was getting that snow.

Back at the North Pole, things weren’t exactly merry. Santa had turned into a complete monster, his ego growing to the size of his sleigh. He had been demanding, bossy, and downright rude to everyone around him. His elves didn’t help matters.

Santa’s evil crew of elves was starting to get tired of his crap, and they were ready to do something about it
Trent Lane, the normal elf who spent most of his time sulking in the corner, was over it.
Eminem, the rebellious elf who had a short temper, was sick of Santa’s arrogance.
The Family Guy elves—Peter, Stewie, and Meg—were causing chaos and pretending they didn’t care, but they definitely did.

The American Dad elves —Stan and Roger—were just there for the ride. Roger was causing trouble, and Stan was trying (and failing) to keep everything in order.

The Resident Evil team—Leon, Claire, and Jill—were there to keep an eye on Santa. They suspected he was hiding something dark under all that jolly red fluff.

Santa sat on his throne, his face twisted in anger. “You elves better start working faster! I’m not gonna give out presents to anyone who isn’t on my good side!”

“Yeah, whatever, Santa,” Trent muttered. “You’re so full of yourself. I don’t even know why we bother anymore.”

“Shut it!” Santa bellowed. “You’re all lucky to be working for me! I’m the reason Christmas even exists!”

Eminem snorted. “Please. You’ve been riding that high for centuries. It’s time for someone else to take over.”

Peter Griffin laughed, not even trying to hide his smirk. “Yeah, you’re just an old man who thinks he’s still got it. But we’re tired of you bossing us around.”

Santa’s face turned red. He stood up, his voice booming. “You’re all fired! I’ll make sure none of you get another Christmas ever again!”

 

Back in the fourth dimension of hell, Reese had made it to the top of the ice mountain. There it was—the ancient snow. It looked so simple, like normal snow, but there was something glowing inside it. Something powerful.

Reese didn’t waste time. He grabbed a chunk of the snow and stuffed it into his backpack.

“You’ve got what you came for,” one of the demons muttered from behind him. “You better watch out for Santa. He’s no joke.”

Reese nodded. “I know. But with this snow, I’ll be able to take him down.”

The demon smiled darkly. “Good luck, kid. You’ll need it.”

With the snow in hand, Reese rushed back to his world. He had one last stop before he could finally dethrone Santa: he needed Jesus to help him.

So, Reese got to work. He headed to the nearest church—he had no idea if it was a good place to start, but it was the only lead he had. He pushed open the door, hoping for some kind of divine intervention.

Inside, everything was quiet. There was no one in sight, just rows of empty pews. Reese walked to the front of the church, half expecting the place to be some kind of spiritual labyrinth or something. But then, out of nowhere, a figure appeared. A guy in a white robe, barefoot, with a peaceful look on his face. He was glowing just a little—like he was both here and not here at the same time.

“Are you… Jesus?” Reese asked, feeling a bit awkward.

Jesus looked Reese up and down, then smiled. “Yeah, that’s me. You need help with something?”

Reese nodded, almost speechless. “Santa… he’s been running Christmas for way too long. He’s turned into this egomaniac. I need to take him down, and I need someone to help me. Can you—uh—help?”

Jesus scratched his chin thoughtfully. “Sounds like a mess, alright. But you’ve got good timing. I was just thinking about how crazy everything’s gotten. Alright, Reese, I’ll help. But we’re doing this my way.”

Reese was about to ask what that meant when Jesus snapped his fingers.

Suddenly, they were both standing in the middle of New York City. But not just any New York City—this one was different. Jesus and Reese were now giants, towering over the skyline. It was like a scene out of an action movie. Reese looked down at the streets below and saw tiny cars, people, and even the Statue of Liberty looking small.

“What the—” Reese began, but Jesus held up a hand, smiling.

“We’ll be just fine. Let’s make this a proper showdown. Now, you ready to go get Santa?”

Before Reese could say anything, there was a loud boom from above. Santa’s sleigh was flying through the sky, led by his evil army of elves.

The sleigh crashed into the side of a building, sending glass and debris flying everywhere. Santa’s evil elves—Cody Rhodes, Trent Lane, Eminem, and the rest—jumped down from the sleigh, ready for action. They looked up at the giant Jesus and Reese, their eyes full of anger.

“You think you can stop Santa?!” Trent Lane shouted from the ground. “You’re nothing compared to him!”

Eminem cracked his knuckles. “Santa’s got power. You can’t mess with that.”

Reese, towering above them, grinned. “Well, we’ll see about that.”

Before the battle could really get started, a figure appeared on the other side of the street—none other than Solid Snake. He was holding a rocket launcher, looking as cool as ever.

“Looks like you need some backup,” Snake said, pointing the rocket launcher toward the sky. “I’ve got this covered.”

Reese was surprised to see him. “You’re here?”

“Of course I am,” Snake replied, loading the launcher. “Nothing says Christmas like blowing things up.”

The battle began. Santa’s sleigh was zooming through the sky, firing lasers and throwing ice bombs from above. Reese and Jesus fought back by using the giant snow powers Reese had brought from Hell. The ancient snow began swirling around Jesus’ hands, freezing anything it touched. It wasn’t long before giant snowballs were flying, crashing into Santa’s elves.

Trent Lane tried to dodge a snowball, but it hit him square in the face, knocking him into the side of a building. Cody Rhodes, ever the fighter, tried to punch the air in frustration but ended up tripping over his own feet. Meanwhile, Eminem was rapping insults as he dodged snowflakes, clearly not enjoying himself.

Santa’s sleigh came in low, and Reese turned to Jesus. “Can you handle this?”

Jesus smiled. “Of course.” He snapped his fingers, and just like that, his robe swirled around, and he grew even larger. He reached out, grabbed the sleigh, and tossed it across the city with ease, sending it crashing into a nearby skyscraper.

Santa, enraged, stood up in his sleigh, shaking his fist. “You think you can beat me? I’m Santa! I give out the presents!”

“I’m done with you,” Jesus said calmly, stepping forward. He raised his hand, and a massive wave of snow rushed down the streets, sending Santa’s sleigh flying off course and crashing into a pile of rubble.

“You’re finished,” Reese said. He was still trying to figure out how this was happening, but everything was working out. For once, he felt like he was actually making a difference.

But the fight wasn’t over yet. Santa, furious beyond belief, summoned more of his evil elves. They were everywhere—running across the rooftops, using rocket launchers, and throwing snowballs filled with explosives. The streets were filled with chaos, but Snake wasn’t about to let it get out of hand.

“Time to clean this up,” Snake muttered, launching a rocket at a group of elves. They didn’t stand a chance. The explosion was massive, sending a wave of destruction through the city. Elves went flying, their bodies scattered across the streets. Cody Rhodes and Trent Lane were among the first to go down, their bodies taking the brunt of the blast.

As Snake reloaded, he turned to Reese. “We’ve got to end this. They’re not going to stop until Santa’s finished.”

Reese nodded. “Right. Let’s do it.”

Santa had seen enough. He charged toward Jesus, his red suit glowing with dark magic. “I’ll end this myself!”

But Jesus was ready. He pulled out his board—yeah, a skateboard—and challenged Santa to a final showdown. “You wanna go, big guy? Let’s do this.”

Santa lunged at Jesus, but with one swift move, Jesus flipped his skateboard beneath him, launching himself into the air. He came down with all his might, slamming into Santa with a massive kick that sent Santa crashing into the ground, shattering the pavement beneath him.

Reese watched in awe. “That was awesome.”

“Thanks,” Jesus said, stepping back. “But we’re not done yet.”

With a final swipe of his hand, the giant snowstorm surrounded Santa, trapping him in an icy tomb. His elves were wiped out by the explosions and chaos, and Santa’s powers were crushed beneath the weight of the ancient snow.

Santa lay there, frozen, his ego shattered. His empire was over.

Reese turned to Jesus. “We did it.”

Jesus smiled. “Yeah. Now it’s time for a real Christmas.”

As the city returned to normal, Reese stood next to his new giant friend. “I guess… I guess Christmas is actually pretty cool when you’re not getting screwed over.”

Jesus nodded, a grin on his face. “I’ll take care of the presents. You just take it easy, Reese. You earned it.”

And with that, the battle for Christmas was over.

Peter Griffin: “Well, that was something. But you know what? Merry Christmas, everyone!”

Lois Griffin: “Yeah, Merry Christmas!”

Jeff (American Dad): “Merry Christmas, guys. Let’s make the best of it.”

Fred Durst: “Merry Christmas, y’all. Let’s keep it real.”

Jesse Pinkman: “Yo, Merry Christmas to all!”

Optimus Prime: “Merry Christmas, and may peace be with you all.”

Leon Kennedy: “Merry Christmas. Stay safe, everyone.”

Claire Redfield: “Merry Christmas, everyone.”

Stewie Griffin: “Merry Christmas, you imbeciles.”

Meg Griffin: “Merry Christmas!”

Stan Smith (American Dad): “Merry Christmas!”

Hayley Smith: “Merry Christmas, everyone.”

Roger (dressed as Santa): “Merry Christmas, people.”

Chris Griffin: “Merry Christmas!”

Brian Griffin: “Merry Christmas, everyone.”

Francine Smith (American Dad): “Merry Christmas!”

Steve Smith: “Merry Christmas, everyone!”

Toshi Yoshida (Fortnite): “Merry Christmas!”

Ryu (Fortnite): “Merry Christmas!”

Batman: “Merry Christmas.”

Spider-Man: “Merry Christmas!”

Wonder Woman: “Merry Christmas, everyone.”

Iron Man: “Merry Christmas!”

SpongeBob SquarePants: “Merry Christmas!”

Patrick Star: “Merry Christmas!”

Squidward Tentacles: “Merry Christmas, I guess.”

Mario: “Merry Christmas!”

Luigi: “Merry Christmas, everyone!”

Darth Vader: “Merry Christmas.”

Shrek: “Merry Christmas, donkeys!”

Fiona Apple: “Merry Christmas.”

Dean Winchester: “Merry Christmas!”

Tre Cool: “Merry Christmas, dudes!”

Billie Joe Armstrong: “Merry Christmas, everyone!”

Fred Figglehorn: “Merry Christmas!”

Fred Durst: “Yeah, Merry Christmas again!”

Gerard Way: “Merry Christmas, folks.”

Jessie Pinkman: “Yo, Merry Christmas again!”

Edward Scissorhands: “Merry Christmas.”

Cody Rhodes: “Merry Christmas!”

Fergie: “Merry Christmas!”

Hayley Williams: “Merry Christmas, everyone!”

Britney Spears: “Merry Christmas!”

Eminem: “Merry Christmas.”

Leon Kennedy: “Merry Christmas, stay safe.”

Trevor (Grand Theft Auto): “Merry Christmas!”

John Cena: “Merry Christmas!”

Jonathan Davis (Korn): “Merry Christmas.”

Johnny Storm: “Merry Christmas!”
𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝑒𝓃𝒹.

Notes:

Merry Christmas to all of you guys I hope you all have a wonderful time now this is the last story I’ll post this year see you in 2025