A Voltron Christmas Carol

Epilogue: I've Got Friends in Low Places

Somewhere in the ethereal plain rested a bar. This probably isn't all that shocking. Everywhere you find humans- even beings who were at least arguably once human- you'll find a bar, even if it's only a hollowed out area in the back of someone's grass hut. It's one of the inmutable rules of life. Or death. Or… You get the point.

The bar didn't have a name. It didn't even have a strict location. Wherever a resident needed it to be, it simply was.

Wouldn't that just be a lovely thing?

In the bar on this particular night were several ghosts, most of whom you would by now find very familiar. They were congratulating themselves on a job that was at least done, if not done exceptionally well. They were currently sprawled around a cloudy object that probably passed for a table, passing around bottles of Ambrosia.

The Ghost of Christmas Past, done with his very first assignment, was having a fantastic time. "That was so much fun! You really got him, Future! You should have seen the expression on his face!" The little ghost tipped off his chair and fell through the cloudy floor, shaking with peals of laughter.

Yurak dropped one of his chains and fished the giggling ghost back up without spilling a drop from the bottle in his free hand.

The Ghost of Christmas Future tilted his head to the side and pointed questioningly at the chains.

The Ghost of Christmas Past, still snorting with uncontrollable laughter, tapped the eldest ghost on the shoulder and mouthed "Off Duty".

"Oh, right." The Ghost of Christmas Future smiled rather sheepishly. "Why exactly do you still carry those chains around anyway?"

Yurak shrugged and handed the bottle over Past's head- he'd obviously had enough- to Present. "I don't know. I guess because they get the point across more rapidly than daisies would."

The Ghost of Christmas Past fell off his chair again. The Ghost of Christmas Present handed the bottle of Future and dived through the floor after him.

Yurak leaned back in his chair and regarded Future solemnly. "So, what do you think?"

Future smiled an unreadable kind of smile. "Not too bad. We saved that poor planet, after all, and all those lives."

"Yeah," Present agreed, floating back through the floor and depositing Past on a barstool with a warning look, "but I thought we were supposed to convert him to the glory and goodness of Christmas."

Past snorted. "Are you kidding? Did you see that guy's memories? I'm amazed we managed to postpone the coming Apocalypse."

Present looked doubtful, but Future nodded. "He's right. Sometimes you just have to do the best you can with what you're given and hope for the best. Maybe time's all he needs to come around."

"And if not, maybe he'll screw up on someone else's shift!" Yurak started cackling to himself and trying to beat out a passable rendition of Jingle Bells using his chains.

Present finally smiled, reaching over to snatch the bottle from Future's hands. Taking a big swig, he glanced at Yurak. A fire suddenly appeared around the ghost's chair. Yurak leapt up, clutching hands to his suddenly white-hot chains.

"But death's cold," Present mimicked nastily.

Past started giggling again. "Oh, and giving a mortal ambrosia was a good idea?"

Future laughed. "That clapper bit was cute, though."

Past and Present both looked wounded. Past made a snatch for the bottle, missed, and stole Present's flask instead. "Like you should talk. All you have to do is sit there and point. Just your presence alone is enough to bring terror to the mind's of mortals. We already have him warmed up for you!"

The argument lasted long into the ethereal night, punctuated by several hysterical toasts to Rudolph and the Revolution. A good time was had by all.

The End.