The Bison (Vega) Who Stole Christmas
By Kaze

Disclaimer: Street Fighter belongs to Capcom, the very faint idea used from "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas" belongs to Dr. Seuss.

Bison had a great plan. Oh, it was horrible indeed! This plan was sure to put him in the hall of infame. Aftering eating his green eggs and ham, Bison setted out that morning to work on his plan. He spent twelve days poring over this plan, carefully and thoughtfully. Oh, this would be such a plan indeed!

What is Bison's plan? Why, to steal Christmas of course! Christmas was such a special holiday to everyone, that Bison was absolutely sure he could be sent to the villian hall of infame for this! Not as if he needed it, of course. He had more people seeking revenge than any other villian in fighting games so far, Geese Howard holding a close second.

He had his satellites dedicated to the North Pole, where they began the routine of keeping track of Santa and his Elves. He wondered how such a fat old man could deliver presents to so many houses across the world. But that wasn't important right now, what WAS important was to flich every gift the fat old man left behind. Thus, ruining Christmas for everyone!

But wait, Bison's brow furrowed when he noted a hole in his plan. Although the fat old man could visit each and every house at Christmas to deliver the gifts, Bison doubted he could keep up, much as he hated to admit. He thought and thought about this little problem over and over. Until he came up with the PERFECT idea! Why let Santa make his rounds at all? When Bison could just take over the North Pole and be done with it!

So Bison setted his plan in action. There were other reasons why Bison was doing this, besides the usual fame in getting the hall of infame. He had a tiny little heart, so tiny that you needed a satellite to even see it. He was a very cold-blooded man, because his heart couldn't pump enough blood through his body quick enough. Thus, the big fat cloak around his body, and why he likes to fight alot, fighting gets the blood running good.

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house. Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; the stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.

'Twas the night before Christmas and Bison would be plotting. Not a creature wasn't stirring, not even his underlings; the maps were hung at the walls with care, in preparation for the mayhem to appear.

Bison's aircraft appeared over the horizon, snow flying up from the force of his craft's propellers. Santa's little helpers pranced about in alarm, and ol' St. Nick, himself, stared up at it in shock. Soldiers of Shadowlaw parachuted down from the sky, guns aimed steadily at Santa and his little helpers. Bison himself floated down, grinning his big ugly grin of victory. Backed by his three elite warriors; Balrog, Vega, and Sagat, he could not help but laugh at what a cinch it was to get into the Hall of Infame!

"Santa, ol' St. Nick, Christmas won't be coming this year." Bison laughed heartily. "To no one but me!"

Santa looked helplessly at the big bad villian, who oozed with plenty of psycho power, with more to go. His soldiers suddenly seemed quite uneasy, and it would be Balrog who spoke what they felt. "Uh, Master, you think its such a great idea? I mean . . ." Balrog poked his two index fingers together nervously as he peered up at his boss. " . . . what about Christmas for us?"

Bison had not thought about that. Obviously, his men would want some Christmas cheer themselves. He had to think up something quick, lest his chance for glory be ruined by a single mistake.

"Take the gifts from Santa's workshop, they're all yours!" Bison declared, then added quickly. "Once Christmas is over."

Everyone cheered, but they stayed still, lest their boss get angry.

And so, Santa couldn't deliver for Christmas.

Later that night, Santa stood in front of a camera with Bison at his side. The broadcast system across the world was hacked, and Bison and Santa were appearing on every channel. Bison grinned widely and waved. Beneathe his notice, one of his technicians captioned on the bottom: "Hi, Mom."

"Citizens of the world!" Bison boomed as he clapped Santa hard on the shoulder. "Don't look under your Christmas trees tomorrow morning, because Santa isn't sending out gifts to anyone, naughty or nice!"

Across the world, there came shock. Children cried, mothers weeped. Men were angered that anyone could do so dastardly a thing! One man in particular, clad in pink, raised his fist in righteous anger, with great streams of tears pouring from his eyes, shouted. "SANTAAA!!"

Soon after this broadcast, much to his surprise, Bison's hotline was receiving alot of angry phone calls. From some very surprising people.

"BISON!" Geese Howard shouted angrily. "What the h*ll are you doing?! I was expecting something from Santa this year!"

"No wonder you haven't done anything bad this year . . ." Bison murmured.

"BISON!" Krauser roared. "What is the meaning of this?! How could you deprive the children of my village of receiving presents from Santa Claus!"

". . ."

But there were calls from not so surprising people.

"BISON, you b*st*rd!" Chun Li screeched angrily through the phone. "I can't believe you could go any lower, you worthless pile of *BEEP!* Why don't you *BEEP!* And your mama probably wished she never *BEEP!* *BEEP!* *BEEP!* Let Santa go NOW, or else I'm going to personally go up there and *BEEP!* *BEEP! *BEEEEEEEP!*"

"Oh, my." was all Bison could say.

"BIIIISSSOON!" Guil bellowed through the phone. "*BEEP!* *BEEP!* *BEEP!* And you can *BEEP!* Why don't you take your *BEEP!* *BEEP! *BEEP!* Your mama must be rolling in her grave right now, you *BEEP* Me and the boys are gonna get up there and *BEEP* *BEEP* your living *BEEP* *BEEP* off!"

"Bison . . ." Ryu's voice whispered softly. ". . . Satsui . . . no . . . Hadou . . ."

Bison was beginning to feel a little scared now.

"HEY, *BEEP!*" Ken shouted through the phone. "You've made my son cry! You better get your *BEEP* goons away from Santa and left him do his job, NOW! Or else, I'm gonna PERSONALLY fund the expedition to get your stinkin' *BEEP* dragged in kicking in and screaming, and then we'll *BEEP!* *BEEP!* *BEEP!*"

"Are they on your nice list?" Bison asked Santa.

Santa could only stare with wide-eyes.

"BISON!" Cammy screeched.

"BISON!" Zangief roared.

"BIIIIIIISSSSSOOONNN!" Orochi Iori bellowed, and proceeded to say Bison's name in whatever profane way possible.

"SAAANNTAAA!!!" Dan cried.

The phone calls were amazingly different, there were only occasional repititions of the same threats. Everyone threatening to mutilate Bison in one way or another, describing each one in very precice detail as to how the process would be performed, what equipment would be needed, and so forth. He was beginning to feel that the whole idea wasn't so great after all. He was about to relent until a certain phone call came up.

"General M. Bison of Shadowlaw?" a deeply dark voice whispered.

"Y-yes?" Bison stammered, because the voice oozed with more evil than he had.

"This is the committee for the Villiany Hall of Infame." the voice continued. "We've seen what you've done, and we'd like to award you with greatly renowned place at the Hall, due to the outstanding attention this has received. Congratulations."

"Th-th-thank you, sir!" Bison stammered happily.

"Oh, and Bison?"

"Yes?"

"Let Santa go and do his job."

"Er . . ."

"NOW!"

"Y-yes, sir!"

"And Bison?"

". . . yes?"

"You've took up alot of Santa's time, make sure you help him make his deliveries."

"Of course . . ."

"Oh, yes. And Bison?"

". . ."

"Bison?"

". . . . . . yes?"

"Merry Christmas."