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A Very Newtype Christmas

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"So", spoke Char, sitting comfortably on the couch next to his husband, Amuro. "I think it's time for you all to show me what you got."

The two of them were wearing matching Christmas sweaters, each with a horrendously rendered woolen Haro, ornate with various sparkling fabrics and sequins. Kamille, their adopted son, sat on the floor next to them with a facial expression of intensely restrained hostility.

"This sucks. Torres couldn't even make it this year, Fa is sick, and Emma's in the hospital for appendicitus. I wish I was hanging out with Judau and his crew, throwing bottles at cop cars."

"Kamille, you know I don't like you hanging around that Ashta kid. I don't think he's a good influence on you." said Amuro

"You just don't like him cause he hangs out with Char's ex."

"Kamille!" said Amuro glaring at Char, who was stifling a laugh.

"Fine. Anyways, uh. I have this gallon tub of ice cream from the store."

"Come on, Kamille. Ice cream is fine to eat in large quantities." said Char.

"Is it?" said Amuro. Char shrugged. Once a year, every year on Christmas, the surviving Argama crew members would gather at the Deikun-Mass-Aznable-Ray household and pig out on a gargantuan, and sometimes grotesque, amount and type of food. Char held the record for last year, when he ate an entire tub of clam chowder, and then another tub of actual clams; then tried to kiss Amuro and accidentally wound up throwing up on his lap. "Well, I've already prepared my own meal." Amuro reached under the couch and pulled out a large pot, covered with tinfoil. "This is every single type of cup ramen I could find at the store, all combined and cooked."

"Amuro, that's not even an abnormal meal for you. I've seen you eat ten cups of ramen in one sitting before."

"I got the spicy ones this time, Char."

"Then god help us all." Said the blond. "I guess it's time for the main attraction." Char went out to the kitchen and brought back a large tray. On the tray were three large dishes.

"Char, what is that?" said Bright.

"This," Char said as he lifted the center platter. "is three pounds of gravy."

"Why?" said Kamille.

"And this," Char removed another platter, ignoring Kamille. "Is three cups of hot sauce."

"Char? Are you doing ok, honey?" said Amuro.

"Ssh. One more." Char removed the last platter, grinning maniacally. "Fried. Butter." His voice deepened, as if he had decreed the words of God himself.

"Char...are you really just going to eat hot sauce, gravy, and butter."

"Hey, what about Bright? He's not eating anything!" said Kamille, pointing at Bright.

"Oh, I, I ate beforehand. I'm not very hungry."

"Chicken." said Kamille, not noticing as Char scooped large portions out of his ice cream bucket. Char slapped the massive hunk of neopolitan in a bucket before him, and began to pour a decent amount of Amuro's ramen in as well.

"Char!" Amuro shouted. "You're stealing my dinner!"

"Who, me? I've never stolen anything in my life." he said, smirking.

A wave of euphoria suddenly washed over the three of them, leaving out Bright. Colors, thoughts, emotions, flowed through the three of them, creating a singularity where all knew what was about to take place.

"Wait, Char...don't do it..." said Kamille in terror, knowing what was about to happen.

"Char..." pleaded Amuro.

"I'm sorry, Amuro." said Char, pouring the gravy and hot sauce into the bucket.

"Amuro, it's not over yet! It's going to get worse!" shouted Kamille, clinging to Amuro's arm in terror. Char produced a bottle of mayonnaise from behind the couch, unscrewing the lid and dumping the contents into the pot, using his hands to stir it.

"Is...Is he using his hands?" said Bright, peering over at them from across the room.

"Char! Char! Noooo!" shrieked Amuro as Char dipped into the bin with both hands and released the sloppy, savory, sweet, spicy, salty, slimy stuff down his gullet. It was pure, unadulterated carnage.

"Wait...he didn't mix in the fried butter." muttered Kamille.

"Oh no." said Char. "That's a chaser."

Char tilted his head back and swallowed the stick of butter, whole. The rectangle moved down his throat, not unlike a serpent devouring its prey. Amuro looked on in awe, while Bright and Kamille looked in revulsion. The phone rang from the other side of the room, its shrill tones being lost against the cacophany of sound.

"So, ah, Bright. It's been a while. Have you been keeping well?" he said, trying to make small talk to keep himself from becoming completely enthralled in Char's messy deeds.

"It has..." said Bright.

"Where's Mirai? Wasn't she supposed to come?"

"Come to think of it..." burped Char, trying to keep himself from already evacuating his stomach. "Sayla was supposed to be here too."

"Yeah...your sister is out having a Christmas meal of her own..." Bright said, looking at the ground. " wife's pussy!" Bright broke into tears, choking and sobbing as Kamille laughed and pointed at him.

"Haha! That makes you the Christmas Cuck!" he shouted.

"Kamille!", scolded Amuro. "Where are you picking up words like that?"

"Ch-Christmas cuck..." muttered Char, trying his hardest not to laugh. He was so proud of his sister.

The phone continued to ring off the hook, amidst the sounds of Kamille's laughter and Bright's sniffling sobs. "Kamille, get the phone already!" said Amuro, trying to defuse the situation.

"Fine, jeez." said Kamille. He walked over to the phone, picking it up and listening to the voice on the other end. "Y'ello, One Year War Veteran's Hospital. Uh huh. Uh huh." He paused for a second, caught off guard. "Oh damn." He put down the phone, and looked at the rest of the group. "Katz Kobayashi is dead."

"Who?" said Char, who immediately began to throw up the rest of his stomach on Amuro's lap. "Anyways, do you want to come into the kitchen and give me a handjob?"