"So how does it look so far?" Mayor Oaks asked his sons.

"Looks great so far, Dad, but are you sure you couldn't just get rid of Cabel?" Tyler proposed, "He's the least interesting of the group."

"Remind me again why they're not in the Bluesmobile for this? "Zachary asked, not as thrilled about the project.

"Well I thought it would be more interesting if they could do the chase without the unstoppable Bluesmobile," his father explained, "It'll make them look a little weaker, I think."

"Then if you can have them be attacked by more demons, and that possessed priest you brought up earlier in the story, it might..." Tyler started to suggest, but he was interrupted by the sound of the door opening downstairs. "Is anyone here?" Mrs. Oaks called up.

"We're up here, Victoria," her husband called down to her. Mrs. Oaks huffed up the stairs, heavy bags in her hands. "Sorry I can't stay," she told them all, "I need to go back in for some last minute work. You can open the presents in case I'm not back in time for tomorrow morning."

"So this last minute work might last overnight?" Mayor Oaks frowned, "That sounds like an extra day to me. You said you'd be off for at least three days starting at noon today last night."

"Well I made a mistake," Mrs. Oaks shrugged, "A good deal came up and I have to pursue it."

"Can't one of your agents do it, Victoria?" the mayor pressed, "We haven't been together for Christmas in five years."

"I need to do this one my...." Mrs. Oaks noticed the script format on her husband's computer screen. She leaned in closer to it. "John, what is this!?" she demanded.

"I just thought I'd see if I could reenergize that old Blues Brothers story I was writing, to see if I had the old spark left," he told her. "John," she said, an unpleasant look in her face, "We went over this hundreds of times before. You're through writing. We agreed it was a waste of time."

"But that was back when we were young and starving," he protested, "I figured now that you're all set with your career, I could try to...." Mrs. Oaks rapidly hit the EDIT key, chose SELECT ALL, and hit DELETE, leaving her husband with a blank screen. He sputtered helplessly. "But..But...But I worked the last thirteen hours on that!" he protested. "I've told you I'm not going to run back and forth between the smog capital that is L.A. and here over and over again!" she growled, "It would affect my career too much!"

"Oh yeah, God forbid THAT gets ruined in any way!" Tyler suddenly spoke up.

His mother rounded harshly on him. "Are you talking back to me, young man!?" she asked him curtly, "Because if you are, you'll get no presents this year!"

"I don't want presents!" Tyler snapped back, "I want a mother!"

Mrs. Oaks picked up the pile of presents she'd put in front of him and handed it to Zachary. "Here, I think you deserve these more," she told him. "Thanks," Zachary grinned, sticking his tongue out at his enraged brother. "Victoria, I really don't think you should do that," Mayor Oaks pleaded almost pathetically with his wife, "He has been a good boy this year."

Without a word, his wife picked up his computer and tossed it into the wall, where it shattered into several large pieces. "Just in cases you get any more ideas about making my life miserable," she told him sternly, "Now I'll be at work until I'm ready to come home again," she told him, "and don't call me under any circumstances, because I'll be too busy. And when she gets back from wherever she was last night, tell her that my ruling that she's out until New Year's stands still. Merry Christmas, John, and give up on those stupid dreams of yours. The wouldn't have worked then, and they're sure as hell not going to work now."

"Oh sure, because you won't give him a chance, witch!" Tyler shouted after her as she turned and left.

"And you're grounded until Valentine's Day!" his mother yelled back at him without turning around.

"Go ahead and make me!" Tyler yelled in defiance.

"Don't worry Mom, I'll make him," Zachary yelled after his mother.

"You do and you'll be sorry, Zack!" Tyler warned him.

"Shut up, grease ball!" Zachary shoved his brother, who balled up his fists.

"Boys, boys," their father interrupted, "There's no need for fighting. Zachary, give your brother his presents back, please."

"Hey, he said he didn't want them, dad, so they're mine," Zachary ran off with the bags before anyone could react. Tyler barreled after him, bellowing, "One day you'll be sorry you're sticking up for her, Zack!" The mayor rested his head listlessly on the desk and sadly observed the remains of his computer and dreams. "Why is it that love has to die over certain things it shouldn't?" he wondered out loud.

Neal pounded on the door of the Shermer police station. "Come on, somebody open up!" he shouted. There was no sign of life from inside. "This is unreal!" the salesman huffed, "You'd think that they'd leave SOMEBODY on duty in a blizzard!"

"I guess they're all home with their families," Del theorized, "It is Christmas, after all."

"Well I don't care if they're in or not, they're taking control of this case of death," Neal tossed the briefcase, which he'd attached a note to reading GIVE TO THE FBI A.S.A.P., through the station window with a loud crash. "Do you think that was really necessary, Neal?" Clark asked him. "I'm not putting my family in any further danger," Neal said firmly, "If they want them still, they can kill someone I've never met before. Right now I need to go home and put on some clean clothes."

"You need a ride?" Del asked.

"No, I think I'm within walking distance, and besides, I don't really want to get inside a car for a few more days," he glanced a sideways look at Del's car, which was now missing its top due to Del's misinterpreting of the plane's clearance.

"Okay, if you say so," Del shrugged, "I'm due to have lunch with the Bakers anyway; promised them I'd join them for Christmas two weeks ago. Better than just eating Christmas dinner all by myself. Maybe I'll stop by later after you guys are good with your families and all."

"Call first, Del, just in case we're not in," Neal said.

"Right. Take care, Neal, Clark," Del sauntered back to his car. "Uh, mind if I come with you at first, Neal?" Clark asked his old friend, "I'd like to give Ellen and the others a little more time to warm back up before I grovel begging for forgiveness again."

"As long as my family hasn't come back yet, otherwise I think putting you there in a holiday setting with them is tantamount to more disaster, no offense," Neal told him.

"Still not too trusting, are you Neal?" Clark raised an eyebrow.

"Only in certain areas," Neal told him, "Just don't touch anything, and we'll be okay." Then the salesman's face lightened and he said, "And if they haven't come back yet, which seems more likely considering the weather, I wouldn't mind going over your place for dinner."

"Really?" Clark sounded impressed that Neal would even consider this.

"Well sure, I mean, I haven't seen your family for a while, not since that wacky Christmas, and besides, if we're going to beg Ellen for forgiveness, you might as well use me as a buffer to vouch for your sanity."

"Works for me," Clark said, "Lead the way home."

He took hold of Neal's hand. Neal pushed him off. "We're not that close again yet," he said, then commented as they walked off toward his house, "I never realized how much I missed this town."

Del, meanwhile, was humming "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" as he drove through Shermer's deserted streets. Having picked up the presents he wanted to give Bender the other day, he was eager to get them wrapped and actually be able to give someone else a present for Christmas for once. His cheerful spirits vanished, however, when he got the first look at his house in three days. So appalled was he that he slammed on the brakes and left his car right in the middle of the road. "Oh my God!" he shouted, noticing with shock the several broken windows, scraped off siding, and furniture hanging halfway out the windows, "What happened to my house!?"

"It was your poor excuse for a stepson, Mr. Griffith," came Samantha's voice behind him, "He decided to state his independence while you were out." Del spun around, not expecting anyone to be nearby. "You sure about that, Sam?" he asked her.

"Oh sure I am," Samantha said with firmness, "I called the cops on him myself. What took you so long in getting back? It shouldn't have taken three days to get from New York to Chicago."

"It's a very long story," Del said, "You know if my plumbing still works?"

"It should," Samantha shrugged.

"Well I'm going to take a shower, then tell your dad I'll be over for lunch, if he still wants me there like we said," Del told her. He lumbered to his front door, trying to come up with a rough estimate of how much he'd have to pay to have the damage repaired.

Buck climbed out of his car. "Excuse me, are you Clarence Clark, the father of Andrew Clark?" he asked the man shoveling snow outside 329 Chestnut Street.

"That's me," the man said, leaning on his shovel, "You the guy that called last night?"

"Yep, I'm the guidance counselor," Buck told him, "I would have called again this morning, but with the phone lines down I couldn't."

"Well I hope you can make this quick, because I can't really think of what the problem might be," Mr. Clark said, turning back to his shoveling.

"Clarence, were you a top-notch wrestler when you were Andy's age?" Buck inquired.

"Yep, I was third in the state my senior year," Mr. Clark told him, "I've always wanted Andy to follow in my footsteps."

"Um hmm. So how hard do you....?" Buck was cut off as a large bird dove between the two of them and mercilessly attacked a rabbit that was unluckily above ground a few feet away. "Boy, he's sure starving," Mr. Clark commented.

"I can bet," Buck said. He was frowning deeply. There's just one thing, Clarence; that type of hawk's only native to southeast Asia."

"How would you know that?"

"I happened to have seen one up close when I served in Vietnam," Buck eyed the hawk very closely, "And to tell you the truth, this one looks almost dead-on like the one I did see."

"Ah, it probably just escaped from the zoo or something," Mr. Clark posed. "Yeah, I guess you're right," Buck shrugged. He still watched the hawk wearily as it flew off with its meal. "Anyway, as I was saying, I'm starting to wonder if maybe you've been trying a little too hard to get Andy to follow in your footsteps," he continued, "I read his file yesterday, and it seems to me that you might be adding pressure to the kid's life where he doesn't need it. For example, I having gone of that incident that got him detention last March, I can't help but think that he..."

"Look Mr. Russell, there's nothing for you to be upset about here," Mr. Clark looked him in the eye, "I'm just raising Andy to the best of my ability, teaching him to be a man and all that, and I think I'm doing a good job at it."

"Well I'm sure you mean well, Clarence, but I'm still a little concerned," Buck told him, "There's a lot more to teaching a kid to be a man than just having him be the big guy around. I should know, because in my sophomore year, before I dropped out, I knew a...."

"Look, Mr. Russell," Mr. Clark put his arm around his shoulder, "It's Christmas Eve. Enjoy the holiday, and if I see any reason to get concerned, I'll give you a call, OK?"

"If you say so," Buck sighed, "Have a merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you," Mr. Clark turned back to his snow shoveling. Buck trudged back to his car. "Well, yet another parent gives me the shaft," he told Chanice as he opened the door, "They all think they know how to raise their kids, blissfully unaware of the problems they're causing them."

"So in other words, nothing changed from when we were kids," Chanice said.

"Yep," Buck said, climbing in, "Throughout time immortal, parents just will never understand." He glanced back at his nieces and nephew and their extra guest. "And that's it for work," he told them, "It's time to hit the slopes."

"YAY!!!" Miles and Maizy applauded.

"Crystal Mountain, here we come," Buck announced as he started up the engine. Once he was out on the road again, however, his brow furled up. "I just KNOW I've seen that hawk before," he said quietly to himself.