David Boat

[Danny flies to the Jewish Manson home, hoping Sam won't put the blame on him for attacking Christmas]

Danny Fenton: [in joy] Sam!

Ghost Writer: Danny said.

Danny Fenton: [to Ghost Writer] Oh, for crying out loud!

Samantha "Sam" Manson: I know. Can't you see we're all under a cloud? / Every present we had, in the chimney up through it! / That might work for you, but that's not how we do it!

Ghost Writer: And Sam saw sad faces on Mom, Dad, and Granny, / So I typed on my keyboard that the blame was on Danny!

[Ghost Writer conrtols Sam by her anger]

Samantha "Sam" Manson: [angrily] You! You did this?

Danny Fenton: [shouts] Are you out of your mind?

Samantha "Sam" Manson: [shouts] You're the holiday scrooge! Do you think that I'm blind?

Ghost Writer: And Danny and Sam found themselves in a spat. / But before Dan could calm her, I soon realized that / A new threat was needed to cut through the noise; / And what better way than attack of the toys?

[Ghost Writer brings all the toys from each building to attack the town, then starts forming them together. Danny and Sam stop and go outside to look at this scenery; Danny turns into Danny Phantom to find out what's going on]

Ghost Writer: From all over the town, the toys started to merge! / I'm really quite weakened when I get the urge! / On this night before Christmas, a brand new attacker! / And now, face the wrath of my monster nutcracker!

[the controlled toys form a giant Nutcracker, which comes to life and attacks]

Danny Phantom: [surprised] Aw, nuts!

[he starts running away from the monster]

Ghost Writer: Danny cried, as he started to run. /

[pauses]

Ghost Writer: Must we end every scene with a terrible pun?

[the poem is closing with its last lines]

Danny Fenton: [narrating] And then I thought, maybe this is the moral. / In the same way my folks loved their old Christmas quarrel. / Everyone celebrates in the way of their choosing. / I was so busy whining, I started abusing / The ones I loved most and I ruined their cheer. /

[smiles]

Danny Fenton: I'll try to be better, come Christmas next year.

[thus ends the poem; Danny, Sam, Jazz and Tucker gather together at the last page which says "The End."]

Samantha "Sam" Manson: Um, nice sentiment, but what are you, a greeting card?

Tucker Foley: Yeah, why are you talking in rhyme?

Jazz Fenton: Such a dork.

Danny Fenton: [realizing] We're not talking in rhyme?

[starts getting jubliant]

Danny Fenton: We're not talking in rhyme!

[the book closes, and Ghost Writer is glad his new poem is finished. A cell mate inches close to him as he wants to look at the new book he has completed, but Ghost Writer turns away from him]

Walker: [greets him] Orange?

Ghost Writer: [scared] Aahh! Get that thing away from me!