A blinding light engulfs the mountain. Right before the sun rose (well, there was no sun to rise, but), before any rational creature would wake, the blast shook everyone out of their stupor. What could it be? Where did it come from?
It didn't take much to find the source. In the very same living room they'd previously met in laid thirteen presents, one more opened. A red scarf and hat held the present's tag down.
From: Santa
To: Squirt
Don't open 'til Christmas! Ho-ho-ho!
While the wrapping paper lay in shambles and Metal Gear Solid 2 lay in the present box, the television turned itself on. A pre-recorded message like the last one began to play, though this voice sounded suspiciously like the type that would try to steal some Declaration of Independence. "Good morning, valued guests. As you're well aware, Santa has paid your cottage a visit. It's time we let you know the real deal.
"You see, our interdimensional analysis showed some among you to be the most likely to have killed Santa Claus. The very Santa of Squirt's world. You tried to ruin his Christmas, and much paperwork has been filed to clean up your mess. Therefore, we've gathered you all here to serve two purposes. First, the one you are all already aware of, and that's to give Squirt the happiest holiday he can have.
"We didn't pick just any child, though. No, Squirt is a well trained agent of the Interdimensional Holiday Committee. One of our very best. He is here to observe the results of this simulation and find the Grinch (or Grinches, or Grinchettes (though that last one's not very necessary since Grinch is hardly a gendered term—many grinch are women or even non-binary)) among you." No wind dared disturb Special Agent Squirt's scarf.
"Of course," the voice continued, "we did need to give Squirt a joyous holiday season. So, some of you really are only the very best partiers the multiverse has to offer, and you're under no suspicion. Please resume as you were and give Squirt the great time he deserves. Don't let his youth fool you, though. He's very capable."
Twelve unopened presents, one addressed to everyone in the room, all with the exact same warning as Squirt's. "Don't open 'til Christmas! Ho-ho-ho!" A yet unseen tree held a partridge, singing and feasting on the many pears among the branches.