“Elves. Don't ask. What's your news?”

Julie jiggled around in her chair with delight. "Oh, Jane. It's so neat! You know who Lance King is?"

“Lance K— oh, yes, that 'action reporter' on television. What's so exciting? Did somebody bump him off?"

“Bump him off? Oh, Jane, you're joking, right? You're so funny!"

“What about Lance King?"

“Well, you know he does all those reports on unfair stuff. Crooked businesspeople and sham charity organizations and all? But he sometimes hosts the regular nightly news from special events."

“Yes, I know.”

Julie was quivering with excitement and looked like she was about to explode with the thrill of it all. "Well, Jane. We are going to be his special event tomorrow night!" Her voice was almost a shriek of joy.

“What?" Jane asked, appalled.

“Yes, it's true. He's going to anchor the news from your house! From your very own house!”

“Oh, dear God…" Jane whimpered.

“Isn't it fabulous? I knew you'd be so excited."

“Julie, I don't think that's—" Jane started to bleat.

“No, don't thank me. It was a pleasure to do it. I just took myself in hand and said, 'Julie Newton, there's nothing to stop you. The worst that can happen is that he'll say no,' and so I just called the television station and they actually put me through to him. I told him about the neighborhood caroling party and even suggested it would be a nice change, to do a 'revealing' piece about something that went right instead of wrong. I told him all about the neighbors, what nice, interesting people they all are—"

“You told him all about us?" Jane asked.

The thought made her stomach hurt. She, and many others, thought Lance King was far and away the most obnoxious individual who ever got in front of a television camera. He was the expert at the surprise attack, taking a camera crew to some unsuspecting individual's home or place of business, shoving his way in, and asking 'Do you still beat your wife' questions and berating the victim, barely skirting FCC regulations on obscene language issues.