It's taken him the better part of the day, but Alex thinks he's finally - finally - managed to get those goddamn gremlin things off his back. He's still darting infrequent looks over his shoulder, frowning, paranoid that those damn goblins will come cackling back to fuck up whatever it is he's doing next. Just like old times, almost.

He's hiding out in the kitchen, for now - plenty of distractions and handily sharp objects should those little fuckwads come crawling out of the woodwork. He's expecting them to come at him any minute. Any minute now.

What he doesn't expect is a surprise visit from a gun-toting raccoon resplendent in a red and white Santa costume, and he promptly jumps in alarm.

"What the - " He adjusts his grip on whatever this...thing is, frowning at it in trepidation. It's shiny and metallic and vaguely gun-shaped, which for some reason is making him sick to his stomach, and not in a fun way. "What is this?"