In the midst of one of Prospect-L's on-going discussions about holidays and religion, Francesca wrote:

> PS If Major Crimes has a Christmas tree, I'll bet my ass that the
> *detectives* didn't sit around decorating it, one ornament at a time and
> singing. They got clerks and secretaries and aides and building managers
> for that sort of thing. They ain't us, okay?

The unofficial mascot of Prospect-L popped into my head and, well . . . as you see:


The Return of You-Know-Who
(c) Beth H
December 2000

"Oh, come on," the nominally Jewish, not-quite-detective whined, "It'll be fun!"

"Hey, Chief," said the big, buff, former-Ranger as he walked into the squad room, "Lay off him. You've been bugging everyone all day about decorating this tree, and everyone's refused. What makes you think *he's* going to want to help you out with this?"

"I don't spirit?" Blair sighed, "Oh, Jim, I just wish everyone could be as enthusiastic about everything as I am. And just look at him...look at his arms...I mean, he's gotta be a natural at this decorating thing, man!"

"Sort of surprised to hear that kind of thing coming out of you, Sandburg. It's not really like you to make assumptions based on appearance, is it?

"Holy Turnabout, Jim!," exclaimed the much-younger sidekick to his crimefighting hero partner and friend. "Thanks for reminding me!"

"Not a problem," said Ellison, "That's what friends are for."

But the woeful look on Blair's face quickly convinced the detective that he'd got it wrong...again. "Oh, what the hell, Chief. You want to ask the new guy one more time to help you out with this thing, be my guest."

"Thanks, Jim! You know, it's times like this that I really remember why I fell in l..."


"Damn. Right. Not at the office. Not at the office. Sorry. Forgot, man."

"Yeah, yeah...just try to remember next time."

"I'll try, Jim. Really, I will!" With that, the beaming former grad student turned his attention back to the newest member of Major Crimes,

"So what about it, man? Will you help with the tree?"

But Detective Cthulhu the Giant Squid shook his head," Sorry Sandburg, I've gotta get home. Ruthie'd coat me in batter and deepfry me if I wasn't home in time for the lighting of the menorah."

"What!" Blair exclaimed, disbelief written plainly on his face, "You can't be Jewish!"

"No, I can't be kosher, Blair," chuckled the Giant Squid, as he walked out the door, "But I am Jewish."


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