Fionna shot upright in the bed, sleeping bag pulling tight around her face. Another thump sent her rolling onto the floor, surprisingly quiet as she pried the sleeping bag off. She could still hear Cake snoring - the cat could sleep through near anything - as the third thump sounded from below.

Creeping over to the ladder, she peered down, trying to catch a glimpse maybe of the intruder. “Who would break into this house?” she wondered aloud, silently. Another thump, far quieter, sounded, and then a shuffling, like that of a bag dragging along the ground. The room was too open to move down the ladder quickly and undetected, so Fionna moved over to the window.

A chill wind hit her as she opened it, slowly so as to avoid it squeaking too loudly. The tree had few handholds on the exterior, the branches covered in thick leaves. She made it down, though, and soon was peering in through a window on the first level.

Moonlight gleamed off of it, and her eyes took time to adjust to the darker corner of the room. First she noticed the sack. A deep color - it was too dark to say precisely what - and obviously stuffed. The man, rather large, was pulling things out of it, and setting them on the floor in a heap. His giant beard made it rather hard to discern any other facial features, and the hat on his head hid the rest.

He glanced over at the window, and Fionna hurriedly ducked under it. She couldn’t see his smile, or the way he moved the itchy beard off his pale face for a second before replacing it, or the faint gleam of fangs. When she did look back inside, he was gone. But as she moved to climb back up to the window, she could see a lone figure flying across the sky.

Once inside, she woke Cake up. “What goin’ on?” the cat mumbled, bleary eyes trying, but not hard, to remain open.

“Some guy just left stuff in our house. Gifts, I think. Anyways, come on!” Fionna pulled the cat towards the ladder. “I want to see what’s inside them!” Cake mumbled a response, lost in the clatter as Fionna slid down the ladder. Two stacks were on the floor, each marked with signs saying ‘Fionna’ and ‘Cake.’

The colorful wrapping shredded away to reveal a pair of throwing axes. “Totally math,” whispered Fionna. The next box had a target in it. Cake opened one of hers, finding an odd tube inside. Pressing a button on it, the wall suddenly sported a red dot. Dropping the tube to pounce, the dot disappeared. Cake picked it up aiming at the floor, and pressed the button. She was entranced the whole while as Fionna finished off her own pile. Sitting back, the girl noticed a card on the ground.

“Dear Fionna and Cake,
In response of your good deeds, you have been given these gifts. Every year I give them to all the nice people in Ooo. Keep up the good work. P.S. I really enjoy cranberry juice and strawberries, if you have any.” It didn’t have a signature. But it didn’t really need to. The next day, when Marshal woke up, he found a glass of cranberry juice outside his door, and a litle note that simply read, “Thank you.”