From mirrors in strange places to stars ceasing to shine, friendships rekindle by fire’s light. Elsewhere, in a forgotten realm separated by a dream, a monster builds a tribute to himself. Prisoners are held, gifts are exchanged, and a kiss is a demon’s touch. The clock ticks toward twelve, but will it be morning or evening next? That question is not so easy to answer. Not for Bunson Bear nor for his new traveling companion. Elsewhere, flames of fire burn hot as a strangely aloof Lazar Lion presents his blue rose to a captive audience. Not to be outdone by a former friend and comrade in arms, Jingles presents his new toy to a friend not so near but very dear, so long as Jingles’s new boss doesn’t find out. Strange new friends join stranger old ones as Lazar, Jingles, and Bunson battle the pandemic that is the Shadow Tree. Joined in the fight against Captain M.T. and his monstrous marvels are Sylvester Alexander Koala, Abner Pennster, Sgt. Jack Thompson, Sgt. Joseph Smith, Sgt. Martin Stephens, and a host of Waterford’s best (and worst) citizens. Their ultimate goal? Dethrone Captain M.T. as would-be world ruler and send him and the curse of the Shadow Trees to hell once and for all.

Walking in circles, friendships will abound. With an eye toward heaven, angels around about. Found upon the sands, tinted glasses which help to see. Yesterday comes quickly. Where will we be? A star held dear, it will ring a silent chime. Stand tall in your faith. As a giant, be humble and oh so very kind. Long after death, a path will be seen. Words are most deadly. Listen, don't speak. Temptation will be offered. Let the curtains be sewn shut. A fortune for the sinner. Joints no longer rust. Roses colored black. Others will be blue. Many strings will be pulled. The scent will be true. Hidden in the shadows, paper will unfold. Eyes will be sleepy. A transformation will be bold. The truth in a tear frozen from the sky. Aligned past the suns, it burns very bright. All exits covered. Prayers, each and every heard. Not one but two of each. His is the Word.

The jack-o'-lanterns, with their wicked smiles and evil glares, are gone for another year. The turkey are happy to announce that Thanksgiving has come and gone. There are few to be seen. Inside all the houses of Waterford, trees are being raised and decorated from top to bottom with sparkling lights, hanging bulbs for kitties to swat, and candies to fill many a dream. Such was the case in the Lion house one late December day until Jack, the policeman, knocked on the front door. Then, the season