She sighed. Why is this so hard? she asked herself.

Casey McDonald was standing at the counter of Best Buy, staring long and hard through the glass at the digital cameras.

Ah, that's right…because I'm broke.

Christmas was nearing, and Casey wanted to give her mom an extra special gift. However, since her firing from Smelly Nelly's, her income was, well, a little lacking. But what could she do? She'd already applied at the local Wal-Mart's and pharmacies. After getting no response from them, she even tried getting a job at McDonald's.

How great would that be? "Hi! Yes, my last name is McDonald. No, I'm not in any way related to the founders of this place. Yeah, it's hilarious. 'McDonald working at McDonald's'. Wow, sir…you sure are original. Now do you, or do you not, want fries with that?"

But—thank heavens—she was declined the job position. Still, she was getting desperate. Even her stepbrother Derek had supposedly finished all of his holiday shopping. Yeah, Derek! Mr. "Damn-Straight-This-World-Revolves-Around-Me". Then again, his idea of holiday shopping may have been getting gifts just for him. And Marti, of course. She'd probably disown him if he didn't get her anything. George would probably shake his head with that "Derek will be Derek" look. Nora would pretend it didn't matter, but secretly be crushed inside. Edwin's gift would be a coupon for one free punch or something. Lizzie would get one of Derek's old, broken hockey sticks.

And Casey? Probably a nice insult about her outfit or hair. Nothing less would be expected.

"Can I help you with something, ma'am?" a store clerk asked.

Casey's head snapped up. Ma'am? she thought bitterly. Do I look like I'm 30? However, she held her tongue. It was the holidays, after all.

"Yeah…how much for that black one in the corner?" she asked, pointing to the sleek Kodak digital camera.

Her mom had been obsessing about digital cameras ever since Mrs. Davis had shown off her new $2,200 one. It was insane, really, because unless she was preparing to become a professional photographer or going to do some serious spying on the neighbors, Casey couldn't imagine why anyone would want one that high-tech and expensive. Her mom agreed, thankfully, but admitted that it'd be nice to have one around the house for memory-capturing. So, after talking with George, Casey decided she'd be the one to get her mom a nice camera for Christmas.

That was before she suddenly became unemployed. Now all she could do was stare longingly and question just how bad, really, a quick couple jobs on the city streets would be…

"Ah, yes," the clerk began, removing the camera from the glass case. "This one's been going fast. Nice selection, indeed, ma'am."

Casey rolled her eyes and held her tongue yet again. "Can I see it?"

He eyed her suspiciously. "Can't you see it from here?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Yes, thanks, but I'd like to see how it works."

"Oh, so you'd like to hold it."

"Um, yeah, I guess that's what I'm getting at. Can I?"

The clerk gave her a look. You know that look; the one that says, "I hate to burst your bubble, but—oh, who am I kidding. Like I give a crap about you or your bubble." He gently set the camera down and folded his hands together. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but unless you're buying it—and I need to literally see the money—you're not allowed to touch the merchandise."

"And that's great, sir, but it'd only be for a couple seconds. And you'd be right there!" she replied, pointing at his position behind the desk. She sighed and tried to reason with him. "See, I'm trying to find the perfect gift for my mother…"

Mr. Ma'am gave her a tight smile, and replied curtly, "Then may I suggest Joann Fabrics?"

That was it. Casey McDonald had had enough. She slapped her palms down on the glass counter and leaned over, getting right in his face. "Listen, mister, I'm sick of you people—you-you…jerks!" Oh, yeah. When it came to insults, Casey McDonald was the master. "How freaking hard is it to hand over the damn camera and just LET me SEE it?!"

His tight smile faltered, eyes narrowing. He stiffly backed away, walking towards his desk. Once there, he reached a hand under and pressed a red button. His smile returned while he stood there, arms crossed over his chest.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but you have to come with me," a deep voice came from behind, not too long after.

"I am SEVENTEEN! Seventeen you MORONS!" she cried. She spun around, only to find herself thump against someone's chest. As she looked up at the guy in the blue uniform, she immediately recognized him.

"You?!" she screeched.