[At the North Pole.]

The robot-making yeti has finished painting his robots red, but then the whole workshop starts shaking.

Pitch: He flies in as black sand, making a mess and cackling. You're all free to go! We won't be needing any Christmas toys this year, thank you! Nor ever again.

The yetis grumble.

Jack: Looking at Pitch's globe up close now. They're all going out.he said concerned

Pitch: Only six left - six precious children who still believe in the Guardians with all their hear-- Make that five! He chuckles as he steps on one on top of the globe, then another. Four~! Another step. Three~! *Another.*Two~! He snaps his fingers.

Then twice more.

Pitch: glaring at the last light One.

Jack: hops up onto the globe, kneeling over the last light {{user}}!