By Collin Emery
“Ahhh!” shouted a pugnacious snowman.
“What is it?” answered Mistletoe and the schizophrenic strawberry.
“It’s my damn ulcer! If the Grinch hadn’t tricked me in to kissing his mother, I wouldn’t have had this problem!” The snowman was growing tired with each huff, the pain and lack of sleep had become increasingly taxing.
“It’s too late for that now, is it not?” A voice snarled from the shadows in a manner all too familiar to the snowman. As if by magic, a ghastly green beast emerged from the shadows.
“You happy Hot Carl! You have nerve showing your face here, after what you’ve done.” The schizophrenic strawberry, after insulting the Grinch, began to charge him.
The snowman used the hand not clenched onto his stomach to stop the goober. “No, Strawberry,” said the snowman “you must stop hate, and not entangle yourself in this zugzwang!”
The strawberry looked up confusedly.
“Nonsense!” chirped the Grinch “I would love to get my paws on another whistle-punk who thinks he’s indomitable.” The Grinch spread a wide smile. You could see he had busted teeth from an incident on a trampoline.
“C’mon! Let me at him!” said the strawberry still attempting to break free from the snowman.
The Grinch responded with, “I think your friend there is about to suffer from syncope.”
“What is it you want?” the snowman uttered quietly.
“I’ve come to make amends and repair our friendship.” The Grinch’s grin faded into an empathetic frown.
“I would rather have bariatric surgery and glaucoma while eating forked rhubarb than gain your fidelity!” the snowman boomed.
The Grinch gasped at the remark. He would need to go shopping eight hours for Zydeco music to counteract the Snowman’s offense.
“You tell him Frosty,” the mistletoe muttered under his breath. The catapult enthusiast weirdo in the corner then decided that this was newsworthy. He’d been watching the group quarrel from the shadows, catapult at his side. He would have to be careful about this.
“I’m going to schtoop your mother, and then feed her moist vertigo cookies!” The Grinch shouted angrily.
Before Frosty could respond, he caught a glimmer out of the corner of his eye. He glanced in the direction and saw a shadow dwelling man, the silhouette of a catapult next to him.
“We have been seen!” exclaimed the snowman. Simultaneously, the creatures ran from their spot, and into the night.
“Oh, stockings,” proclaimed the man “that’s the third time this night!” He had already begun to pack up his trusty trebuchet and essential oils, so that he may find another chance to capture the mythical beings.