The exercise:
The countdown to Christmas continues with: Frosty (capitalization optional).
We're heading out tomorrow morning, so the next few days will consist of scheduled posts here. Which will require me to get some more writing done tonight, seeing as I've only got Thursday's down on paper so far.
Mine:
Frosty watched the two elves approach as he eased himself back and forth in his rocking chair on his front porch. Unaware of his presence - coal proved to provide excellent night vision, much to his surprise and completely unbeknownst to anyone else - the elves appeared anxious as they spoke in hushed tones.
"It's only three days to Christmas," he heard the one called Rita (or was it Barbara?) say. "What will we do if don't find him?"
"We will," the one called Martin... Marcel? Whatever his name, that's what he said. "We have to."
"One of your donkeys go missing?" Frosty called out, startling them both.
"For the last time," Miguel said, hands on hips, "they're called reindeer. And no, they're all accounted for."
"A fellow munchkin then?" Frosty somehow blew several perfect smoke rings in their general direction while he spoke.
"Elves, you tarted up igloo," Rosa countered. "We're all here too."
"Sure you haven't lost one or two in the cracks of the woodshed? I've always thought I could fit a dozen of you in there."
"This is a waste of time," Miguel said, turning away.
"Who's gone missing then?" Frosty asked, barely resisting the temptation to suggest it might be the Wizard of Oz.
"Santa."
"Really? How intriguing." Frosty fell silent for a few moments before adding, "Well if you're in need of a replacement on the Big Donkey Ride, I'd love to help out."
3 comments:
Frosty seems interesting! I quite like the idea that snow doesn't really help out with brainpower, despite the advantage of coal-vision. And the Big Donkey Ride is just awesome! There's a children's book hiding in here somewhere, I'm sure of it.
(Oh and your last lines? I knew Rosa was a killer!)
Frosty
Carl had lowered the oven, taken ten minutes to finish par-boiling the potatoes and stick them in a roasting tin with some goose fat and put them in the oven too, and only then started helping Santa get kitted out for an Elf hunt. Santa had found his armoured suit, which sadly wouldn't pack away as neatly as his fat suit, and so was creased.
"I look ridiculous," said Santa, turning this way and that in front of the full-length mirror in his bedroom. "Look, I've got weird creases over my bum!"
"They're not creases, that's the rolls of fat," said Carl. He ducked, and Santa's hand swished over the top of his head. "You're going on the naughty list yourself for that!"
"I'm not fat. Even despite your cooking. You feeder, you."
"And the creases don't matter. This isn't a photo-op, Santa, this is a seek'n'destroy mission. You have to find this Elf and kill it, before it finds anyone and kills them."
"We."
"Huh?"
"We, Carl. I'm not doing this alone."
Carl looked appalled. "Oh no, Santa. We agreed last year! No more!"
"I'm sorry Carl, but can we take any chances?"
"But... but... No! Santa!"
"Carl."
Looking both miserable and petulant Carl stamped over to the wardrobe and pulled another suit out, this one slightly smaller but better folded, and shook it out. As he pulled it on over his head it hummed slightly as it pressurised and inflated, and two minutes later Santa was joined in front of the full-length mirror by Frosty the Snowman.
Except that Frosty isn't commonly depicted holding a basting syringe in one hand and a panga in the other.
"I don't know what's more scary," said Santa after a moment. "I think it might be the idea that you're going to give the Elf an enema with that thing." He looked pointedly at the syringe.
"It's for the television Christmas special," said Carl. "Let's just do this thing. I have reindeer roasting."
Um... Frosty eh well, thankfully it’s winter so... *grin*
Frosty
Noah and Tina huddled together, watching the scene below unfold, hoping no one would notice the sock in the tree.
“Frosty the snowman,” one girl began to sing as she started rolling up snow. “Was a Fair...”
SPLAT a snowball knocked into her head.
“Alicia cut it out!” she rounded on her sister.
“Well then you shouldn’t be singing Christmas songs in January, Julia!” Alicia taunted as she lobbed another snowball at her sister.
“MOM!” Julia cried out.
The woman turned and sighed. “Back in the car, both of you!”
“BUT!”
“Now,” the woman turned a stern look upon her children.
Greg - I'll have to add The Big Donkey Ride to my ideas list :D
Great way to include Frosty into your story, I very much approve :)
Elor - hah, I really made this week hard on you with the prompts, didn't I? Entirely unintentional, but you managed very nicely :D
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