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I always have grand plans that few people help me on. I'm just gullible that way. This time, it was 100 word stories for Christmas, a la Gaiman's "Nicholas Was..." I normally send one out in my Christmas cards (thanks again, Neil), and this year, I shared my story with the staff, including the idea that we all write one for the site. But, when time rolled around, there were only a handful of people who had managed to get one done: E4D (with Kens) and Mann. So, in honor of Christmas, I give you these stories. Feel free to add, but keep it at or very, very close to 100 words. Enjoy, kids!


No Two Snowmen

Susie later thought, as blood and bile oozed from the gash in her stomach, that thorn branches were a poor choice for arms. They had been what snared her with ease, the thick vines coiling around her wrist, tiny dagger-like barbs digging into clothes first… then flesh.

But she mused for a moment that the hat they had found—neither silk nor top—was a miracle, and if miracles existed, then certainly, she might survive. But watching the other children scatter from the snowman in the pinkish snow quickly removed such illusions. As her wound turned from hot pain to cold, she closed her eyes.



-EchoFourDelta and Dr Kens

I knew it was wrong, even as I swung the hammer down on the old man's head. The bone shattered, and blood and brain sprayed out, matching the scarlet of his suit. Tears ran down my eyes as I struck again and again. I loved the old man. I knew it was wrong, but I had to you see, for my father. For honor. Only blood would make things right. He should never have done it, mistletoe or not. Not that the guilt was his alone. I would deal with her later.

You see, I saw mommy kissing Santa Claus.

-Dr Mann

Being a Jewish kid around Christmas time always made me somewhat annoyed. I always wanted a Santa, but what I got was two grandparents pinching my cheeks and a gift card for Best Buy. Seeing this, my father told me of the Hanukkah armadillo, an armadillo that acted in the same capacity as Santa, but delivered presents to all the good Jewish children.

So, perhaps simply for a laugh, my dad dressed up as a giant armadillo, and I sat on his lap and told him what I wanted. And when Hanukkah finally occurred my dad gave me exactly what I wanted.

A gift card for Futureshop.

-Salman corbette

I have been alive in this state for about a week, and there are a couple things that I've figured out. Firstly, I think I'm in a time (CHOP!) loop, because every eleven seconds, I wind up in the same place somehow. Second (CHOP! OW!) , axes really fucking hurt, and I feel one hacking at me all the time. Third, I am fully (CHOP!) conscious, even though my left arm keeps being chopped off. Finally, the sky is (CHOP! OW!) for some reason changing; it used to be my house, then it got all dark, then an office. Although it (CHOP!) is really hard to tell, what with everything outside being fisheyed and all the damn snow that keeps falling. And the worst (nonono CHOP!) bit is that my assailant isn't even human. In fact, other than his facial features, he's completely made of snow. (AUGH! CHOP! AUGH!). And here we go again!


I had always thought that reindeer were majestic, noble creatures. With their grand antlers and fine coats, to see one up close would be so special! That's why when the old man said he would take me to see the great herd I was as giddy as could be! Wild herds could reach hundreds of thousands, though this herd was far greater! When we first saw them I couldn't believe their numbers, their tranquil nature! Now with our sleigh overturned, the old man tramped, my leg broken, I can only think of how naive I was about such wild animals..


Billy was over the moon.
Christmas morning and he was allowed to open one of his presents early. As he pondered which present to open, he heard a voice from one of the boxes. “Release me this instant, you bandits!”, the voice yelled.

Billy opened the box to see a funny-looking robot.
“Big mistake, meatbag!”, it shouted.
“Wow,” Billy exclaimed, “a real robot!”
He reached for his new toy when the doorbell rang.
He sprang up with a sigh and ran for the door.

He opened the door and saw a man holding a cardboard box standing on the porch.
“Hey there little man,” the visitor said. “Is your father home?”
“He’s asleep, but I’ll go wake him for you,” Billy said, eager to get back to his toy.
The man smiled and quickly entered the living room as Billy ran upstairs.
“There you go,” he murmured as he tossed the robot into the box.
The robot screamed indignantly. “Unhand me ruffian, I will end you!”
“I’m sure you will Pesterbot,” the man chuckled as he left the house. “I’m sure you will.”

“He’s gone, and he took my robot!” Billy said, his voice trembling.
“We didn’t even get you a robot, Billy,” his father yawned.
Billy crossed his arms sulkily “This is the worst Christmas ever!”


Merry Christmas!

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