Thursday, September 21, 2006

Frosty, RIP

Frosty the snowman was a jolly, happy soul. He had to leave his friends and move to Antarctica so that he wouldn’t melt. This is the tragic tale of Frosty’s demise.

Frosty missed his youthful friends, and started getting depressed. To find an outlet for his depression, he started playing with fire. Soon he was hooked, and became a pyromaniac. Sometimes his fires would melt him, but it was ok, because as long as his hat didn’t burn, and his penguin friends were there to build him up again, he was fine. His fires kept getting bigger and bigger, and because there wasn’t much burnable stuff in Antarctica, he soon ran out of fuel. This was bad, because it meant that he had no outlet to take out his depression on. He decided to try other ways to deal with his inner darkness that he felt growing inside himself.

First, he tried cutting himself. Seeing as he was a snowman, this really didn’t work. He started sitting in his igloo with the lights turned off, crying in the dark listening to sad, angry music, but that didn’t help either. Finally, he thought he had found something to help him feel better. He would build snow sculptures of other snowmen, and then he would repeatedly beat their heads till they were destroyed. But soon this soothing feeling this gave him started to become less and less satisfying. He found his thought continually turning back to fires. What could he burn? Suddenly, tragedy struck as an oil rig crashed right into the coast where Frosty was standing. Suddenly, there was black snow that would burn! So did the oil coated penguins, and Frosty had a great time watching them running around trying to put themselves out. But only three had actually gotten oil on themselves, so that only lasted a little while.

The Penguins were angered by Frosty’s evil treatment of their brothers, so they hatched a plot for revenge! That night, while Frosty slept, the penguins built a new snowman body out of the oil-tainted snow, and put Frosty’s hat on its head. The next morning, he woke up to find out that he was black. When the penguins saw that Frosty was awake, they pulled out his box of matches and showed it to Frosty.

“Sorry guys,” frosty said. “The most I can do is light the match and watch it burn.” So he did. No one is sure how, but somehow that match came in contact with Frosty’s new black body. He went up in flames and was completely consumed, hat, button-nose and all in a great pillar of flames.

And that is the end to our tragic tale. Some say that if you sail past the beach where he was burned that you can still hear his screams echoing over the sea. Zoologists have reported seeing a flaming figure with a corncob pipe walking among the penguin flocks at night, setting the birds aflame. Will our friend Frosty ever find peace? It seems we’ll never know. Thus ended that great living snowman who was friend to all children, and a pyro till the end.


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