If you've been watching tv, you've seen plenty of commercials for Christmas specials. And they're ridiculous. My favorite one so far has been the ABC Family commercial where [cartoon] Moose #1 is laying face down in the snow while Moose #2 looks on, stony faced, yet befuddled, and says--
"You're a moose. You can't fly." At this point I was doing that I-really-want-to-laugh-hysterically-but-I'm-not-sure-it's-a-joke-but-doesn't-that-make-it-funnier? thing.
To this, Moose #1 responds defiantly and full of false, illogical hope, "Nothing can stop me!"
Then I heard that in the UK, they're trying to make Santa skinny, to be a better role model. And then I saw Toys Story 3, which was just like a cynical thought I had jokingly expressed, so I thought that if these could become movies and specials, I could make one!
And so here is the script of my Christmas special. (And I CAN make a Christmas special, despite my whole not-celebrating-Christmas-thing. That makes it easier, actually. You'll understand once you've read this.)
At Rise: A fireplace in a cozy home. Decorated Christmas tree to the left of the fire.
We hear a rumbling from above in the chimney. Soot begins to fall onto unlit logs in the fireplace from above. A moment passes. Santa, with gut so large that the buttons on his red coat look like they might fly off, lands in the fireplace, a foot on either side of the log holding thing. He ducks out of the fireplace, stands up tall, and gazes out onto the scene of the living room with an eager smile.
Santa: Ho, ho, ho!
Santa takes his bag of presents and chucks it carelessly across the room. Back bent and fingers curved, he looks around excitedly at the table and on the floor by the tree.
Santa: What's this? No cookies? Are you kidding me? I come all this way for no cookies. Total crap.
Looks around, shoulders slumped, in a defeated stance. His neck moves as he looks for something to cheer him up. He sees the kitchen.
Santa: Well, I guess they mean to serve myself.
Waddles into kitchen, and opens fridge. He sees chocolate and immediately shovels it into his mouth. He then pulls out bacon strips. He fries the bacon. He turns of the stove, and carefully picks up the strip of greasy bacon, and bites into it.
Santa: Mmm, just how I like it--all cholesterol.
Santa moves his hand to take a second bite of bacon, but before he can, his eyes widen. His hands clutch at his heart for a few moments. Santa makes some panicked, unintelligible noises. He falls backward. The last second of his fall are in slow motion. As his body is hitting the ground, the camera closes up on his arm, which has splayed to the side. Still in slow motion, we see the bacon drop from his hand.
The Next Morning
Two young children, six and eight years old, a boy and a girl respectively, in onesies pajamas run frantically down the stairs, nearly bursting with excitement. They scurry to their living room and see a large red bag. Confused, they look at each other. They go back to staring at the bag. The boy notices a trail of grease and melted snow leading to the kitchen. He taps the shoulder of his sister and points to the trail. They follow the liquid to the kitchen, where Santa is laying sprawled on the floor. The stare uncomprehendingly at him for a moment, and the girl lets out a bloodcurdling scream.
Boy: No! No! This can't be happening! No! My presents!
Camera pans out, then fades, the last sounds being the tears and yells of the small children. We hear the girl saying, "Why did he have to be so fat?"
So, whatcha' think? I was going for a scarred for life effect. I think I hit my mark, what about you?
Your Joyous Blogger,