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I just saw a story on Facebook about a guy who started a GoFundMe to replace an inflatable Frosty the Snowman that got stabbed by a random attacker in the middle of the night.*
*Ed. Note: This happened in Soulard, a very popular, and very drunken nightlife spot in St. Louis. I would expect no less than someone drunkenly stabbing a snowman from that part of town. – Rob
There must be some festive gang war going on, because our house snowman was killed in cold blood last night too.
Take a look at this brutal slaying:
That’s exactly what we would have recorded happening to our snowman if the security cameras on the front of the house weren’t fake.
I’m pretty perturbed by the whole situation. We have a yearly Christmas tradition where we go to Walmart, buy a sleigh-load of beers, drink them, and decorate a tree we cut down from the school landscaping with empties.
This year, I picked up an inflatable, light-up Olaf from Frozen on an impulse buy. It was twenty bucks, and I decided to sacrifice a 30 rack to have arguably the most annoying conversation piece in the neighborhood on our lawn. It’s all about owning the real estate.
After a few days, all the guys in my house got attached to Olaf. He felt like he was just another member of the family. I even taped a little santa hat on him.
So when I stumbled outside one frosty morning and saw scraps of polyester snowman all over the lawn, my heart melted. I trudged over to his slumped, deflated corpse, a crooked smile still frozen on his face.
I fell to my knees, sobbing. Some guys came outside.
“He only…he only wanted warm hugs…” I cried, torn pieces of fabric streaming from my hands.
One guy shrugged.
“I’m glad he’s dead.”
“We have to find the bastards that did this!”
Another guy in the doorway sipped his morning beer.
“I think this what they call a ‘cold case’.”
This is why we can’t have nice things. Goodbye, Olaf. You were too good for this world..