"If you derail this fold, Santa Claus dies."
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"If you derail this fold, Santa Claus dies." Gun pointed at Santa, I had gotten desperate. If saving FoldStory from derailed narratives meant destroying Christmas, then so be it.
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The radio station was still playing Christmas music two days later! Santa wasn't dead yet. I was relieved. Being a longtime folder, I thought the last week of the year 2016 was
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¡~¤#@$! - what with another death in the family. Life would never be the same. Life wasn't fair!" Luke was getting very cranky since he didn't get what he really wanted for xmas.
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"Weeee-l," Aunt Valetta drawled, "That's because you were bad all year, Lucas. On the upside, it appears you were named in the will." She handed Luke the letter from the estate.
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Luke read his late uncle's letter. "Dear Lucas, you are so unambitious and desireless, and so you shall be the executioner of my estate." Aunt Valetta topped the list of targets
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furiously, trying to find her name in the will. She couldn't believe that her brother, before dying, changed the letter and gave the rights to Lucas. Lucas? That lazy boy with
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two goats and a penchant for sunshine? How dare he. The entire estate should go to her. Now that Lucas would be in charge, she decided to dress like a goat, to get on his good side
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It turned out, Lucas had his own fursona, which was a sheep, as he possessed enough critical thinking to see through her.
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But she saw through him, first. "Sheep don't have fur, they have wool," she hissed. "Okay, so I have a woolsona," Lucas replied. "That's jist stupit!" she bellowed. But just then
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Her mother approached, dressed in a full blue dog fursuit. This mother started lambasting her, and she was miserable, I knew then why she was mean, so I defended her from her mom.
3
- Started
- 2016-12-27 12:54:49
- Finished
- 2020-04-09 18:16:49
4 Comments
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Rockdude2 Apr 09 2020 @ 18:23
Well we tried.
Flopp Apr 10 2020 @ 08:01
Santa's dead. And we killed him.
Woab Apr 10 2020 @ 16:16
Oh, I don't know. It holds together as a story which starts with a threat against xmas, continues through a rotten xmas for a rotten relative, saved by a rich uncle, but resented by a goat-dresser with a dog-dresser for a Mom, and a decent reason for that chip on her shoulders. Makes sense to me. So Santa lives. In all of us, really. Excuse me while I jump out of this fortieth story window.
BlastedHeath Apr 16 2020 @ 16:10
And may a flock of reindeers catch you as you fall. ;-)