 We are going to start tonight's reading with scpwiki.net slash Christmas, plainly Christmas. And this reading starts with a summary. 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 on 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 managed to get one done. E4D with kens and man. 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. Troy. No to snowmen. Susie later thought, as blood and bile oozed from the gash in her stomach, that thorn branches were a poor choice of arms. They had been what snared her with ease, the thick vines coiling around her wrist, tiny, dagger-like barbs digging into clothes first and 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 snowmen in the pinkish snow quickly removed such illusions. As her wound turned from hot pain to cold, she closed her eyes. Signed Troy. Well, that's a great start, Troy. Thank you. Thank you so much for the anomalous snowmen. Ah. Right. Story number two in the short story anthology series is a newspaper clipping. So let me show you guys what the newspaper clipping looks like. That's what we got. And now family torn apart by abduction on Christmas day. Picture of nine-year-old Tommy Henstridge taken by his parents on his blank birthday. Oh, taken on his birthday a few months before his mysterious disappearance. Boseman, Montana. Authorities announced that a mother and father in the town of Boseman are being charged with conspiracy to abduct a minor this evening, following the disappearance of nine-year-old Tony Henstridge. The young boy vanished from his home late Saturday night. Police reports indicate no other subjects had been identified. But point to a bloody trail leading to a chimney in the residence's family room, leading investigative officers to believe the attacker scaled down into the home, despite a lack of footprints in the snow outside. Jim Brown. Signed, Echo 4 Delta and Dr. Kens. Man, this is the child-murdered Christmas. Excellent. Ah. All right. Here we go. 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 love 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 have never 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. Signed, Dr. Man. Oh my lord. So let's continue on. 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 in a gift card for Best Buy. Saying 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 Future Shop. Signed, Salmon Corbett. An armadillo. What show was the Hanukkah Armadillo on? That was Friends, right? That was Ross Geller, the Hanukkah Armadillo. Right? I think so. That's my best guess. Yes, I see. Confirmation in the chat. Brilliant. Next up on our short... Oh, how many shorts do... Oh, there's a lot of shorts. Excellent. I have been alive in this state for about a week. And there are a couple things that I figured out. Firstly, I think I'm in a time chop loop. Because every 11 seconds, I wind up in the same place somehow. Second, chop, ow! Axe is really fucking hurt. And I feel one hacking at me all the time. Third, I'm 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 fish-eyed and all the damn snow that keeps falling. And the worst... No, no, no, no, chop! Bit is that my assailant isn't even human. In fact, other than his facial features, he's completely made of snow. Ah, chop, ah! And here we go again. Signed reject. 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 giddy as I 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 trampled, my leg broken. I can only think of how naïve I was about such wild animals. Signed toadking07. Oh, the foundation AM radio guys. Nice. Billy was over the moon. Christmas morning, and he was allowed to open one of his presents early. Sidebar, Christmas morning, isn't that when you open the presents normally? Or, I guess, nevermind, back to the story. As he pondered which present to open, he heard a voice from one of the boxes. Please, yes. 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 waking 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, Pesterbott. The man chuckled as he left the house. I'm sure you will. He's gone. 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 so clearly. This is the worst Christmas ever. Signed, S-T-H-9. Please, me, Ruffian! Pesterbott, one of the best characters on the site. Hands down.