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Christmas stories!! With prizes and everything!! <3

guardianofthestars posted this thread...
Oct. 12, 2012 at 11:30 am

Deadline:25th December 2012
Take any famous Christmas character (Santa, Frosty, Tiny Tim, Dasher or Dancer ect.) and write about one Christmas they spent from their point of view (or in other words this is going to be first person). If your character isn't as widely known please let me clearly know who they are so I can look them up.
Best of show: 5- 5 star ratings and 5 comments on his/her stories
1st: Place:4-ratings on and4 comments on his/her works
2nd Place: 3- ratings and 3 comments on his/her works
3rd Place: 2- ratings and 2 comments his/her works
Runner up: 1- rating and 1 comment on his/her work
AGAIN: DEADLINE IS 25 December 2012
I look forward to reading your stories!! :D

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Sharkgirl replied...
Oct. 30, 2012 at 10:18 pm

I'm gonna do it this weekend

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Sharkgirl replied...
Nov. 4, 2012 at 4:49 pm

Is it ok if the story is just made-up on the spot

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Nov. 4, 2012 at 9:34 pm

guardianofthestars: since you won the love story parody contest, what do you want votes and comments on?

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Ethereal replied...
Nov. 6, 2012 at 10:47 am

(hope you like my interpretation of this contest)
Yeti's Christmas
Christmas was never "merry" for Yeti.  Christmas was just another day of being hunted; blending in, eating reindeer... didn’t anybody understand he was a carnivore? Maybe if someone gave him tuna he wouldn’t eat all the reindeer. 
“Reindeer too tough anyway. Yeti want some tuna... or a sock monkey... “
He mumbled to himself in his cave. But Santa never came to Yeti.  Something about eating Blitzen once upon a time seemed to make Santa mad, so Yeti didn’t get gifts anymore.
“Yeti just want to be good, Yeti just want sock monkey.”
He moaned, scuffling out of his cave. He was hungry, and he smelled food.  Yeti dragged himself up a hill to get a better view, but then remembered it was Monday.  Yeti hated Mondays, Mondays were Santa’s “ everybody take a day off and hunt Yeti day.”  He groaned again, he could see some elves approaching with Nerf cannons.  Why they thought shooting small foam Velcro bullets at him was a good idea, Yeti did not know.  He did know Velcro bullets were a pain to get out your fur.
Especially hundreds of them.
            Yeti groaned again, and galloped down the hill, back to his cave. A few bullets hit him, and he could he the frenzied yells of jubilant elves that thought they’d mortally wounded him. 
Yeti crawled into his cave, wistfully glancing at the mailbox.  He never got mail. Santa’s was always full of letters from spoiled kids asking for ponies, but his? He was pretty sure the red flag was frozen into a constant state down-ness.  He opened the mailbox, just to make sure.  Yeti did his best interpretation of a squeal; (which sounded more like a dying dinosaur than a small rodent) there was a letter! A crumpled up, nearly frozen scrap of paper, but it was better than the exploding ketchup bottle the elves had sent him once.  He reached in the box with his big blue hand, and began to read.
Dear mister abominabubble snowman:
I thought you wood be lonly, so a sent you present, I droo it my self. 
Love, Izzy
            The letter was scrawled out in big, six-year-old handwriting, but Yeti didn’t mind.  Big tears trickled down his cheek, turning to ice cubes as the fell.  It was the first time yeti had gotten a Christmas present, and it was just what he had asked for.  On the back, there was a roughly drawn picture of a sock monkey.  Yeti smiled.
It was just what he had asked for.

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Sharkgirl replied...
Dec. 2, 2012 at 4:26 pm

i don't  know maybe

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moonissunguy replied...
Dec. 4, 2012 at 1:28 pm

can it be a poem?

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iamiggy98 replied...
Dec. 9, 2012 at 6:32 pm

Two days from Christmas and the Littlest Tree was still at the tree yard. Only two feet in stature, the Littlest Tree was too small for every family that came, no matter how soft her needles were or how she never let them fall all over the floor. She knew that her dream to be the best Christmas tree she could for a family would never come true, because once Christmas passed, she would be sent to the Chipper, and no one ever came to get a tree this close to Christmas. She sighed, sounding much like the wind blowing through her branches.
The Littlest Tree shuddered at the thought of the Chipper. She did not want to go just yet, not when her dreams had not come true. She just HAD to be there for a christmas morning, to see all the children squeal with joy at their presents and treats.
Realizing she dropped some of her needles onto the floor when she had shivered, the Littlest Tree started to cry tears of sap. She was a little less beautiful, she thought, because she had lost some of her soft, delicate needles. Because her branches were a little less full now. Oh, how she wished someone would take her home!
The Littlest Tree cried herself to sleep that night, wishing upon a rare Christmas shooting star, for just one more chance to be taken home. Little did she know that someone had heard her pleas.
In the morning, much to the Littlest Tree's surprise, she awoke tied to the roof of a car! She wanted to squeal with joy, only that was silly because a tree could not squeal. The Littlest Tree's dreams would come true! She would get to see the happy faces of children as they opened their presents, smell the Christmas ham baking, an oh, joy, she would hear the christmas carols sung by the entire family!
The Littlest Tree's dream finally were true on Christmas morning, when the children ran down the stairs cherring and singing to see the decorated tree with presents all around.
It was a special christmas for everyone, especially the Littlest Tree.

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Dec. 19, 2012 at 8:58 pm

((I submitted this to multiple Christmas story contests)).
The Intern Sleigh-Driver  
I was backed up against a building wall with eight reigndeer growling at me. The furry red suit was too large on me, and it smelled like burnt cookies. My chocolate brown hair, which had been back in braids for the ride, had blown our of control and was a jumbled mess on my head. I'd had to take my earbuds out to drive the sleigh, and my stomach was queasy from the crash. But, I suppose this is why Santa keeps a backup sleigh with enough magic to fit in his pocket.   
I sighed loudly, and Prancer snorted. "I know, I know. I'm just a teenage girl; I don't know how to work the sleigh. We're stuck here," I told him miserably. "And I don't know when Santa and his hocus pocus magic will come back, if he comes back at all." Dasher whinnied and stamped his foot, and I silently pleaded that he wasn't about to charge me and spear me to death with those antlers of his.  
I'm Santa's intern, hired last year on Christmas morning, and this was my first year on the job. I was supposed to take the passenger seat in the sleigh and do any high speed emergency repairs on the gift bags in the back. But there was a slight malfunction that I couldn't fix...  
See, Santa's sleigh runs on battery power, no reigndeer required, and the old guy's getting a little forgetful. He never remembered to change the batteries after last year, and they died. He went down somewhere over the Atlantic, tossing me the back up sleigh as he fell. He'd said multiple times that he had a lifeboat on board, but I couldn't help but suspect that he was just saying that to reassure me that we weren't going to drown.  
A car peeled around the corner, stopping short at the eight reigndeer in the road. I was no good at driving a sleigh, so I experienced my second unnerving sleign crash about an hour before in San Fransisco. I didn't know how to hook up the reigndeer, and I still had to go half way around the world before morning.   
The driver peered out of his volkswagon. "Hey! What's a teenager doing on Christmas Eve after midnight with the zoo's reigndeer?"   
I searched for a reply. "I'm um... um, er, well--" But then, I didn't have to. Because that was when Santa decided to strike, and if you've ever been knocked out by da old, fat guy who's high on sugar, milk, and caffeine, it's not pretty. The driver was out cold by the time Santa reached me. "So you did have a life raft," I said gleefully. A jolly laugh erupted from his belly.  
"You did good, kid," Santa told me, and I beamed.   
"But sir," I stuttered, "I crashed your sleigh."  
Santa grinned beneath his bushy white beard and put his hand on my shoulder. "Well of course you did," he told me. "First of all, it was the back up sleigh. I'm the only one who ever crashes the real sleign. Second of all, everyone crashes this thing on their first time driving, but only the best make it out alive."  
I couldn't tell whether or not he was joking, nor did it cross my mind how he had gotten out of the Atlantic so quickly, but I quickly elected to wait until after Christmas to ask him these things. 
((I submitted this to a different Christmas story contest as well))

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Dec. 19, 2012 at 9:15 pm

Reigndeer Caribou, Caribou Reigndeer
The grass was buried beneath a crust of frozen, white powder, deep enough that my muzzle was coated with snow and ice when reached down for the freshest morsels. My hooves stamped against the ground, listening to the rhythmic jingle of approaching bells.
My ears perked. Bells?
I looked up with my clear, black eyes, arching my neck against the weight of my antlers. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of a tiny, red sleigh, tugged through the sleigh by seven reigndeer.
Hmph, I snorted. He comes around 'bout this time every year, looking for new recruits. The old, beared guy in the furry red suit lashed the reigns, and his sleigh glided across a frozen pond, halting just before me. The old man's deep voice rang out in the chilly air. 
"Why, he's just what we've been looking for!"
Shoot, I thought, just barely processing what's going on when the man began to saddle me up, despite my protests. 
"No!" I shouted, though I doubt he understood me. "You've got the wrong guy! I'm a caribou, not a reigndeer!"
He chuckled, a jolly laugh that dissipated as it touched the air. "Reigndeer, caribou; caribou reigndeer. Same species."
He hooked me up to the sleigh. "Our eighth reigndeer. "Dancer!" he called, and the others acknowledged me. I'd always found it creepy that he named his reigndeer the same thing every year when he came around. And as we take to the sky with a sprinkle of Christmas magic, I reflect on the life of bristly grass behind me and the life of a warm barn with companions and easy feed in front of me, and I consider, Maybe pulling the sleigh around once a year is small compensation for the pampering and joy of the life I will live on the other 364 days of the year.

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guardianofthestars replied...
Dec. 27, 2012 at 10:01 am

GRAND PRIZE (4 comments and ratings) The First Christmas; Non-Sibi-Sed-Patriae
FIRST PLACE (3 comments and ratings) Reigndeer Caribou, Caribou Reigndeer; AthenaMarisaDeterminedbyFate
SECOND PLACE(2 comments and ratings) "The Littlest Christmas Tree"; iamiggy98
THIRD PLACE (1 comment and rating) Yet's Christmas; Ethereal
THANK YOU ALL FOR ENTERING!!! HOPE YOU ALL HAD A MERRY CHRISTMAS!!! Please post what stories or art work you'd like me to look at. :)

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Dec. 27, 2012 at 10:48 am

Could you check out Your Eyes, Sanity, and The Final Intentions of Lucifer Malone? Thanks!

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guardianofthestars replied...
Dec. 27, 2012 at 10:59 am

Yeah, Battle-Colors. When you have more work put up just post them here or on our 1X1 thread where I will see them.

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24601 replied...
Dec. 27, 2012 at 11:15 am

thanks! just check out whatever you want, stars :)

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