This week's Trifecta Writing Challenge: The entry must be 33-333 words and include the word "father" as defined below:
FATHER
a : one related to another in a way suggesting that of father to child
b : an old man —used as a respectful form of address
Word count: 333
Our Elf Has Gone Rogue
We have an elf, but he doesn't hang out on shelves. No, our elf--Clyde--prefers the company of Barbie and her friends to books and dust bunnies. He doesn't wear any femmy red bodysuit, either. Our elf has style.
Clyde's a pimp. Not in a "bitch betta have my money" way. What I mean is he's a player. The ladies love him. (You know what they say about elves with big feet.) His girls don't even mind sharing him. The other day I overheard Barbie's trashy sister Skipper announce, "Ain't no fun if my homies can't have none." Until I discovered Clyde's proclivities toward the honeys, I used to wonder why Daughter's dolls were never dressed. Sluts.
Clyde's been with us four years now. In that time, we've overlooked LOTS of questionable behavior because, well, he's a fun guy. And he always leaves out the really bad stuff when he reports back to good ol' Father Christmas. Besides, our naughty list worthy offenses are nothing compared to Clyde's antics. We can't help but love the little dude, though. He's the life of the party, and he tells the most hilarious dirty jokes. Ever heard the gem about the elf, the unicorn and the fairy? That one still cracks me up.
Well, today Clyde went full-on rogue. I received the following photo via text this morning--no doubt from an untraceable phone:
Obviously, we feel awful for Mr. and Mrs. Snow. And abducting innocent snow children is nothing short of heinous. But where are we supposed to get $1,000,000? I could implore my loyal readers to each donate a dollar, but that would net, like, three bucks.
Why couldn't Clyde be content to poop chocolate chips or make snow angels in our flour like other people's elves? Why?!
UPDATE: The Snows returned with nary a carrot out of place. Clyde apologized, but he's back to his old tricks. Aladdin has every reason to be pissed. From what I've heard, once you go elf ...
#
When I was a kid, I went to a play called "Big Ralph the Bad Elf." It was a true Christmas classic, with such timeless songs as "I'm Big Ralph, the Bad Elf." But apparently, Ralph has nothing on Clyde. 0_o.
ReplyDeleteExcellent update. It's true, once you go elf... Ha! Great one, Ivy!
ReplyDeleteYour Elf would feel right at home in our strange little Universe, the Netherworld. Glad to meet him!
ReplyDeleteGreat piece of humor. Enjoyed it.
ReplyDeletelol. I always worried about Barbie's sister, Skipper. I mean her older sister is way hotter than her, so I guess she would get on the wrong side of the tracks for attention. bahahaha. great piece. :)
ReplyDeleteHahahahaha! You've got me rolling on the floor laughing. Eleves with big feet. *chuckle*
ReplyDeleteThis is EPIC, Ivy! But I'm sorry you had to learn about your Daughter's Barbies. Serious LUTS. *See what I did there? ;)*
Hahahahahaha!!!!! What a clever post! I love the pictures, too.
ReplyDeleteHa!ha!Very cute Ivy :-)
ReplyDeleteI'm inviting Clyde to our next shindig. (Glad the Snows got back OK though) Thanks for linking up and don't forget voting is now open longer!
ReplyDeleteYou are a naughty girl. I loved your story! Loved this line... Not in a "bitch betta have my money" way,
ReplyDeleteCould not stop laughing. Elf Pimp Clyde... could be a Lifetime Movie.
ReplyDelete