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CDC Writes a Christmas Story

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Inspired by previous CDC stories hosted by BananaMash.


We need 8 participants to write a total of 8 chapters. Pick a chapter, wait until all chapters prior to yours have been posted, then write and post your chapter. Just try to keep the story moving.



1. One one two

2. Zfetch

3. Tre Mac


5. otherwise





Chapter 1:


Snow fell and choirs sang; houses and yards were decorated with pretty lights and plastic reindeer; children were now at home sippng hot chocolate, huddled snugly around lit fireplaces; neighbours wished neighbours a merry Christmas; snowmen dotted the landscape; and there were feelings of seasonal glee in the air. Mash and Tiggies were at a Christmas party hosted by Rev. Malcolm Green, famous author and Yu-Gi-Oh duelist. The two had gone outside to escape the party and chat briefly.

'The road is long,' sighed Tiggies poetically as he took a drag of his cigarette.

'Yeah,' Mash replied, 'but the scenery is nice: trees, mountains. And sometimes you meet other travellers--people who've walked different trails--who can share stories of love and life. Tigs, you can't just take all the good in the world and leave what else there is. It's through pain and struggle that we become who we are; and it's the worst of life that allows us to appreciate what's truly great.'

Tiggies let out a sensible chuckle--one that did not mock what Mash had said but rather seemed to agree with it. 'You always were good at giving advice, Mash. Say, where's Gumball? He said he'd be here half an hour ago. We can't have a Christmas party without the Gummeister.'

'He'll be here. He wouldn't miss something like this. You know it's his favourite holiday. Hey, I think that's him.'

A Rolls-Royce was parked across the street and Gumball emerged wearing a suit, waving subtly as he began to approach the house, walking like a pimp. His expressive gait was the result of a hip injury he sufferred in the war when he carried a downed officer through a long spray of bullets to safety. He was hit twice during his heroic display and earned a medal of valour.

Gumball checked his smart phone before commiting it to his right pocket and stepped up onto the porch where Tiggies and Mash were. The three of them performed a secret handshake.

'Ay!' said Mash.

'Ay!' the others echoed.

'Where the party at?' asked Gumball.

'It's here, it's here,' replied Tiggies. 'We're just outside because someone puked and it smells like that time a raccoon died in my attic.'

'Oh. I didn't know it was that kind of party,' said Gumball. 'And I like your Santa hat, Tigs. It makes your jawline look manly and gaunt. You're like a real life Johnny Bravo.'

'Gee, thanks, Gum. You really mean that? It's nice to get a compliment from you. You know, when I put it on this morning, I really wasn't feeling it, but I guess it's okay after all? I'm actually glad I wore it now. Thanks,' responded Tiggies.

'Let's go inside,' said Mash declaratively as he peeked inside through a window. 'Everyone's watching the news for some reason.'

They stepped inside.


'Unreal,' said Gumball. 'Those damned elves should be thankful they even have jobs. They can't just cancel Christmas like that. What about my presents?'

'Gum, you're not understanding the politics behind it,' Mash interjected. 'These elves have been subjugated and enslaved for hundreds of years. They hate Christmas.'

'I don't care. We have to go to the North Pole and get those lazy bastards back to work,' resolved Gumball.


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Chapter 2


The sky grew a smoggy viridian. An uproar from North pushed the feint wind back. The elves were an upset red. Funkshetz, the head elf, had his minions under command. "Repeat after me : 'we will take Vancouver over by crippling their economy, land and people'", Funkshetz exclaimed. The other Elves repeated harmoniously. The atmosphere turned a darker hue. 


Gumball was beginning his trip to the North. He packed his toothpaste and clothes and booked his ticket to the unionized land. Mash called Gumball. "So the thing set man?", he thrusted forth. "Yeah it's all good man", Gumball replied. Gumball's wife was left at home to cook, clean and take care of the kids on her measly income. Her scars glistened from the chandelier light pounding down on her scalp. 


The elves had set the plan and were ready to take over by crippling Vancouvers economy, land and people. The economy was the first and focused target. The air felt a dirty green. Funkshetz had made it clear that this plan would have to fall through. Little Tom was curious what would happen if it did not. His undeveloped body ached for the answer. "Ah sir...what uh happens if this doesn't work sir?". Big Tom was silented. His young flesh was seized by Elf Officials. Funkshetz hoped that answered what were to happen if his authority were questioned.


Funkshetz pooled all of the North's resources and invested in real estate. He figured that with the small land he could work towards all three objectives by controlling shelter. Funkshetz ordered Cycurren the accountant elf to gain control of Parliment's tax forecasts and tangible currency. Cycurren worked his way to a role as Chief Compensation Analyst for BC Parliament. He was handling cash in and cash out. By intercepting incoming cash flow he could allocate these funds towards buying more real estate and throwing off Brittney Spears and her socialist government. 


Groudon, the land Elf had now been able to carry his weight by enacting the destruction of Vancouver land. The air felt dusty and began deoxidating. Groudon had caused the next big one in Vancouver. His ear smashed the Juan De Fuca plate into irreplaceable bits. 20000 casualties were reported. His job was done swiftly and he returned North.


Funkshetz got off to a fantastic start and the little elves had gained more worship to their leader. "HEIL FUNKSHETZ!", ecstatically exclaimed the minions. 


Funkshetz only concern was the odd visiting plane from Vancouver incoming. Gumball and Mash were on the transport. Funkshetz had no tolerance and would not succumb under the thumb of the Vancouverites. The sky became pitch black. A final solution is proposed...

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Chapter 3 - The Arrival


As Groudon, Funkshetz and the rest of the elves congregated inside the Pointy Ear Tavern, a sense of spiritual fulfillment filled the watering hole which was almost as palpable as the candy cane smoke that emitted from each and every elf.  "To Independence! SNUK SNUK" bellowed Funkshetz "SNUK SNUK" replied the nearly three dozen elves.  The mood could not be more bliss.  That is until the walls of the tavern begin to tremor, dust from the ceiling fell like the artic powder outside.  There was this nervous tension that engulfed every elf, as they each look at each through their small beady eyes the thunderous noise increased.  Tables and chairs and the ale that filled every cup begin to shake uncontrollably until everything hit the floor.  The ceiling gave way, "Everyone out!" yelled Groudon, as each of the 30 or so elves went outside all they saw were the bright lights omitted from this cylindrical machine.  The elves now nervously gathered around this foreign object as the thunderous noise stopped.  On one side the outside latch visible to all turned counter clockwise, what looked like a door opened and a mechanical staircase followed.  As the sounds of size 10's begain to creep down the stairs each and every elf knew what was coming.  "The...Vancouverites?" muddled Kreklik, the town Elder.  "They're....here...." declared Funkshetz.

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  • 4 weeks later...

Chapter 4 - The Escape Claus


On the other side of the North Pole, in a large house, Saint Nick sat on an old wooden stool, tied up and wrapped in old, used wrapping paper. Frightened and bewildered, Nick sat there in his room alone. Suddenly he heard a voice, "I've heard reports that some Vancouverites have arrived to sabotage our mission, we must leave immediately."

"What do we do with the old geezer, he's in there unconscious," spoke another elf in a soft voice.

"Let's finish him off, once and for all!"

"But...he's...um..Sant...Claus" responded the soft spoken elf.

"Oh shut up! Funkshetz would want this!" growled the other fiesty elf. Santa sat there quietly, bemused and scared, his palms sweaty and eyes watery. Two elves opened the bedroom door, no taller than a young child. One had a look of enforcer Tie Domi, muscular yet short. The other had a look of uncertainty. "Even better, he's awake," laughed Tie Domi as he played with his weapon.

"You put that down and untie me," cried Santa, shocked to see his elves betraying him.

"It's over Beluga Whale," smiled Tie. He swung his candycane back, but at the same time, Santa jumped up with his hands still tied up, and jumped on top of Tie before he could finish his dramatic swing. "Merry Christmas bitch," yelled Santa. Tie cried in pain and agony, his candycane weapon snapped in half, Santa rolled over and slowly managed to get up. Tie lay there, conscious, unable to move. Santa gave the other elf the Todd Bertuzzi death stare. "No...please...they forced...me to do it," pleaded the elf.

"Who!" demanded Santa.

"It's..Funkshetz...he's manipulated all the elves, anyone who disobeys him...gets sent to the South Pole," responded the elf

"Funkshetz, that fool, I should've banned him from here when I had my chance! Where is he now."


Santa charged out of his house, he ran slowly and came to a sudden stop. He couldn't believe what he was seeing. He took another step when someone grabbed his leg. Before he could cry for help, one of Funkshetz soldiers KO'd him, WWE style.


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