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A glittering stream of sweets, glorious in foil wrappings of every shade and hue, tumbled down into the octagonal plastic box with a rattle.
"What are you doing, you idiot?" Marshall yelled, jumping off the sofa in a shower of cookie crumbs and throw cushions.
Dash glared up at him, the now-empty tin of Roses in one hand, the newly-refilled box of Quality Street in the other.
"What?" he demanded.
"You can't mix Quality Street with Roses!" Marshall shouted, a vein jumping in his temple. "What's wrong with you?"
"Oh, really?" Dash countered, reaching for the red cardboard tube. "You're really going to hate this, then..."
Simon, who had been steadfastly ignoring them while he flipped through the Commander Cody Christmas Annual, looked up at Marshall's horrified scream. He tried to reach for the Celebrations, but his feet tangled in the heavy throw rug Marilyn had spread over the three boys after lunch, and he went sprawling.
"Dash, no..." he tried, but it was too late.
The Celebrations, gold and brown and red, rustled and clattered as they mixed with the blues and pinks of the Roses and burrowed down amidst the greens and purples of the Quality Street. The room filled with the smell of fondant and melted chocolate, and Dash dropped the now-full box with a curse as the plastic began to heat.
"What have you done?" cried Marshall, as a pair of drippy brown hands appeared over the edge of the Quality Street box and a mis-shapen head, stinking of unpleasant flavour combinations and studded with a thousand Toffee Penny eyes, rose from the churning moil.
"For decades, I have slumbered," gurgled the Selection Box Homunculus, a long string of too-sweet strawberry-orange filling dripping from the corner of it's too-wide mouth. "But at last, I rise again! Cower, foolish mortals, for the curse of all-the-good-flavours-are-gone is upon you!"
"Great," said Marshall, as a nearly-full box of Malteasers flew off the coffee table to be absorbed into the monster's gloopy body. "Thanks for ruining Christmas, Dash."
"How was I supposed to know?" Dash snapped back, making a futile grasp for the last of the Thin Mints as they vanished into the roiling mass of confectionary.
"Everyone knows!" said Simon, as peanut m&ms streamed between his frantically clutching fingers and straight into the monster's gaping maw. "It's a basic tenant of the holidays: you never cross the candy streams!"
The Christmas Series
Visiting Relations by
froodle, in which the Abominable Snowman pays a call on his favourite cousin
Tradition by
froodle, in which Dash and Marshall decorate a Christmas tree
Twelve Sleeps! by
froodle, in which Andrea does not enjoy Christmas shopping
Handmade by
froodle, in which the Tellers receive a Christmas package from Marilyn's mother
So Be Good, For Goodness' Sake by
froodle, in which Marshall and Dash go to see Santa
Poor Life Choices by
froodle, in which Syndi loves her brother anyway
Microwave-verse
Bonfire by
froodle, in which Pinocchio is ruined forever
Gingerbread by
froodle, in which there is a witch in the Eerie Woods
Leaves by
froodle, in which plantlife finds Marshall entirely too enticing
Offspring by
froodle, in which there are dragons
Based on Your Previous Purchases by
froodle, in which Mars should really pay attention to Amazon's reccomendations
Housework by
froodle, in which a rota cannot be agreed upon
Breakfast by
froodle, in which Dash's attempts at cookery do not go well
Ghost in the Machine by
froodle, in which a new laptop opens an old wound
Consequences by
froodle, in which an encounter with leprechauns leaves the boys very tired indeed
The Microwave by
froodle, in which Andrea Fantucci returns to Eerie after a considerable absense
The Eldritch Abomination in the Room by
froodle, in which the microwave is most definitely not discussed
Basic Household Maintenance by
froodle, in which manticores are inconsiderate houseguests
Torrential by
froodle, in which there is a storm, and the boys eat ice-cream
Linens by
froodle, in which Dash X makes a bed
Night Music by
froodle, in which Simon is woken by a nocturnal visitor
In For The Night by
froodle, in which Dash refuses to leave the house
Hound by
froodle, in which Simon makes a friend
Errands by
froodle, in which Simon has a to-do list
Waterlogged by
froodle, in which Eerie experiences heavy rainfall
Wildlife by
froodle, in which Simon and Marshall go to the beach
Rainbow by
froodle, in which Dash fails to properly appreciate Michael Flatley
Jackolantern by
froodle, in which the local pumpkin patch has a problem
"What are you doing, you idiot?" Marshall yelled, jumping off the sofa in a shower of cookie crumbs and throw cushions.
Dash glared up at him, the now-empty tin of Roses in one hand, the newly-refilled box of Quality Street in the other.
"What?" he demanded.
"You can't mix Quality Street with Roses!" Marshall shouted, a vein jumping in his temple. "What's wrong with you?"
"Oh, really?" Dash countered, reaching for the red cardboard tube. "You're really going to hate this, then..."
Simon, who had been steadfastly ignoring them while he flipped through the Commander Cody Christmas Annual, looked up at Marshall's horrified scream. He tried to reach for the Celebrations, but his feet tangled in the heavy throw rug Marilyn had spread over the three boys after lunch, and he went sprawling.
"Dash, no..." he tried, but it was too late.
The Celebrations, gold and brown and red, rustled and clattered as they mixed with the blues and pinks of the Roses and burrowed down amidst the greens and purples of the Quality Street. The room filled with the smell of fondant and melted chocolate, and Dash dropped the now-full box with a curse as the plastic began to heat.
"What have you done?" cried Marshall, as a pair of drippy brown hands appeared over the edge of the Quality Street box and a mis-shapen head, stinking of unpleasant flavour combinations and studded with a thousand Toffee Penny eyes, rose from the churning moil.
"For decades, I have slumbered," gurgled the Selection Box Homunculus, a long string of too-sweet strawberry-orange filling dripping from the corner of it's too-wide mouth. "But at last, I rise again! Cower, foolish mortals, for the curse of all-the-good-flavours-are-gone is upon you!"
"Great," said Marshall, as a nearly-full box of Malteasers flew off the coffee table to be absorbed into the monster's gloopy body. "Thanks for ruining Christmas, Dash."
"How was I supposed to know?" Dash snapped back, making a futile grasp for the last of the Thin Mints as they vanished into the roiling mass of confectionary.
"Everyone knows!" said Simon, as peanut m&ms streamed between his frantically clutching fingers and straight into the monster's gaping maw. "It's a basic tenant of the holidays: you never cross the candy streams!"
The Christmas Series
Visiting Relations by
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Tradition by
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Twelve Sleeps! by
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Handmade by
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So Be Good, For Goodness' Sake by
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Poor Life Choices by
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Microwave-verse
Bonfire by
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Gingerbread by
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Leaves by
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Offspring by
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Based on Your Previous Purchases by
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Housework by
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Breakfast by
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Ghost in the Machine by
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Consequences by
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The Microwave by
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The Eldritch Abomination in the Room by
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Basic Household Maintenance by
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Torrential by
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Linens by
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Night Music by
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In For The Night by
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Hound by
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Errands by
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Waterlogged by
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Wildlife by
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Rainbow by
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Jackolantern by
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no subject
Date: 2017-12-25 04:03 pm (UTC)i love it
no subject
Date: 2017-12-26 05:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-12-26 01:45 am (UTC)Foolish amnesiac mortal!
no subject
Date: 2017-12-26 05:48 pm (UTC)