Thistlehair The Christmas Bear
The Christmas din was overwhelming and pushed Thistlehair to his breaking point.
“I want a new iPhone 7!”
“Pleeeeeeeease can I have a drone helicopter? I neeeeeeeeed one.”
“Oh! Oh! A Hatchimals Pengualas! I’d love a Hatchimals Pengualas!”
All over the city, similar requests went out as children pleaded with their parents, grandparents, shopping center Santas, or anyone who would listen. This Christmas just couldn’t be a success without little whatshisname getting the trickedoutest toy or little whatshername getting the sleekest tech. As he trudged back to his underground cave, Thistlehair dragged his feet in despair. He also grew three feet taller and wider.
Sproing-oing. Sproing-oing. Sproing-oing.
“Halt! Who goes there?” said Charlie and Charlene-in-the-box in unison.
“At ease, soldiers,” said Thistlehair, “My appearance may have changed, but surely you recognize your king’s voice?”
Charlie and Charlene-in-the-box sproing-oinged apart saying, “Sire, your pardon!”
Thistlehair squeezed through the cave entrance, moved past the statue of King Moonracer, and took his place on the throne. He grew a foot taller and wider.
“Please widen the entrance,” he said to the remaining toy army corps, “I can already tell this year is going to surpass previous years.”
Dolly, frazzled and disheveled , stepped forward. “Sire, please, you can’t withstand this much longer. Please, won’t you let us go out to teach the children?”
“No!” said Thistlehair. His voice filled the cave with an ominous, honey-rich baritone. “They must learn on their own.”
Years had passed since they had escaped the island, but he wasn’t about to jeopardize the Christmas colony. It was nearly empty now.
“Cowboy, report please?” said Thistlehair. Silence filled the cave.
“Sire, cowboy hasn’t reported in for 48 hours.” said Dolly.
A heavy sigh escaped Thistlehair’s lips. He grew another two feet taller and wider and became more agitated.
“I will find Cowboy, or I will die trying.” said Thistlehair. He lurched forward from his chair and required assistance exiting the cave.
The nine foot tall bear ambled into the night uncertain where his steps would lead. Children’s desires grew.
“Can I please have a Barbie Hello Dream House?”
“The Cozmo would be the best!”
“The Micro Kickboard Mini2Go would be sooooo rad! “
He couldn’t be sure how long he’d been moving, but paused a moment before the pain took over. He grew another six feet and found it difficult to maintain his balance. As he stumbled into town, a group of startled citizens moved to prevent him from proceeding further. However, with each child’s Christmas wish, Thistlehair grew taller and wider and pain caused him to shake his mighty head.
Thistlehair could no longer handle each child’s request.
“I simply must have…”
Thistlehair shook his head as a townsperson approached. Skin and blood flew everywhere.
“No, I need…”
Thistlehair could no longer contain himself. The locals who had gathered around him, now lay in a crimson pool. Viscera and flesh scattered about. His jowls dripped. He needed to find children and he needed to find them now.
Inspired by Alabama – Thistlehair the Christmas Bear