Tonight was his night.
He had schemed, plotted, and planned for this moment.
And no one was going to take it from him. Not the little Who girl who humiliated him. Not stupid balding Mayor Augustus Maywho. Not even the fat man himself. Christmas... was his.
Well... it would be. In a few hours.
The Grinch stood in his cave in all his green glory, scowling as he surveyed the trash heap he called home. His scrawny dog whined and nudged up against his leg, and the Grinch sneered, showing his termite-ridden teeth.
"MAX! Personal space!" he yelled, stomping his furry foot against the stone floor. Max yelped and ran off to his makeshift dog house, the pathetic creature. The Grinch crinkled his brown button nose, his whiskers curling in disgust.
The Grinch turned away from the sight to see his masterpiece, a shiny red sleigh with rockets strapped to the back. So much more style than the fat man's basic ride. His face twisted into a wicked grin, his long hands rubbing against each other in rotten anticipation. Nothing else mattered today. The Grinch had to keep his eyes on the prize.
"Brace yourself, Whoville," he whispered to himself deviously, his yellowed eyes glowing.
YOU ARE READING
You're A Mean One, Mr. Grinch (Jack x Grinch)
RomanceTonight was the Grinch's night. Christmas was finally his to destroy, the horrible holiday right at his fingertips, and no one would get in his way. Except for maybe a certain handsome skeleton who has flipped the holiday on its head, taking Christm...
