You're A Mean One, Mr. Grinch (Jack x Grinch)

The Grinch

The Grinch jumped on to his seat on his sleigh, revving the engine and making the entire sleigh vibrate underneath him.
"That feels good," he said, his voice rattling as he smiled.
Max jumped on to the sleigh next to him, his red nose abandoned but his singular antler still tied to his head. The Grinch started pressing buttons on the control panels, not knowing exactly what they did but not really caring. As long as it got him to Whoville and on a roof of a house.
"Here goes nothing, hot dog!" he yelled, before pressing a button that sent the sleigh hurtling out the cave entrance and off the cliff. The sleigh spun round and round, sending the Grinch and Max upside down again and again.
"On Crasher! On Thrasher! On Vomit! On Blitzkrieg!" he screamed, the wind whipping against his fur as he snapped the reigns of imaginary reindeer. How did Santa do this every year?
The colors whirled faster and faster and the ground got closer and closer.
"We're gonna die! We're gonna die! Mama, please, make it stop!" The Grinch cried, grabbing his hat before it could fly away.
The sleigh crashed onto a roof, skidding to a stop as the Grinch's head slammed against the control panel. Max barked as he came back up from where he was cowering.
That was a close one. The Grinch had almost lost his cool. He straightened his suit and grabbed the empty sack from the back of his sleigh. The houses were quiet as snow gently drifted through the air. He surveyed the chimney, which looked like a tight squeeze, but if the fat man could do it then so could he!
The Grinch slid down the chimney, getting stuck for only a moment but sucking in just enough to fall through. The chimney was dressed in tinsel with three stockings in a row, the tree had red and green ornaments, and on the door hung a festive wreath. The Grinch groaned and rolled his eyes, scrambling out of the chimney pulling out a bag of moths he had caught for this very reason. The moths made quick work of the stockings, reducing them to shreds of red fabric. The Grinch grabbed the wreath, tossing it into his bag along with all of the contents of the fridge.
"Max! Fetch my vacuum!" the Grinch yelled, tossing his bag up the chimney and to the roof. He turned his attention to the tree, where instead of piles of shiny presents that he was used to seeing in the garbage chute, he saw two presents in thin black and white wrapping paper, one of them ripped open and abandoned on the staircase.
"Looks like someone tried out a new color scheme," the Grinch mused, picking up the opened package. He flinched back when he saw what was inside the box. His yellow orbs glimmering, he reached in and pulled out a shrunken head, placed in the box with the care of a shiny new toy.
He took a moment to appraise it. The craftsmanship was great, and the skin was wrinkled and sewn in all the right places. Now this was a Christmas present he could get behind. As the tube of the vacuum lowered in through the chimney, the Grinch shrugged and shoved the shrunken head into his suit's deep pockets. It wouldn't hurt to keep one gift for himself, especially one that fit so well with his current decor. He had never seen anything like end up in his dump.
"Looks like the fat man learned some new tricks," the Grinch said, smiling and picking up the tube, sucking up the remaining presents and the entire Christmas tree with it.
As he tossed the last of it up the chimney, he looked at the now empty house. No more Christmas tree or Christmas stockings or Christmas wreath. No more tacky decorations or gaudy feasts or any signs of that horrible holiday. Christmas was gone. Well, except for the gift still sitting in his pocket.