One crisp evening, Stingy was lying in his bed thinking about last Christmas. Last year Stingy was a bad motherfucka. He rifled through garbages and stole pictures of Stephanie. Stingy loves Stephanie. He also ran over Sportacus. Oh, and don't forget the time he shot up Ziggy's house because Ziggy got a grass stain on his new ball. Yeah... he was a bad boy. That's why Santa didn't give him any presents. Stingy wants sweet revenge, very sweet revenge. He knew what he had to do. Tomorrow on Christmas Eve Stingy would kill Santa, and everyone else that had angered him. Stingy rose from his bed with a evil glimmer in his eye. He wobbled over to his desk and shoved all his collectibles off. His mom called from downstairs,
"Stingy! What the FUCK are you doing?"
"I'm writing a hit list, mommy!"
"Oh alright honey, goodnight."
He grabbed a pen and his trusty notebook called Stephanie 2.0. He scribbled Santa's name in capital letters, he was the most important on the hit list. Next was Ziggy, then Sportacus. Don't forget Trixie! Trixie played a prank on him, Trixie must pay. He wrote neat little boxes next to all the names. One by one they would checked off starting tomorrow night. Stingy grabbed the sheet and folded it nicely, then he put it in his "Santa Sack." He then sat on his bed and yelled for his mommy.
"MAAAAAAAAAAA!"
"WHATTT STINGY? I'M TRYING TO SLEEP!"
"I WANT TO BE TUCKED IN," Stingy demanded.
He heard clomping from down below. Then a creak as the door slung open. His mom stood in the doorway, her large mass rubbed against the door frame. She was fricken obese. Her red curls atop her head jiggled as she walked toward him, along with her belly fat. She plopped herself onto the bed, crushing Stingy. He gasped for air,
"MA, ma," he choked.
"Whattt Stingy?"
"You're.. you're sucking the oxygen out of me!"
"Oh," she said as she scooted her fat ass off of him.
He watched as she pulled the covers up to his chin. Then she came in for the kiss. Her plump drool-dripping lips that looked like an anus came closer. He braced himself for the impact. A slobbery pucker was left upon his cheek, he immediately wiped it away.
"Goodnight Stingy!" She bellowed.
The next day he awoke to thudding and swearing. His mom was attempting to cook breakfast again. Stingy got out of bed and changed into his usual wear of yellow shorts, a red bow tie, a black belt, a pair of white knee-high socks, and a pair of black dress shoes.
"I'm ready!" He thought.
He marched himself down the shit covered stairs. Both him and his mom were hoarders. As he entered the kitchen he saw his mom licking the greasy pan that bacon had once been cooked in. He gagged a little.
"Oh STINGY come sit down," she said shoving piles of shit off the table.
He sat himself in the chair while his mom swung her ass to the new hit "We are Number One. She lip sang,
"Just follow my moves, and sneak around! Be careful not to make A SOUNDDDDDD!"
She slammed her obtuse body into the fridge and it toppled over. Then his barf could not be contained as she bent over revealing her plumber's crack.
"I think i'll skip breakfast," he muttered while leaving the scene.
Back up in his room he was plotting his murderous spree. He decided he would mostly just torture the kids, except maybe Ziggy. He hated Ziggy so instead of torturing he'd do something worse. He pressed some numbers into a number pad which opened his weaponry closet. Candy cane machetes and garland nooses were spread around the room. His weapons changed depending on the season. He'd tie Trixie to the town hall and leave her helpless, THAT was a damn good prank. He'd decide what to do with the others tonight. Stingy strode over to his closet and opened it, revealing a shrine for his lover, Stephanie. He would save her and bring her to his home. She would be his princess.
