Christmas Countdown Day 6

“The Snowman Surveillance Scandal”

(featuring NEW security upgrades, courtesy of the idiots)

By Saturday morning, the Chaos Four were the talk of the North Pole.

Not because they were legends.

Not because their bravery inspired others.

But because their list of property damage now required its own spreadsheet.

Between:

• The glitter bomb catastrophe

• The gingerbread uprising

• The accidental sleigh detonation mode

• The reindeer trauma

• Bob’s rising ham consumption levels

…the Claus Security Council finally had enough.

So overnight, Santa implemented a brand-new protocol:

THE SECURITY SNOWMEN INITIATIVE

(due to “recent events,” aka the Chaos Four)

Magically animated snowman guards now patrolled the entire perimeter of the Christmas Kitchen.

They had:

• Soulless coal eyes

• A supernatural sense of guilt

• Whistles they used far too aggressively

• The emotional stability of a toddler on Pixy Stix

• A violent snowball-launching system

• And zero tolerance for nonsense

Buttercup read the notice twice and whispered,

“Oh… we did this.”

Peppermint blamed fate.

Joe blamed Mason.

Mason blamed gravity.

Peppermint Announces “The Perfect Plan”

At the morning briefing (held around Mason’s “no explosives corner”), Peppermint declared:

“Today…

we go stealth mode.”

Joe groaned.

Buttercup facepalmed.

Mason perked up immediately, which was concerning.

Peppermint continued:

“These snowmen are NEW.

They don’t know us.

We blend in.

We walk past them.

We get the hot chocolate.”

Buttercup stared at her like she’d just proposed tax evasion.

“You want us to become snowmen?”

Peppermint proudly held up:

• A bucket of shaving cream

• Two rolls of toilet paper

• A stack of laundry baskets

• And a carrot taped to a headband

Buttercup: “Pep, this is how we die.”

Mason: “I LOVE IT.”

Joe: “I’m allergic to toilet paper.”

No one believed him.

The Disguise Phase

After 30 minutes of humiliation, they were:

• Peppermint: a foam blob of shaving cream with eyes

• Joe: wrapped entirely in toilet paper like Off-Brand Frosty

• Buttercup: stuffed inside an actual pile of snow

• Mason: three laundry baskets tall, wobbling dangerously

They waddled across the courtyard like deranged winter creatures.

The Snowmen Detect Their Crimes Immediately

They were 10 feet from the kitchen when one of the enchanted snowmen lifted its coal nose, sniffed dramatically, and declared:

“THIS ONE SMELLS LIKE FELONY.”

(it pointed at Mason)

All the snowmen turned.

Coal eyes glowed red.

Whistles exploded in a deafening chorus.

Then came the snowballs.

SO MANY snowballs.

Peppermint shrieked as she was tackled by three snowmen chanting “CRIME! CRIME! CRIME!”

Joe tried to flee but tripped and mummified himself further.

Buttercup’s snow disguise got buried under actual snowballs.

Mason rolled downhill like a collapsing snow totem pole screaming,

“I DIDN’T EVEN EXPLODE ANYTHING THIS TIME!”

Bob Arrives Holding His Ham Like a Grumpy Sheriff

He stopped dead at the sight of:

• Snowmen attacking Peppermint

• Joe wrapped tighter than a toilet-paper burrito

• Buttercup’s legs sticking out from a snow pile

• Mason rolling like an avalanche with anxiety

Bob inhaled the longest, most fed-up breath in the history of the North Pole.

Then he yelled:

“STOP.

STOP ALL OF THIS.

NO MORE SNOW-BASED OPERATIONS.”

(The magical snowmen booed him.)

Attempt #4 was declared:

❌ FAILED

❌ SNOWMEN SECURITY UPGRADED EVEN MORE

❌ MASON BANNED FROM APPROACHING THE LAUNDRY BASKETS

Morale?

Weirdly high because Peppermint swears,

“I think one of the snowmen winked at me… we’re close.”