Christmas Countdown Day 9
Buttercup unveiled her plan: A giant candy cane catapult. To launch Peppermint directly through the kitchen skylight. Peppermint fainted. Mason cried happy tears. Joe said, “This is the worst idea you’ve ever had and somehow I agree with it.”
The Great Candy Cane Catapult Catastrophe
After yesterday’s humiliating Cookie Siren incident and being escorted out of the kitchen by Bob (again), the Chaos Four met at their tiny dining table to brainstorm.
Peppermint paced with a candy cane in her mouth like a general chewing a cigar.
“Okay,” she said.
“We need distance.
We need speed.
We need to get INTO the kitchen without setting off the new snowmen security.”
Joe took notes.
Buttercup nodded thoughtfully.
Mason raised his hand.
Peppermint glared.
“What?”
“I have an idea.”
Three voices snapped:
“NO.”
Mason sulked.
Peppermint pointed her candy cane like a weapon.
“We need something simple.
Something NOT involving tunnels, costumes, reindeer, sirens, lasers, glitter, explosives, or… Mason.”
Mason: “I feel attacked.”
Buttercup suddenly gasped.
“I’ve got it.
We DON’T walk into the kitchen.”
Peppermint blinked.
“…what?”
Buttercup whispered dramatically:
“We fly into it.”
Joe looked alarmed.
Peppermint looked intrigued.
Mason lit up like a Christmas tree despite not being allowed to.
Buttercup unveiled her plan:
A giant candy cane catapult.
To launch Peppermint directly through the kitchen skylight.
Peppermint fainted.
Mason cried happy tears.
Joe said, “This is the worst idea you’ve ever had and somehow I agree with it.”
Construction Begins
Rules were set:
No explosives.
No illegal lumber.
No involving reindeer.
No using the neighbor’s trampoline again.
No candy canes thicker than Buttercup’s arm.
Mason must wear oven mitts to prevent “accidental engineering.”
Still… the four elves built the most questionable catapult the North Pole had ever seen using:
42 candy canes
a gingerbread ladder
two giant rubber bands
a sled
three gumdrops as “structural support” (Mason’s idea)
and hope
lots of hope
It looked like an OSHA violation with sprinkles.
Peppermint stared at it in horror.
“Mason… why is it smoking?”
Mason: “Friction.”
Joe: “…but nothing is moving?”
Mason shrugged.
The Launch
The catapult was positioned facing the Christmas Kitchen skylight.
Peppermint climbed into the sled reluctantly.
Buttercup kissed her forehead.
“For glory.”
Joe handed her goggles.
“For safety.”
Mason handed her a marshmallow.
“For snacks.”
Peppermint swallowed hard.
“Okay… ready when you—”
Mason yelled,
“FIRE!”
He did NOT wait for confirmation.
He launched her.
He launched her SO HARD.
Peppermint’s Flight
Peppermint flew across the sky screaming:
“THIS WAS A MISTAAAAAAAKE—”
She soared majestically.
Briefly.
Like a peppermint-flavored comet.
She did NOT hit the skylight.
She missed it by 14 feet and crashed into:
The North Pole Christmas Choir rehearsal.
Elves scattered.
Sheet music flew.
A soloist shrieked.
Peppermint landed face-first in a tuba.
Buttercup screamed.
Joe sprinted.
Mason applauded.
“This went GREAT!” he said, taking notes.
Bob Arrives With the Ham of Judgment™
Bob stormed out of the kitchen clutching his ham—now upgraded to two hams, one in each hand.
He stared at:
the smoking catapult
the half-buried sled
Mason taking photos
Buttercup crying-laughing
Joe trying to extract Peppermint from a tuba
Bob whispered,
“I can’t keep doing this.”
He pointed both hams like warning weapons.
“NO MORE CATAPULTS.
NO MORE LAUNCHING.
NO MORE FLYING.
NO MORE—
…whatever THAT was!”
Attempt #6 was officially deemed:
❌ A Failure
❌ Illegal under North Pole Ordinance 12B
❌ Banned from Choir Hall until further notice
Peppermint’s morale?
Shockingly intact.
She emerged from the tuba and said,
“I saw the kitchen window from up there.
We’re getting closer.”
The others nodded because at this point, delusion was the only thing holding them together.
