I wrote this on Christmas morning in 1991.
Since then, it's been a yearly tradition for me to write a story on Christmas to ruin the holiday for everyone.

whatever posessed me to sign this 'Manly Rooney'?

A VERY SPOT CHRISTMAS
-or-
WE'VE GONE BEYOND THE KNUCKLE!

by Manly Rooney, 12/25/91

-Here incipits a Tale of Spot-

Bzzzzzzzzt! Spot's three alarm clocks simultaneously stunned him out of bed at 12:01am on Christmas. He ran down the stairs and began to tear wrapping paper off presents with his teeth.

The first thing Spot unwrapped was a Tater Twister, which was an appliance that could slice potatoes (only potatoes) into spirals (only spirals) while taking up valuable kitchen-counter real estate. Spot chucked the Tater Twister over his shoulder and grabbed another present.

It was another Tater Twister. He tossed it in the general direction of the first one and unwrapped a third. "Waaaaaaah!" screamed Spot, "I asked for all sorts of NEAT STUFF for CHRISTMAS and I was EXTRA GOOD and I all got were STUPID TATER TWISTERS!"

Just then, Spot's parents, Spom and Spop, wandered down the stairs into the living room, to see what the racket was. Spop saw Spot crying. "Why, Spot, what's the matter? I bet you'd like the Tater Twisters a lot better if you'd just try one of them."

Spop plugged in Tater Twister #1. It started up, sucked in Spop's tail, pulled him in, and shaved him corkscrew fashion. The Tater Twister exploded, leaving a bald, scorched Spop lying on the floor under a halo of little asterisks. Spot cried even louder!

"There, there, dear," comforted Spom, "your pop'll be all right in a while. Why don't you open your BIG gift?"

Spot noticed a large box that he'd overlooked, as it was the same color as the wallpaper. He ripped it open, and

PLEASE CHOOSE A NUMBER FROM ONE (1) TO SIX (6) AND GO TO THE RELEVANT SPOT.

---

(1)

inside was a twelve-foot ball of Silly Putty. "Wow! Silly Putty!" yapped gleeful Spot. "Just what I wanted! And lots of it, too!"

"I'm glad you liked it, Spot," beamed Spom. "It was all my idea."

Spot tried to knead the Silly Putty with his paws, but the glob was just too darn big! He shoved against the side of it with all his might and it didn't budge. Then, calamitously, it rolled over onto him. With a soft slurping noise, Spot became embedded in the huge ball.

Spot spent the next six weeks whimpering as the ball was stretched in various ways as the paramedics tried to free him. Eventually, they gave up, telling Spot's parents that from now on all he would be able to do would be to pick up pictures from the Sunday funnies. Yes, Spot was a Silly Puppy.

THE END

---

(2)

inside was a huge serving, steaming warm, of Spot's favorite food, that delicacy known as lutefisk. And--joy of joys--there was ALSO an enormous quantity of Spot's second favorite food, tutti-frutti bubble gum! But--horror of horrors--the two had been mixed together! Christmas was ruined! Spot cried.

THE END

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(3)

inside was a pair of wax lips. Spot tried them on.

"Mmm mmmmm mm MMM mmm mmmmm mm MMMM MMMMMM!" he said. Spop winked at Spom as he hid the tube of Krazy Glue(TM).

THE END

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(4)

inside was a pair of tweezers.

"I thought you'd like some nice tweezers," said Spom, "since you can't pick small things up with those paws."

Spot tried to check out the tweezers, but he couldn't pick them up with his paws. "Waah! They're too small!" He made a mental note to ask for tweezers again next year, because then he'd have something to pick up this pair with.

THE END

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(5)

inside was a vacuum Kleenex. Spot wished he'd never need to blow his nose... somehow knowing that maybe, just maybe, his wish would come true....

THE END

NOTE: YOU HAVE SELECTED THE HAPPY ENDING FOR THE STORY.

---

(6)

inside was a mosquito on a leash.

"Oh, boy, my very own pet! I'll name him Winer," said Spot.

With Spom's help, the end of Winer's leash was soon hooked onto Spot's collar. Spot went out to take his new pet for a walk.

At first it was fun, with Winer humming along behind (and above) him. However, soon Spot found out the hard way that pet mosquitoes need to be fed every five minutes. Soon, he was covered with itchy red marks. Spot stifled a sob. It was a nuisance, but he'd always love Winer. Winer was his pet and his pal. The mere though of their eternal friendship made Spot's tail wag happily.

Unfortunately, the tail mashed Winer. His corpse resembled a punctuation mark of indeterminate variety. Oh, how poor Spot cried! He tried to unhook the late Winer's leash from his collar, but with his puppy paws, he couldn't undo the spring clasp. For the rest of the day, he ran around sobbing, dragging dead Winer behind all the while.

Eventually, a friendly undertaker buried Winer for Spot. Spot stood by his friend's grave all night. He had to, since the leash on his collar ran down into the packed earth.

THE END

© James "Kibo" Parry 1991