Recently I attended a Christmas in July charity fundraiser. I didn’t attend so much because I’m charitable, but because I love getting gifts, and I assumed the fundraiser would include door prizes and auction items.
*On a side note, anyone who says “Giving is more fun than receiving” has never received a gift certificate for a day at the spa. To those people who think it’s more fun to give than receive, feel free to give me as many gifts as you’d like if it makes you feel better.*
After all, I’m quite charitable.
As part of this event’s festivities, there was a contest for the ugliest Christmas sweater/t-shirt. I’m competitive so I took this contest seriously.
I wanted to win and shove it in the faces of all the other participants so they would know I was the winner and far superior.
You know, all in good fun of course…
I knew I couldn’t construct an ugly Christmas shirt alone, so I called for reinforcements to make something amazing the night before the event. Downtown Christy Brown couldn’t help because she already had plans.
Obviously she didn’t care about charity.
Fortunately, my friend The Great Ape (not her real name) was kind enough to join me in my mission.
We sat down and sketched out our vision like designers on Project Runway. We came up with our idea to turn me into a Christmas mantle with a stocking hanging from it. I know, it’s a brilliant idea, which we came up with while I repeatedly yelled “Make it work” in my best Tim Gunn impression.
We headed to a thrift store to get what we needed, which is an entirely different post for a different day. For reals. We saw some disturbing things.
Here’s what we purchased for my award-winning design:
Yes, that’s a basket shoved inside a stuffed animal. I can’t tell if the basket is violating the snowman or if the snowman ate the basket.
My first act was to decapitate the snowman. I didn’t want to do it, but peer pressure is a bitch and The Great Ape threatened to do it with a guillotine if I didn’t act quickly. Not only did I not want the snowman to die like Marie Antoinette, I also didn’t want to know how The Great Ape would fashion a guillotine out of things from my kitchen.
However, I’d seen her work making artificial chimpanzee vaginas, so I didn’t question her creativity skills.
I stepped up to the snowman, avoiding eye contact. I named him Stewart, and I didn’t want him to know I’d purchased him solely to brutally murder him so I could win a gift card.
He hung on for a while, making it all the more difficult. I’m not sure why I didn’t expect him to be a fighter. He was a snowman who managed to stay alive during 100 degree temperatures in the July heat.
Combine that with the painful hemorrhoids he must have been experiencing from the basket in the ass, and Stewart was nothing but a warrior.
A wounded warrior, but a warrior nonetheless.
As I decapitated Stewart, all the while telling him it was for the greater good, I looked over to find Shady Jack staring in horror. He loves his stuffed toys and always has one in his mouth. I didn’t intend for him to see my dirty work, but he walked in just as I began cutting and there was no turning back.
I could practically hear his gasp and although I can’t be sure, I think I saw a tear run down his face.
Stewart finally succumbed to the wrath of the kitchen scissors, and The Great Ape got to work quickly sewing his neck shut while I washed the proverbial blood off my hands. It wasn’t so much blood from Stewart as it was blood from nicking my finger with the scissors.
It was Stewart’s final attempt at life and I didn’t blame him for it.
R.I.P. sweet snowman.
We worked a few more hours sewing and gluing until we had our masterpiece. We held it up and heard the angels sing as the dining room chandelier shone down on our finished work. Stewart would have been proud, had he lived to see the final result.
It was a bitchin’ shirt if I do say so myself, and I do say so. Duh. Obviously, I won the competition, and since it was a charity event, I got to pose for a photo with one of the representatives from the charity. The photo will be be in their newsletter, which will no doubt increase donations in Stewart’s name.
Despite my win, I couldn’t help but feel a little regret for sweet Stewart, who gave his life so I could win a gift card. I got over it pretty quickly and drowned my sorrows in a snow cone I purchased with my winnings.
Stewart would have wanted it that way.