"Be it ever so heinous, there's no place like humbug".

Hilariously, awful Grinchy story of a horrid past year and a humbug to have to write about it. There was an annoying bunch of relatives, pesky lazy teens, warts and boils and an ungrateful green hairy body, horrid friends, illness and not enough finances to do everything on the bucket list. So now the Grinchy author needs to write a satirical story about it all, so she/he/it will feel better and justified for being a grump. Is the story true or false. Who cares! It gets the job done.

The year was just so awful and "Hate, hate. hatefully unkind. Loathe-fully mean and with no list of directions..."It came without ribbons, it came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags". Yes, this year was one I loathed entirely, well, maybe liked just a little bit. I got to write some kind of silly stories which a few nice people took some time to read.

This "Ain't gonna win me no prizes, ha. ha, that's for darned sure".

Alright, here goes: 🎄👻😂

Once upon a time, in the dreariest year of all, there lived a grumpy author named Grinchy McGrumpface. Grinchy had the misfortune of being surrounded by the most annoying relatives one could imagine. There was Great-Aunt Mildred, who never stopped talking about her cats, and Uncle Bob, who insisted on showing everyone his collection of toenail clippings.

But the worst of all were the pesky, lazy teens. They lounged around all day, glued to their screens, only emerging from their rooms to raid the fridge, never deigning to lend a hand in the preparation of food, the doing of household chores, or even their dirty, stinky laundry. The little brats always left a trail of chaos and know-it-all uppityness in their wake, as Grinchy often found himself/herself tripping over discarded smelly socks and empty snack wrappers. Siblings...Humbug.

The teen girl spends all of her pocket money on skincare and hair products, locked in her room with cell phone and tablet, laptop thing-a-ma-jig and various other secret thing-a ma-bobs. At least she bathes.

The teenage boy is a wiz with the brain, but never takes a bath, phew! He smells like fuzzy, musky farts. "Does your friend never smell your armpits". Grinchy asks.

"He smells just as bad". Is the grinning reply. Bah Humbug and "blast this Christmas music! It's much too joyful and triumphant".

The eight year old is rotten to the core, needing his mouth washed out with soap and his backside lathered and tanned. Who outlawed a good old- fashioned over-the-knee butt strapping any way. Humbug! The poor teachers pull their already thinning hair out with his many antics and lippiness. Hum-hum-bug!

What? How about my behavior in all of this?

I am practically perfect in every way, of course. Not!

Halloween was a pain in the rear...little monsters "stink'ed! stank! stunk". Yet, I must say the costumes were quite worthy of my grudgingly approved Grinchyness. Thanksgiving will be a treat, a metaphorical failure of the heart, as they eat squawking turkey things while stuffing their faces with sugar-plums and what-nots. Bah Hambug...he he he.

Don't even get me started on Christmas, who even remembers that it is Jesus' birthday and not their own. Does Santa whisk Jehu's gift off to the Heaven pole. Feliz and Humbug!

As the year dragged on, Grinchy's patience wore thin. He tried to escape the madness by locking himself in his study, but even there, he couldn't find peace. The teens would blast their music at full volume, and Great-Aunt Mildred would barge in to share yet another cat story.

One particularly dreadful day, Grinchy decided he'd had enough. He grabbed his pen and paper and began to write a scathing letter to the universe, detailing every horrid moment of the past year. He poured his frustration into every word, cursing the lazy teens, the annoying relatives, and the general misery of all the world combined.

When he finally finished, he read the letter aloud, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction. "Bah humbug!" he declared, shaking his fist at the sky. And with that, he crumpled up the letter and tossed it into the fireplace, watching as the flames consumed his grievances. Maybe Santi Klaus will get the ashes at the Naught Poll.

As the fire crackled and the smoke curled into the air, Grinchy couldn't help but chuckle. Maybe, just maybe, things would get better. But for now, he was content to embrace his inner Grinch and let the world know just how horrid the past year had been.

And so, Grinchy McGrumpface lived on, finding solace in his/her grumpiness and the occasional laugh at the absurdity of it all. Bah humbug, indeed. 🎄😆

Ye gads! I need more words...Blast, I YAM going to be visited by ye old Scrooge-like Thanksgiving and Xmas ghosts.

Grinch the Grump and the Ghosts of Xmas

The Holiday king of ghosts got real tired of McGrinchy Grumpface and sent three ghosts to set him straight. But will the ghosts give up and run away. Will McGrumpface remain a Grinch.

It’s a twisted tale of Grinchy McGrumpface’s encounter with three tenacious, yet ultimately thwarted, ghosts:

In the midst of one particularly bleak winter's night, Grinchy McGrumpface slumped in his rickety old armchair, grumbling about the year that had passed. He had just settled into a particularly satisfying scowl when a chilling wind swept through his study, rattling the windows and extinguishing the fire. Out of thin air, a ghostly figure appeared, draped in translucent robes and glowing with an ethereal light.

"I am the Ghost of Christmas Past," the specter intoned, "Come to show you the joy you once knew." 🎄👻

Grinchy rolled his eyes. "Joy? Bah! Let's get this over with."

The ghost whisked him away to scenes of his childhood, filled with laughter and merriment. But instead of feeling nostalgic, Grinchy just crossed his arms and huffed. "What a waste of time. Next!"

"Your heart is two sizes too small". The ghost yelled as the Grinch bellowed with awful scary laughter, more a yodel than a laugh, I think.

The Ghost of Christmas Present appeared next, a jolly giant with a booming laugh. "Come, see the happiness you could be sharing today!"

Grinchy was dragged to bustling holiday markets, lively feasts, and warm family gatherings. He found it all excruciatingly cheerful. "Are we done yet?" he snapped. The ghost sighed in frustration and vanished, leaving Grinchy even more entrenched in his grumpiness.

Finally, the Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come emerged, a shadowy figure that exuded an aura of dread. "Behold the future that awaits you, should you not change your ways," it whispered menacingly. 🎄

Grinchy was shown a lonely, dark future, where he lived in complete isolation, forgotten by everyone. But rather than being frightened, he smirked. "Peace and quiet? Sounds like paradise."

The ghost stared at him, incredulous. "You truly have no heart," it lamented before disappearing into the night.

Back in his study, Grinchy chuckled to himself. The ghosts had tried their best, but he remained as stubbornly grumpy as ever. As the dawn broke, he muttered a final "Bah humbug," and went back to his surly ways, content in his own cranky company.

And so, Grinchy McGrumpface stayed true to his name, unmoved by ghostly interventions and perfectly content to be the grinchy author he always was. 🎄

Wait! Where is the motivation, you ask. What is the Moral of the story.

Don't be a Grinch. DUH! 🎄👻😂