MM Snowed Under

 

The Millennium Group, in gleeful anticipation, journeys up to a mountain cabin for their annual Halloween 'poker, beer, and schnapps' blow-out. With excellent foresight based on years of experience, they bring along plenty of wooden stakes, strings of garlic, and gallons of holy water, so that nothing will interfere with hearty expectations. In their eagerness to escape the exigencies of demon-deleting, however, they lamentably forget to pack any cards. Or food. And, just as they recogize this ominous oversight and prepare to rectify it, a massive blizzard strikes, trapping them in frigid isolation for the foreseeable future.
However, years of facing down the prince of darkness has stiffened the collective spines enough to constrain panic and instill them with staunch determination to make the best of an adverse, if perilous, situation. Firstly is the effort to eliminate the mind-numbing effects of extended boredom, which is cheerfully effected by eating up all the garlic and competing in a gas-passing contest. Also, the group engages in lively games of charades (favorite words - perdition, disembowel), hide-and-seek (best places - the chimney and crawlspace), snowball fights, leapfrog, yodeling funeral dirges, and riverdancing.
Sadly, the energy level eventually flags, spirits plummet, and a pall permeates former hilarity. Even more afflictive, the words 'Donner party' flashes into everyone's minds, leaving them anxious, fretful, and intensely sober. Frank, per his proclivities, has visions of group members on a spit, and everyone begins to furtively eyeball each other's fleshy shanks.
In order to deflect these unsettling possibilities, the group inaugurates various distracting hi-jinks which have unfortunately degenerated to the level of practical jokes. This consists of sending Gieblehouse out for kindling, locking the door behind him, and listening to his piercing shrieks as he is mauled by a passing grizzly. Later, when Peter dozes off, they place a bag over his head, cover him with snow, and yell 'avalanche' until he defecates his entire body cavity. Frank, with his unique perspective, begins uttering 'doom, doom' over and over until the group is forced to cram him under the disposal.
Peter, sunk into ponderous despair, suddenly brightens with a serendipitious thought and yells, 'Hey, this is a cliffhanger! We're gonna be ok!' Before this wondrous fact can sink in to the assembled and woeful group, a knock comes at the door. There, on the threshold, in morbid array, are hordes of monsters, demons, ghouls, and corpses. The group breaks out in a collective coronary until realizing that they are merely viewing a throng of lively trick-or-treaters trolling for loot. With a large infusion of cash and promises of future largesse, the kids are prevailed upon to lead our chastened and silent group back to civilization. The last scene of our tale is especially gratifying. The group spends the rest of their holiday at Disneyworld, and plays innumerable rounds of golf, where Frank trys to pry fish heads out of his throat with a nine iron.

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