Yankee Swap gifts:
Natas: The Wright Brothers book
Dead Bride: mini chain link robot by Skunk
Schlenk: fling-ama-string cat toy
Lordmcfuzz: 5 bottles 'Pickle Juice' brand pickle juice
Dr.Claw: Mechanical Counter
Precision: Luck O'the Irish!
DreadFlint: TJ's Cocoa Almond Spread
Sparrow: stained glass box made by Leotard
Threespeed: Cat tissue box cover and bonus troll
Msmoon: Quiz card game
Leotard: Space gay communist nixie tubes
NOVA: lovely notebook w/ good paper + big shirt
MSMOOOOOOOOON Mission/fashion report: (also shadowfly)
A delicious fizz of mingled anticipation, determination and dread filled the air last Saturday night as a fleet of dashing, devestatingly disheveled pilots awaited the signal to deploy all their fashion skills and graces on a mission to bring some xmass chill to the heatstruck masses.
The questions: Who would kick Claus the farthest? What lay hidden in the trailers? Could McFuzz wear less this year? Would there be Tea? What surprising presents would Santa leave tor each overly excited pilot? And how would he do it with no chimney? Would there be snow? Would the ‘real’ Santa notice the rogue July flight of 19 renegade elves and a stolen Xmas tree?
All the Xmas stars and their brilliantly decorated ships assembled on the launchpad/runway as they prepared to slap some ice-fashion on an unsuspecting population.
Pastry Queen, arrayed in a dazzling Carribean Xmas ensemble told everyone what dangers and duties to expect, explained about the RULES for reindeer games and hinted of hidden things. Maggots were duly menaced and paraded and eXceSs consulted his star-maps, setting a course for everywhere the glamour-elves and reindeer needed to go.
Diva, living up to her name, sported a bold floral, a clever pastishe in cream, green and berry… an echo of a distant xmas-past wrapping paper. Nova kept a military edge contrasting with her curls, Dead Bride went for an ice blue look, witty, with a hint of steel. Rocket did black metal Xmas, with his glamour-drone a perfect accessory. Msmoooon wore a shabby-chic elf dress, stripey shirt and jaunty cap, while Tough & Tiny donned crimson and taupe.
Hey… wait a minute… there were a couple of people in pajamas… and Leotard totally cheated by changing outfits... sort of ninjaSanta and 3spd, why plaid? I mean plaid is just sooo out! (was it ever not out?) and somebody in a very tall hat on a very tall bike removed his santapants.
You… do not get to do the fashion part Shadowfly… you’re still on probation. Where was I… Ah… Dr. Claw and eXceSs managed to make teeshirts look somehow stunning and er...effortless…
Like T-shirts, ehem, they looked like T-shirts. Ow! We said no hitting.
We said you don’t get to make snarky comments. All along the windey streets and across bridges, past sleepy parks and sidewalks full of fashion-hungry fans the fleet glided majestically, accompanied by the sounds of klezmer, metal, funk and something with whistles that went on for a very long time.
In the squares, the crowds delighted in each dazzling display, high-fives, astonished cries of happy new year… oh look, a tree on wheels, WTF and other poetic cries filled the air.
In Harvard constellation, the fashion-fleet was welcomed with stunned shouts and rejoicing … a pianist suddenly broke into jingle-bells, children screamed, adults pointed their cell-phones, and students cavorted and got stickers and more hi-fives than hands happened but nobody tipped over that time. All were safe and polished though a bit wobbly.
The games: snowball fight... lets just gloss that over. It was... brief.Claus got kicked a LOT of times by some very stylishly booted feet. Msmooooon in particular had green velvet elfboots…
No fair...You already did her. And you failed to mention a certain sleek shiny tiny bot who totally rocked a retractable nose and some added sparkly powder...And Kicking Claus is a sacred mission activity… not about the shoes… it’s all about the skill, the timing, the FORCE…
Right you. It’s even more about the style! So DreadFlint and Sparrow rode like the wind…
They almost tipped over…
Points were added up Claus was utterly unseated at least twenty times to cheers and cackles…
Ehem, Pilots signaled their approval as the target was struck with accuracy and precision.
Guests who had accompanied the fleet on much of its journey applauded wildly. Some pilots fell over with delight. Anyway… the presents…
Finally finally finally…
Pilots gathered formally in a patient and suavely sophisticated circle to receive their gifts.
There was a lot of grumbling and whimpering and I am pretty sure a tug of war over one present...
Nobody likes a tattletale mister… Everyone exclaimed and exchanged elegantly and taking turns… mostly. And at last Pastry Queen opened the fabulous secret surprise of beautiful feastly cookies with three kinds of iceream!
Feastly is not a word msmoooooon
Shut up fly. The delicacies were pronounced perfect by everyone who ate them. Celebrations went on till the battle-weary pilots started to get sleepy and lie down on pavements, so Pastry Queen ordered all the floppy fashionista elves and dozy pilots to mount their slays, trees and swoony ships for the last waltz.
Strung gracefuly across the streets, like a bunch of very bright clockwork toys lurching with tremendous dignity through the night, the fleet sailed homeward weary but triumphant and with most of their clothing.
Rocket (as the knight before xmas) weilding the great light sabre of knighting… knighted Tough&Tiny with gravity and…
Ag! Are you kidding me? He practicaly un-knighted her… I SAW a certain plaid-clad admiral WHISPERING …
Right. That’s It. You’re going back in your box…
Nonononononono ah!!! I’ll be good…
You won’t. You never are. Go to sleep.
And to all a good night.