Ned’s 2020 Adventures
December 19-21, 2020
December 19, 2020
Progressive soup is great for so many things. Ask any elf and they’ll tell you that “For Eating” is nowhere near the top of that list. Vegetarian Vegetable?! Even the redundancy of the soup’s name is enough to make a glucovore’s stomach retch in dismissal. Ned decides it’s imperative to return to his diet consisting of 90% simple sugars. Phoebe’s candy drawer is just the place to start—the only spot to be honest. Ned’s lone complaint about his December home is the lack of consistent treat availability. He took it as a personal insult when he heard that Brad declined his mother’s offer of her annual shipment of Christmas cookies. That trust will take some time to earn back.
December 20, 2020
Your classic scene of an elf cleaning up a body of evidence. That may have come off a bit macabre, especially to anyone who’s ever watched a gangster flick. Ned is merely disposing of a 16 oz. Mountain Dew Code Red. Ned has been warned repeatedly to stay away from this red version, having not liked it the last couple times he’s tried it. He rationalized this time that a bit of red liquid would combine nicely with the green of traditional Mountain Dew—a favorite among elves—to create a festive color palate. Despite this reminder of his disgust with the Code Red, odds are he’ll give it another go next year. This is similar to how humans crave Olive Garden about once a year. It’s when that first forkful of the entrée enters their mouth that they realize why they haven’t been back in nearly 12 months.
December 21, 2020
Having finished every treat in the candy drawer, Ned scoured the kitchen for hidden treasures. He did so under the auspice of preparing for the Big Guy’s rapidly approaching visit. Not seeing the dog on the front of the container, Ned performed his duty as taste-tester. To be fair to Ned, visual clues can be drowned out by the overwhelming sounds of a growling stomach. I once raided a friend’s freezer and consumed the lone remaining single-serve cup of ice cream—one of those little tubs they sell in middle schools that come with a miniature wooden tongue depressor as a spoon. A few days later, when the dog was about to be rewarded with a Frosty Paws Peanut Butter Flavor ice cream treat, I was told the lid I had tossed away was clearly labeled with a cartoon dog.
