YUKON ON A FUTON

Those of you who read this blog regularly, or at least recently, know that the Elf on the Shelf is on my Hit List.  I'm not even kidding -- the elf must die.  You'll also know that I accidentally stumble upon this parasite while shopping at Target.  My friend and I find an entire display of these little freakazoids, boxed up and ready to go on an aisle end-cap.

I approach the display with trepidation.  I have evil plans for this little bastard, so purchasing one just might be in the cards today.  First I take a picture of the display.  Then I move in to check the price; surely these ghastly minions must be cheap money.

Right?

Wrong.

$29.95.

Yup, you read that correctly: $29.95 to have your own house haunted and terrorized by a miniature hellion that stares and thinks and tattles to Santa.  Amazing that I can purchase a "rat" at Target a $30. I am tempted to buy one and name it Whitey Bulger.

But truly, $30 is $30, and that will buy dinner, frozen yogurt, and a new book.  There is no way I'm shelling out that kind of cash for a joke gift, even if it is for me.  So I devise a new scheme.  It may well involve running to the fabric store and buying material to fashion some miniature outfits, but I'm so busy, so incredibly, exhaustingly busy, trying to get my paper and presentation ready for Tuesday's grad school class.  I don't know when I can pull off the scheme.

Then I remember.  I haven't finished unpacking all of the Christmas paraphernalia yet.  I know I have a few toys and tricks up my own sleeve. 

Ladies, gents, children, others: I bring you Installment #1 of the Anti-Elf.

Today's episode -- YUKON ON A FUTON

My name is Cornelius:
I love silver and gold.
I escape with Rudolph -
Watch mayhem unfold;
I capture the Bumble -
Whose teeth will be sold;
I murder the Elf
On the Shelf. He is cold.
I do not regret it,
If truth must be told.
I am The Yukon
Sitting on on a Futon.