//finally got an idea I can run with! <3
Username; Bentley
Name; A Monster, Mister Grinch // Burglar (also fondly nicknamed "Grumpelstiltskin" by the children)
Age; 5 years
Gender; Male
Halter; Rusting iron and old, rotty leather
Story;
You're a mean one, Mr. Grinch, you really are a heel...
When it comes to Christmas, kids love certain characters. So the barn had started up the yearly tradition of dressing certain tolters up and setting them in a special set of stalls for a night at the local park for their Christmas celebration, which involved schools and small organizations decorating each and every shelter with Christmas and holiday signs, stand-ups, blow-up characters, lights and animatronics, some static, some set to music, and others weaving together a story for the brave, warmly bundled folks who walked the path, and the families who rolled their various cars through the winding, twisting, impossibly narrow road in a train of headlamps and brake lights.
Last year, it had been Mortuary, Moose and Beamer, dressed up as a trio of reindeer, and the little star of the group, Kev, as Rudolph. It'd been a hit, sure, but the theme had to change, and the children who visited Moose Trail voted an old classic - The Grinch. Naturally, the sourpuss Burglar, dyed green with a spray dye, had been chosen to be the star of the stall, with Isaia dressed as poor Max in the reindeer costume, and Messenger playing the part of sweet little Cindy Lou Who. The lights were easy - a single strand, only partially put up, with the rest trailing into Burglar's stall, and a plywood sled and "Santa's Bag" spilling out in front of the doors.
And that's about the only two parts that went right.
With Isaia and Messenger in the stalls on either side, Burglar was beyond unhappy. Their cheerful, loving attitudes clashed magnificently with his grumpy, unchangeably stormy temperament, and he wasn't having it until they'd stuffed his feed bag with treats and slid solid dividers over the low walls between each stall. And he was calm, for the most part... until the lights came on, a half an hour after sunset.
The ceremony to turn on the lights was a little bit of a party - the mayor was always there with the big switch, the local high school band turned up to play Christmas music, the news teams turned up, and a handful of hardcore Christmas celebrators stood by and watched, before the couples would start heading over to the buggy with the huge, lone shire horse for the little romantic ride around to see the lights. It'd always been that way.
Burglar, though, had something more in mind.
Just as the lights came on, he threw a fit, and bashed open the door without so much as a whinny of a warning. With the little strand of lights from the stables' decor trailing from his mouth, he started racing through the shelters, hooves kicking and knocking over decorations and signs alike as the snow flew behind him, covering what hadn't been torn up from his breakneck gallop.
When he was finally stopped, it had taken the combined efforts of Isaia, Messenger, the shire (harness haphazardly shrugged off), the local police and three handlers to bring him back under control, and the damage was... extensive. Over half of the shelters had been wrecked, and would need a day or two to repair, or at least be made presentable, and the long line of cars filled with eager children and lovestruck romantics had to be turned away.
Burglar didn't have to take presents to steal Christmas, that year. And it didn't come as a surprise when the parks department requested that he never be used in the barn's Christmas cast ever again.
You're as cuddly as a cactus, you're as charming as an eel, Mister Grinch --
You're a bad banana with a greasy black peel!
