Remember how it’s Christmas Eve? All the woodland creatures are preparing for Santa and decorating trees, from deer to owls to skunks. If this were South Park, they’d be preparing for the birth of Satan’s son, but whatever. Hocus Pocus communicates that they need to build a fire for the girl with no fur or pants, and I guess pantomiming is universal. I wonder if woodland creatures play Taboo.
Knowing that Smokey would kick their asses if the forest burned down, the animals build the fire in a clearing. Karen warms herself while Frosty avoids the flames like herpes. He and Hocus Pocus try to hammer out a plan to get him to the North Pole and to get the little girl home. Hocus Pocus suggests John Cena. And the rest of the Marines, too. Then Ghostbusters. The bunny then suggests Nixon, to the snowman’s dismay. Frosty doesn’t really trust the president of the US (he looked so sweaty debating JFK!) and disagrees. As a last-ditch attempt to get the snowman off his back, Hocus produces a beard made of snow and mimics Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. I mean, Santa.
Frosty loves it, and the rabbit calls him a dumbass. It’s hard to have a brain on drugs. Night falls and Frosty is keeping a vigil over Karen, who’s still happily toasting her hands over the campfire. Tinkle reappears. He’s an asshole who blows out other people’s birthday candles while they’re still making their wish. He has no problem extinguishing Karen’s fire, and starts making demands for reparations and the top hat, lunging towards Frosty. In what would be a potentially awkward Disneyland ride (besides the Matterhorn, where one person has to sit in between another’s legs), Frosty has the girl hop on his back and grab on where his ears would be. “My va-jay-jay would freeze off!” cries Oprah, somewhere in Chicago.
2007 Update: Karen is still childless.
Turns out Frosty has four-wheel drive settings, and they fly down the hill headfirst. As Schnozzola tells us, Frosty is da fastest bellywhopper in da world. The two stumble upon Country Nurseries greenhouse at the bottom of the hill. Urban legend: you can die from eating poinsettia leaves and a two-gallon bottle of coke and pop rocks. But apparently those allergic to latex may also be allergic to poinsettia and should steer free of the plant. Knowledge is power!
Frosty carries Karen into the greenhouse, joking that he could stand to lose a few pounds when she expresses her concern. Can’t he just carve himself a more svelte figure? I’m not gonna lie, it’s 4:30 am and ole’ Frosty has been thwarting my recapping efforts when it come to screenshots. My tv is keeping me company, but the only channels that aren’t static are telling me to invest in a Pressa Bella miracle iron or a supply of B-12 vitamins. Apparently the B-12 vitamins allow creaky old folks to lift cement blocks. But the Pressa Bella sounds like an iron made entirely out of fusilli pasta. Tempting.