A huffing, puffing Tinkle slams the greenhouse door shut and gleefully rejoices over his victory. Why can’t they just break some of the glass windows so Frosty can escape? The artificial heat lamps should be enough. Anyway, I have problems with a lack of plausibility. Oh wait. Never mind. This is a singing snowman cartoon. In the deleted footage from this show, Frosty enjoys his sudden weight loss so much he keeps dropping pounds and pounds until he’s a puddle on the floor. We’re treated to a singing montage of Frosty’s birthday and the day’s adventures. Oh my god, it’s like an acid trip mixed with Kool-aid! With the help of Hocus, Santa arrives at the greenhouse and easily opens the door. He discovers a sobbing Karen, who’s knelt on the floor by a pool of The-Snowman-Formerly-Known-as-Frosty. Also known as:
\( * )/
( * )
“He was my frieeeennnnnndddddddd,” she bawls. Oh girlie. Look at yourself when you cry over spilt friends. It’s not pretty. Only cry when you’ve dropped a perfectly good bottle of wine. Or Grey Goose that you didn’t pay for. Lap it up from the floor if you have no shame. Santa gives a Karen a hug as she blows her snotty nose deep into his beard. Aww, now that’s what I call Christmas! Volume 237. He decides against giving her a talk about the bird and the bees and instead gently tells her that Frosty’s not gone for good, thanks to the Law of Conservation of Mass. That, and merchandising is worth way too much to kill off a beloved Christmas character. This holiday special is one of the only things keeping CBS alive, with the writers strike and all.
Les Moonves, you heartless SOB!
“He didn’t know when to stop losing weight,” she whimpers. “He thought he was still fat. I told him he looked fine, but he kept insisting ‘just one more snowball, just to get rid of those love handles.’ I didn’t know what to do! WAHHHHHHHH!” Santa comforts Karen, telling her there was nothing she could do to get between Frosty and his love of heat lamps. Eating disorders are serious, people!
But Christmas snow just goes away sometimes, like dead people and socks you put in the dryer. This is usually the part where someone tells you if you love someone, you have to let them go. If they love you, they’ll come back. But if they don’t, it’s all your fault. Alas, a gust of cold air revives Frosty (a little misshapen and chunkier than normal) sans hat. It’s a Christmas miracle! Skeevy Tinkle runs up and tries to claim his hat, but Santa blackmails him into letting go of material possessions by offering him other material possessions in the form of presents. He also threatens to strike him off his list, but you’d think Santa wouldn’t encourage untalented posers.
“No more trick cards or magic balls?” whimpers Tinkle. “Even we evil magicians have to make a living too.” Santa flogs him with his sleigh whip and orders him to write a hundred zillion penitent lines as punishment, and the magician agrees. Ah, what people won’t do for presents. Tinkle just needs to get laid. He runs away towards the town, muttering, “I’ve got to get busy! Busy! Busy!”
Intervention time. Your pupils are like saucers, dude.