santa pringle was sitting calmly on his big blue couch he bought two years ago. he truly loved this specific couch, but no one knew why. it was just his favourite.
"this hot cocoa is ho-ho-epic!" he squealed to himself.
he stared out of his newly installed window. he loved that window, purely because it cost a lot.
"i should probably put this is the fridge before it gets to ho-ho-cold!" santa was a jolly little man. he liked so many things, including hot cocoa. and his blue couch. and his newly installed window. he also loved talking to himself, sometimes even in his sleep. sometimes he mutters out very personal things at sleepovers. one time he told taylor swift, his mortal enemy, his phone number by accident. ever since that day, she spammed him with ads for idiot juice.
"woah! this fridge is epic!" santa opened his fridge he had had for years. he really liked it. "i wanna close this fridge so bad" he muttered to himself. he also liked doing that. not closing fridges, muttering to himself. i dont know why he wanted to close his fridge so bad.
anyways, he slammed the fridge intensely. VERY intensely. so intensely that he actually ended up flying across the kitchen. no, i am not kidding. he flew across the floor and banged his back very hard on the wall. he was hurt. hurt that his favourite fridge would do this to him.
"you little crinkle crankle crap cake!" santa got up (slowly) and angrily stared at the fridge. he was angry. it was embarrassing how angry he was at a fridge. but he didnt care. he doesnt ever care. ok he actually does just not very often.
ok anyway, he kicked the fridge in revenge and angrily (but slowly) made his way back to the living room, where he could just relax with his blue couch and look at his favourite window.
as he was looking out the window, doing nothing, he heard something. it was knocking. on his front door. "I'M HO-HO-COMING!!" he screeched and got up (again). the knocking stopped. but it started again once santa took like 8 years to get to the door (he is very slow).
"I'M COMING JUST HO-HO-WAIT!" santa yelled as he tripped painfully onto the floor. he didn't like that, so he stood up. stumbling across the hallway, he finally made it to the front door.
"holy cracker" he mumbled under his breath as he heard the person behind the door knock for the third time. as santa opened the door, he immediately recognized who it was. an old friend. a very old friend. santa hadn't seen him in a full week. it was alexander hamilton.
"a-a-a-alex?!" santa couldn't help but blush at the sight of his old friend. he looked down in attempt to hide is now red face, covering his face. he was obviously stunned by hammy's outfit. it was gorgeous, after all.
hammy's fit:
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he wasn't wearing shoes fyi.
this is what santa is wearing:
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"d-damn... your s-so p-p-p-pretty" santa mumbled under his sticky breath (what???). he attempted to hide his blushing face once again. he failed, so instead he struck a cute pose. thats another thing he loved doing, striking cute poses.
"what was that, boopy pee bear?" alex chuckled, skipping right past santa and sitting on the blue couch. this made santa mad. he didnt even tell him to sit on his favourite couch! but... he looked... so cute... santa let him and sat down next to him.
"h-h-h-hey..." santa looked at hammy as he breathed sadly.
