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Glacial fields, broken by jagged ice outcroppings, stretched between ridges of foreboding mountains.
A solitary figure, with a backpack and guitar case slung over his shoulders, climbed up one of the lower slopes. He slipped and stumbled, beaten by wind-driven snow, as he fought to reach the top of the ridge. Without warning, his footing gave way and he slid downward at a frightening speed.
His shoulder bounced off a large crag, slowing him down. He flailed wildly with both hands, and grabbed an outcropping to stop his fall. The man clung there, panting, and shifted his feet around until he found a solid foothold.
He pulled himself together, checked to see that the guitar case was undamaged, then struggled on. He clawed himself to the top and saw the object of his incredible trek — an inviting valley, bathed in sunlight, with beautiful evergreen trees and holly bushes all around.
Not far from it, a tall red and white object stood by like a sentinel. Even from this distance, the traveler felt certain it was the North Pole. He took a deep breath and started down the incline toward the castle with new resolve.
Suddenly, a shaft of energy shot down from the sky, locked onto his body, and lifted him three feet in the air. He managed to get his anger under control, but his disposition remained as dark and grim as his soiled black lab coat and tangle of unkempt hair.
The old man continued his rant. Sometimes you Humbahs are so stupid. They were all surly and stubborn, especially Weasel.
He had purple spiked hair, and wore a heavily studded, sleeveless black leather jacket. His face sported several piercings, and numerous tats covered his little arms.
The commander turned back to his telescope monitor screen and watched as the traveler settled slowly back to the mountainside. Dammit, I really have to keep these Humbahs under tighter control, he thought. Evil elves with no qualms about ruining Christmas ought to make the right crew for my plot, but sometimes that independent streak of theirs drives me crazy.
Then the old man twisted to face the elf again. He sat there for a moment, unhurt, wondering what just happened. His mind spun back to the task at hand, and he stood up, shrugged, and continued his journey.
About halfway down the mountain, the traveler realized it was getting warmer — but the snow was not melting. The lower he went, the warmer it got.
This is pretty cool. He unzipped his heavy parka and pulled back the hood. Soon he reached a point where he could make out the details of the North Pole.
It looked to be almost two feet in diameter and over thirty feet tall. The traveler spotted two young elves ahead playing in the snow. As the traveler passed the North Pole, he noticed a small compartment door about three feet off the ground.
It looked like it might cover some sort of control panel and had a combination lock securing it. He wondered why it was so low, then smiled when he realized the answer.
That door is set for elf height. Wonder what it does?This is a shot of young Elvis that’s new to me. I was tickled with the caption for it on Pinterest describing what Elvis is wearing: A jacket given to John W. Heath by one of hiHumes High Scteachers who was the son of a man who got the jacket from a girlfriend who got it from Elvis after a concert.
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One great benefit of the emerging World Wide Web is the creation of the ability to quickly and easily share knowledge and information. In the Mopar cyberspace arena there are many people who have developed web sites to share their Mopar passion! This is a shot of young Elvis that’s new to me.
I was tickled with the caption for it on Pinterest describing what Elvis is wearing: A jacket given to John W. Heath by one of hiHumes High Scteachers who was the son of a man who got the jacket from a girlfriend who got it from Elvis after a concert. Essay on buddie holly Essay on buddie holly media and youth violence essays on abortion global warming essay thesis proposal.
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