Success comes too early for some. At first Prancer’s was a Cinderella story and the sky was the limit. Like a star that shines too brightly then hurls itself into the heavens to spectacularly burst into flame, it was only pretty for the briefest moments of time before it landed with a thud like a charred chunk of lumpy space rock. And we couldn’t bring ourselves to look away.
The youngest reindeer ever selected for the prestige of Santa’s Team One, Prancer was a rising star on a meteoric course with destiny. She wore it well, too, at least for a while. We loved her. But something snapped and it wasn’t an antler. The sudden celebrity was too much and Prancer was irrevocably changed. Soon she had her first sit down Paris restaurant experience. “I want the barbecue. And then I want the chicken. And then I want the ribs.”
She bloated right along with her ego.
Then there was the time she shaved her head and flashed her “lohan” at the paparazzi who lapped it all up like a pack of starving dogs. Then the incident on Rodeo Drive where she “forgot” she was carrying unpaid items out of the store. A few hit and runs. Multiple incidents of flying under the influence. A woman punched in a bar fight. And then, the worst thing of all: Rumors she was having work done.
Many failed probations later she occupies a jail cell.
This post is part of Blogdramedy’s 2012 BlogFestivus challenge where festivants are cajoled and harassed into writing nine stories in nine days about nine reindeers. Each story has to be exactly 243 words in length. Happy Festivus to all!
It’s all downhill for poor old Prancer then!
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Yep! Curse you, early success! There is no hope now…
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You can’t have her in jail come December 24th. She’s got to pull a load…of toys. Prison break perhaps?
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If I remember ye olde rules of BlogFestivus, I believe I can do anything with the reindeer I want. (I hope that doesn’t sound too sick.) So Prancer is going to have to sit this one out until she pulls her head out and her shit together.
Will she help guide Santa’s Sleigh?
Neigh.
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“Then there was the time she…flashed her “lohan” at the paparazzi who lapped it all up like a pack of starving dogs.”
Oh my god, that’s hilarious. And disturbing. Mostly the “lapping it all up” part.
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You have a keen eye, my friend.
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I was about to make the same comment. So disturbing, but genius as well. Slow clap for you, my friend.
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Love the “lohan” bit. Brilliant!
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Wee! Thanks! My advise, as always, is: Don’t mess with the “lohan.”
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Thanks, Amy. “Slow clap” FTW! Message? None that I am conscious of, except of course, “Merry Christmas!”
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Oh, what to do with the girl! Leave her where she is? Yep, totally agree. 😉
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Poor Prancer. Are we supposed to cry for her? Pity her? Or support her when she inevitably shows up on Dr. Drew’s Celebrity Rehab?
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I blame the media for its obsession with self-absorbed ungulates.
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The media destroys what it creates. More drama that way. By the powers vested in me by the Blogfather I officially deem “ungulates” an all new BlogFestivus lohanism. Congratulations!
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I mean really with a name like Prancer we should not be surprised.
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I see we think alike. Sorry to insult you.
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