Category Archives: 2021

A Christmas Story 2021®

December Prison Log 1.

My name is Major General Thunder, and I have lost count of how many days I have been locked in this prison. Somehow Charlie captured me during the war. I’ve been in here so long, I don’t even remember anything about the war. The only thing in my memory is this small, cold prison.

I would punch through this flimsy plastic holding me in, but they’ve tied my arms and legs back with some sort of wire. Even though I can see others in their plastic cells staring back at me, I still feel utterly alone. They keep the ponies and other brightly-colored animals in cells similar to mine stacked on the other side of the aisle from me. 

In some sort of twisted sense, they’ve made the prison more festive. It must be the holidays out there. The shelves that hold the creatures’ cells across the aisle have been trimmed with garland, multicolored lights, and shiny, red balls. Musky smells have been replaced by smells of cinnamon and sugar.

They’ve begun to use music as torture. If I hear this woman tell me that all she wants for Christmas is me again, the madness might finally take hold of me. I have tried to communicate with the animals across the aisle to form an escape plan, but the language barrier and lack of use of my hands has proven formidable. Their vacant stares and glossy smiles tell me any attempt I made would be fruitless anyway.

Charlie has some sort of sick method of using children to choose who stays and who gets freed. The kids are giants. Some thunder down the aisle in excitement, some jump up and down, and others just knock a bunch of the cells off into the floor and leave them for a person in uniform to pick up and replace later.

It isn’t known where they take the prisoners when chosen by a child, but the excitement in the children’s voices seems to indicate it is a pleasurable place. We all secretly hope to get chosen. It is the only way out. No one escapes.

It has been several months that I have been in containment. I can’t tell if the clear plastic holding me in is helping or making me desire to be out more. The loneliness has set in though. It’s something you never get used to. 

As the holidays approach, more and more of my comrades have been taken to the land beyond. A few children have looked my case over, but none have selected me. One left a fair-sized booger on my containment cell. It took the uniforms weeks to finally clean it off. 

One second. A child has poked my cell. His parent came back and placed me in a carriage of some sort. I think this is it. I’m finally getting out of here. I will report back when I reach my new location. 

Thunder out.

December Prison Log 2

I was wrong.

Charlie moved me from one prison to the next. This one, though warmer and more homie, offers no light. As soon as I arrived my prison was wrapped in a decorative paper. Now I can’t even see the other prisoners. 

It’s strange though. I feel as if this is where I am supposed to be. There are many voices that pass by periodically, but when I hear one of them, a little boy’s voice, I get a sense of belonging I don’t quite understand. This boy is familiar to be deep down in my bones, but I don’t recognize his voice. Perhaps it is due to the effects of Charlie’s memory wipe. Somehow it feels like more though. Somehow we are connected. 

The conversations I hear now are from outside are less orderly and more intimate. Where before I heard orders on where to store the prisoners, now I hear conversations of close friends or perhaps family. 

Whatever my situation, I feel my imprisonment is coming to a close. And not with a sense of doom or dread. There is an electric sense of childlike anticipation in the air. It is only a matter of time now. I will report back when I am able.

Thunder out.

December Prison Log 3

The day of my release has come and passed. 

On Christmas Day, the boy ripped open the paper over my cell, tore the cell open, and cut my ties. He has played with me all day. My plastic joints already feel loose from all of the fun we’ve had. 

I understand my purpose now. I will serve this boy as I served my country in my life before Charlie took my memory. We have already slain enemy soldiers, dinosaurs, and brightly-colored ponies. The boy’s sister was upset about the latter of these.

This is my final transmission. I am no longer imprisoned. I have begun my mission. My purpose has been realized. 

Carry on, HQ. And Merry Christmas.