Romantically Apocalyptic 4.5

ENTRY 122__23 - HUMAN SUBJECT CHARLES SNIPPY - PERSONAL ID 04477645.
...

Guess what? I've managed to construct a sled out of junk, so now I no longer have to carry all the things in a massive backpack that threatens to snap my spine in half.

You'd think that Captain or Pilot would be a slight bit helpful in carrying things, but no. Captain refuses to carry anything heavy because doing such would be "MOST UNDIGNIFIED" and "ISN'T THAT YOUR JOB?" and Pilot refuses to do anything I ask because I am not Captain aka "MASTER OF THE UNIVERSE". I'm beginning to suspect that Pilot's juvenile behavior / overbearing idolization of Captain is just the tip of the iceberg of a massive psychological trauma.

Captain praised me for "MOST MARVELOUS FEAT OF MERRILY-SLIPPERY-ENGINEERING" and declared me as "THE EMPLOYEE OF THE MONTH" which has earned me nothing but Pilot's enmity.

Pilot keeps trying to steal the sled for purposes of either destroying my accomplishment or to use it for sledding on it off the tallest garbage pile around.
After "a stern talking to" has failed, I attached a cow-bell to the sled. Now it jingles loudly if he tries to carry it off.
Unfortunately, the ringing has got rather annoying as I quickly found out.
I tried to take the bell off, but Captain it seems has taken a liking to the ringing and attached two bells to it while I was sleeping.
With each passing day the number of bells tied to the sled increases exponentially, no matter what I attempt.
I've tried cutting the bells off and throwing them away into a deep snow crevasse. I tried burning them. I tried crushing them.
Nothing works. The number of bells grows with each destructive campaign of mine.

Where do they keep getting all of these god damn bells from?
Pilot vanishes pretty often, so I assume he's either wasting all his time scavenging the wasteland for bells or is building Captain another horribly disfigured shrine-statue.

Eventually I just gave up on fighting the bell-war and nearly right away Captain has given up on sticking more bells to the sled. Perhaps Captain's whole plan was to mess with me, or they've run out of bells or maybe the sled had no more places to tie bells to.

I sincerely hope that one morning I will not wake up with the tip of my mask painted red with plastic deer horns super-glued to my head. Oh who am I kidding, it's going to happen anyway, Captain is already calling me "RUDOLPHE, THE GRUMPY-RAIN-DEER".

While I pulled the sled Captain got into the habit of perverting Christmas songs:

"CAPTAIN IS COMING TO TOWN. HE'S MAKING A LIST. HE'S CHECKING IT TWICE!"

With Pilot chiming in:
"SNIPPY'S GOT COAL IN HIS SHOES, BECAUSE HE IS NOT NICE!"

Distracted with shaking pieces of coal out of my boots, I failed to notice that Captain and Pilot climbed a small ruined house and were trying to shove our bags of canned foods down the chimney.

"WHAT ARE YOU TWO IDIOTS DOING?" I shouted at them.

"JUST THINK OF ALL THE LITTLE GOOD BOYS AND GIRLS!", Captain responded.

"YEAH, SNIPPEY. YOU'RE SO INCONSIDERATE TO NEEDS OF THE CHILDREN!" Pilot flapped his arms rapidly, nearly slipping and falling off the icy roof.

"What? Children?! Stop that RIGHT now!" I yelled.

"WHERE'S YOUR SPIRIT OF JOLLY-NESS?" Captain inquired, trying to shove a bag tree sizes too big to fit down the chimney.

"YEAH! START CELEBRATING CAPTAIN-NESS AND BEING MERRY OR ELSE!" Pilot shook his fist too vigorously this time and lost balance plummeting off the roof into the snow below.

I stared at his feet that robustly wiggled back and forth from the snow-bank, sighed and went inside the house to collect our bags out of the fireplace. Inside the house I was met with a most eerie scene: a family of skeletons positioned on mold-eaten couches around a badly burned pointy branch that somewhat resembled a Christmas tree. The christmas-tree-branch was covered in pieces of tinfoil-cutout stars and had a drawing of Captain's face on the top with angel wings.


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