Children of the Corncob

The enormous three headed dog stared out on the now frozen Styx. It is awfully cute to see a confused dog give the quizzical look with his head turned sideways. It is something altogether different to see the hellhound turn all heads to various angles as he tries to make sense of this scene.

It had been ages since the boatman had gone this long without moving. usually there were just the few moments while he waited for passengers to enter or unload and then it was off again. It was rather relaxing to sit in boat and trace pictures into the frozen river. Maybe he would make a hole and try fishing. Maybe he would sharpen his feet and try skating. He threw one of his many gold pieces out on the ice and watched it skip out of view.

Finally one of his 6 nostrils picked up a scent besides frozen water. He knew this scent but it was usually on fire. He couldn't remember if he had ever smelled coal before it had been set aflame. A little later one of his 6 eyes caught some movement. His heads turned again once again confused as he saw an oddly shaped man hovering across the ice. He had a very round bottom half that didn't so much taper up as it concaved into a slightly small but equally round torso. He hadn't seen anyone enter with one of those hats for over a hundred years but here came one now.

Frosty stopped about 50 yards from the dog and stared at the cavernous opening into the earth. He stared at it almost entranced until a gold piece skipped past him and pulled him from his reverie. A wooden arm moved impossibly fast to catch it before it was out of reach. He looked at it for a time and then tucked it away into the ribbon around his hat. "Good Luck, that." He thought.

He stared at his arms. Once thin and beautiful from an old maple tree he had upgraded them to lignum vitae. He had tried to stay as true as he could to his original materials, but he couldn't pass up the beautiful steel, serrated, cone he had found in Japan. What good would a button have done where he was going?

We won't go into how the broom had changed. Suffice it to say that any floor you swept it with would be in a much sorrier state after its cleaning.

An icy mist coiled out the corncob pipe. It circled though the air til it reached the nostrils of Cerberus. Suddenly he felt that he had not rested in a very long time. One by one his eyelids began to close and he just had time to turn a few circles and get comfortable before he lost all sense of the waking world and began to dream of two-faced bitches.

"It's time", thought Frosty. Soon they will all know what a cold day in hell is really like. Soon the bookies will revise the chances of a snowball there. Soon his blades would fall upon the demons like a hail storm. And he will only pause a moment when he hears them whimper, "Stop..."