The Grinch and Tom Turkey (Patreon)

Our first two sketches of Holiday icons, The Grinch growing with his heart, and Tom Turkey learning about Tofurkey. A Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to all our patrons, and thank you for your support! See you in 2020!

Every Who down in Who-ville knew about the Grinch’s heart. Last Christmas it grew three sizes, but that was only the start. The Grinch had been growing all Christmas season, he had grown to the size of the hulk, for no good reason. His biceps were each as big as rare roast beast, and his pecs were double that size, at the least. But the one change that left all the Who’s silent was his height- the Grinch was huge! A jolly, green giant!

The Grinch came lumbering down from his mountain lair, and the ground shook at each step, with dread in the air. The Grinch smiled brightly as he strode into town, a more welcome expression than his retired frown. As he now dwarfed every Who, which was clear to see, he announced in a booming voice he’d help set up the tree.

In the woods, with a fist the size of a monster truck tire, he ripped out the biggest tree, and then two more for a fire. He then gathered gifts in a sack the size of a boulder, tossing that and the tree over his mountainous shoulder. Now carrying Who children that wanted a view, the Grinch was now set on decorating the tree, too. With ribbons and orbs and bright lights all aglow, this cheery green hulk would give Who-ville a show! 

With legs tall as houses and a back wide as a street, the Grinch used his great strength to make sure all was nice and neat. The Who’s had never seen someone make a Christmas star, by bending twisted metal from a rundown car. Ornaments were made from all the Grinch’s old weights, they looked grand on the tree, for old barbell plates. Finally, as he chugged down a tank of eggnog laced with protein, he polished the star, to a shimmering golden sheen. Carefully he placed the star on the tree’s very tip-top, the Grinch admired his work; he had made this year’s Christmas really pop!

November and December is a time of year all turkeys should dread, but not Tom. Tom Turkey, of Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade fame, had been the holiday’s unofficial mascot for years, despite the fact that anyone would be hard-pressed to find a turkey actually looking forward to the holiday season. He had been paraded around for years, just missing a suburban father’s butcher knife each year thanks to a Presidential Pardon, but always fearing a baster wasn’t too far in his future. But then, Tom had discovered a special group of people: vegetarians. In this new age of alternative cuisine and veganism, Thanksgiving was now Tom’s favorite time of the year. In that time, a few friendly vegans had introduced him to Tofu Turkey, green bean casserole, buttered biscuits, ambrosia, sweet potatoes, and his personal favorite, pumpkin pie. A couple of years since, and he had been invited to half a dozen vegetarian Thanksgiving feasts every November, and it was finally started to show; not that Tom minded. For years he had been terrified of putting on weight, lest someone think he looked a little too plump and tasty, but now he could finally indulge, let go of any idea of dieting, and relax. This new mindset, after a year or two, came with very predictable results.

Now he was savoring the last slice of a very, very large pumpkin pie that had been made just for him- vegan-friendly, naturally. The plate rested on the biggest butterball of them all; Tom’s gut. Filling his lap and then some, his belly had ballooned over the past few years, a testament to how his attitude on dieting had changed. His giblets wobbled along with his multiple chins as he chomped down on more pie, chipmunk cheeks billowing out. His own pair of flabby turkey arms jiggled as he shovelled more into his hungry maw, finally polishing off the last bite.

He leaned back a bit, shifting immense thighs that would’ve made amazing drumsticks, and got comfortable, resting on a rear that was in steep competition with his impressive tail feathers as to what would fan out and cover more space faster. In some ways, Tom wasn’t just getting used to it; he was loving it. Tom took fistfuls of his own fat and chuckled softly as he rubbed small circles in his chunky thighs. He patted his belly, sending ripples across that feathery boulder, he grinned at the thought of waddling down the street and getting hungry looks from people seeing his thick, juicy rump, and knowing they’d never get a bite.