Freeze-Frame
Written by StylishRapo

1/2

"Darn it, it's so freakin' cold out here!" Taffy spoke aloud to no one in particular, his arms wrapped around his body in an effort to keep warm, "How does anyone even live in the Frozen North?!" What certainly didn't help was the fact that every step he took was on at least a foot of cold snow, as well as the constant wind buffeting him without relent. Taffy grumbled lowly to himself for another short while, before his eyes gazed upon something that wasn't there before.

Even through the windy snowfall, there was what appeared to be some kind of miniature castle in the distance.

"Holy fizz, finally; some shelter!" Taffy exclaimed, his mood elevating considerably and immediately quickening his pace toward the castle. He let out a small, shaky sigh as he drifted closer. "Maybe I can warm up for a bit, even get some directions to Santa's place..."

With his newfound energy, it didn't take him long before he reached the front door, wasting no time in unwinding one of his arms to knock on it. While waiting for a response, Taffy allowed a bit of curiosity to shine through, glancing around the surroundings of... What seemed to be called "Fort Frosty", judging from the rather large and colorful sign above the door. Giant candy canes stuck out of the ground nearby, and as a clay person based around candy, Taffy could tell that they were unfortunately fake. Ordinary penguins also were loitering around, though he couldn't tell if they were wild or domesticated.

Must be Bad Mr. Frosty's place, Taffy thought to himself, before realizing in horror just what that meant. He quickly shook the thoughts away, before the cold, painful memory could set in. Nah, he wouldn't try THAT again... It was an accident, right? Just an accident...

The door opened soon enough, drawing Taffy's attention back to the task at hand. When his gaze met with a strangely muscular snowman (who, as Taffy could remember, was Bad Mr. Frosty himself), he didn't hesitate to state his business.

"Hi, excuse me," He started, doing his best to keep his voice steady against the cold around him, "It's freezin' out here, and I'm pretty much lost. If I could just, ya know, crash for a bit and have some directions to Santa's Workshop, that'd be g-" Taffy was then cut off by the slamming of the door. For a few moments, he was stunned, before getting peeved.

"Rude son of a-!" He muttered to himself, before knocking on the door again, this time more aggressively. "Hey, abominable snowman, open this door! That's not how ya treat visitors! What'd I ever do to ya, anyway?!" The large amount of knocking noise eventually caused the door to swing open again, but this time, Bad Mr. Frosty was angered by Taffy's actions. So much so, that his wooden claws gripped Taffy's eyestalk, stretching it toward his face.

"Word of advice," Was his low-pitched warning, sounding intimidating to behold, "Turn around, get off my property, and go back to wherever you came from." Those choice of words indicated that Bad Mr. Frosty didn't recognize Taffy, and while he should've felt like at least acknowledging this request, he wasn't deterred in the slightest, actually scoffing at the thought.

"Seriously?" Taffy replied sourly, though attempted to pull his eyestalk away from the grip of the snowman, "I already got this far! I ain't givin' up now!" It was then that Bad Mr. Frosty give a sinister smirk at the yellow ClayFighter.

"Well, then allow me to help you get started," He replied, pulling Taffy's body closer, Taffy himself being unable to tell what the snowman was arranging his body into until it was too late. Despite his yells of defiance, it didn't cease, and suddenly he felt himself being stretched forcibly. Normally, it wouldn't have bothered Taffy in the least to stretch his body, but when someone else did it, it was a very unpleasant feeling.

"Have a nice trip, Noodle Boy!" Bad Mr. Frosty spoke again, suddenly releasing and sending Taffy flying off in an unknown direction. He let out another yell of shock, eventually landing in the foot of snow in a crumpled heap. He lay there, dazed, until the sound of the slamming door from afar alerted him again, new rage building from his core. He bolted upright, his aforementioned rage canceling out the cold around him.

"'Noodle Boy'?!" Taffy blurted, standing straight up and marching toward the fort once again, hands in tight fists. "That's it! No more Mr. Nice Taffy; if I have to beat ya to a pulp to get some directions, then I'll do it!" Once he got to the entrance, he lifted his left leg, before striking it against the door, hard as he could. However, the action was futile, the door not budging a bit; as well as a sudden, sharp pain shooting up the leg in question. It had been so intense, Taffy found himself crumpling to the ground a second time, it making him unable to stand.

"O-Ow...! Oh... Oh my God..."

It took him a while, but he managed to get on his feet again, though kept the injured left limp, resting the weight of his body more toward the right. Once it was bearable to walk on both again, he went to raise his right leg to try once more, but a new idea came to mind, lowering it. Instead, he backed away from the door by several yards, readying himself to run.

A running start should give me all the strength I need! He thought in confidence, before beginning to sprint to the door. At close range, he leaped, his right leg jutting out in front of him as the rest of his limbs pressed close to his body. Unlike last time, the door tore off its hinges, and Taffy landed right on it, uninjured. He made a victory stance in pride of his work, his arms risen to the ceiling with a large smirk on his face.

"Yes, I've conquered the door!" He cheered at himself, his eyes then looking straight ahead and lowering his arms to prepare for battle, "Ya hear that, Frosty? I'm gonna kick yer ass!" He left the unhinged door where it was, going off to search for the snowman who angered him so badly. Taffy did notice that his left leg still hurt to walk on, but he didn't let it stop him, searching high and low. As some of his sense returned over time, it was then that Taffy at first realized that the temperature of the fort wasn't much better than the weather outside.

Figures, He thought to himself again, although it didn't stop him, The weird thing's that it's not buggin' me anymore. Eh, too angry to care. That's probably it.

"What the Hell are you doing in my Fort?" The abrupt comment startled Taffy, stopping in his spot when he'd heard it from behind. He quickly turned, Bad Mr. Frosty not even ten feet from him. "I thought I told you to go home."

"Yeah, and I thought I told you," Taffy paused as he approached Bad Mr. Frosty, shrugging off the shock, "-That all I needed was some rest and directions. And what'd ya do? Slam the door in my face, and then shoot me off like a freakin' rubber band! That, is not, how ya treat visitors."

"You're on my property," Bad Mr. Frosty retorted boldly, the taffy ClayFighter not at all intimidating to him despite a small height difference, "I have the right to treat others on it the way I want." Using both of his hands this time, he gripped the top and bottom portions of Taffy's torso, lifting him over his head and stretching him, which caused Taffy to comically stick out his tongue and go wall-eyed from surprise. "And no weak, lanky pieces of clay can tell ME otherwise! You got that, Noodle Boy, or do I have to beat it into you?!"

"Are ya some kinda idiot?" Taffy replied as well as he could once he recovered, though the stretching of his body made it difficult. Since he knew well that he was open to an attack, there was little else he could do, other than squirm helplessly. "Noodles don't... S-Stretch! And my name's not 'Noodle Boy', it's Taffy!"

"I don't care what your name i-wait..." It was then that Bad Mr. Frosty paused, yet kept his grip firm. He had a look of confusion now, feeling as though a memory was just out of his reach, and he wanted to find out what. "That name sounds familiar... Haven't we met before?"

Taffy froze and went limp, his eyes widening at the situation being presented. I really, really, REALLY don't wanna to be reminded of this, He berated in his head, before forcing himself to switch back to what he was doing before, It's better if Frosty doesn't remember. I don't want anyone's pity, nor do I even want to...

"Who cares if we have?" He then blurted, doing the best he could to break free of this bind, physical and mental, "Now put me down, dammit!" He was surprised again when Bad Mr. Frosty did set him down on his feet, but didn't let go. As the snowman studied the stupefied Taffy in front of him further, a realization seemed to occur, suddenly releasing Taffy and stepping back a few paces.

"You... You're..." He couldn't help but stutter, watching as Taffy regained posture, "You're ALIVE!"

The sound of a ticking clock on a nearby wall was the only thing Taffy could hear as he stood in what appeared to be some kind of living room. He'd been led here and told to wait until Bad Mr. Frosty returned, and while the sound was better than painful silence, it didn't stop Taffy from getting buried in his thoughts. By this point, it was as if the fiery spirit of fighting had been extinguished, thus the coldness of the Fort (which, again, wasn't any better than outside) quickly bothered him.

Fizz, he knows, Were his thoughts as he subconsciously wrapped his arms around his body again to keep warm, And all 'cause I said my stupid name. I should've just let the 'Noodle Boy' thing go. He paused, curiously looking his body over. Huh. I kinda look like one, actually. But what kind of noodle stretches like I do? Ergh, that's not the point...

When something large had lightly hit him from behind, he nearly had a freak out. He didn't hesitate to turn to the thrower's source, only to see Bad Mr. Frosty from across the room. Taffy regained his cool as quickly as he could, giving the snowman a glare, though it was somewhat faked.

"Don't DO that!" He nearly yelled as Frosty entered the room fully. "I know this is yer Fort, but have some kind of courtesy, will ya? Jeez..." His first response was a small snicker, then a complete ignorance of what he'd just said.

"Look, I don't know how you warmies work," Frosty then continued as he sat himself in a chair made of ice, "So just fix the temperature to your liking." It was then that Taffy noticed that the thing Frosty had thrown at him was an electric blanket, though it was somehow still attached to his back. As if his body was screaming for the warmth, he donned it fully, his glare replaced with a slightly guilty expression. As the temperature was already fair enough, he instead followed Frosty's lead and sat in a different chair; though from then on, he avoided Frosty's gaze.

"Thanks," Was all he could say in response, and it was rather quiet compared to the loud-mouth he was being before. When Frosty noticed the expression on Taffy's face, and how he wasn't going to say much else unless asked, he took this time to change the topic, to one that would interest both of them.

"Now, tell me the real reason why you're here," Frosty interrogated lightly, crossing his arms and waiting for a response. Believing that the awkwardness between them will be pushed aside, Taffy finally looked at Frosty to answer.

"Well, like I said before," He started, his tone still strangely not-loud, "I got lost and needed directions to Santa's Workshop. That's all." This answer was simple, vague, and Taffy wanted to keep it that way.

"And why would you want to go all the way there?" Frosty replied, quirking a snowbrow at the taffy ClayFighter as he worded it in a way to discourage his endeavors, "Wouldn't a warmie like you prefer a climate similar to Muddville, where you wouldn't, well, freeze?"

"C'mon Frosty, it's not like I'd be outside all the time," Taffy retorted, a bit more sourly this time as he rolled his eyes, "Also, what's it to ya? Why would you care if I wanted to work for St. Nick himself?"

"Because," Frosty began, rather bluntly, "I won't have anyone starting to work for that lie-infested walrus." Taffy shut up for a good few moments, unsure if he was supposed to take that as a cruel joke, to be offended, or to take it seriously. It left him confused on how to respond for the longest time, before he had something.

"Awfully rude, don't ya think?" Came the comeback, then a small smirk as he muttered to himself, "No wonder ya don't get anythin'..."

"I heard that!" Frosty rose his voice, it surprising Taffy somewhat, "And don't make any jokes, buster; not about this. Remember the Christmas when we were molded? There was a good, solid four months for that tub of lard to recognize our existence, so tell me: Did you get anything? Did ANYONE get anything?!" As Taffy recalled that year's holiday, as well as the events of the ones that came after, his candy heart sunk.

"... No," He squeaked out, looking away from Frosty, "No one did. No one got anythin' the year after, or the one after that... But weren't we good all those times?"

"Yes, and that's the issue," Frosty nodded in agreement, standing from his ice chair now, "You know how I had that stupid rebellious phase? It's because of him that it happened. It's why I attacked him and got thrown in jail. And you want to know his excuse, Taffhy? His excuse for not getting us anything the past three years?"

"What was it?" Taffy quickly responded, standing with him as the curiosity killed him from inside. "Were we just not good enough? Was it 'cause we were made of clay? That we weren't Human? IS HE BIASED?! Tell me, Frosty!"

"'Oh, I never got your letters'," Frosty answered, imitating the voice of Santa, "'Plus, I was busy those years'. But guess what, he ate the cookies and drank the milk those years, too!" Taffy was silent for a long while, his own realization kicking in. Soon, it took all of Taffy's willpower to keep himself collected as rage tempted him to destroy whatever was closest to his reach. Though, with his stretchy range, this of course meant literally everything in sight.

"I need... To go outside for a bit," He spoke through gritted teeth, turning on his heel, leaving the room and soon, the Fort. Frosty couldn't help but follow, seeing that Taffy had removed the blanket at the doorway, and the penguins had huddled inside the Fort. Upon looking outside, he was sure glad Taffy had decided to take out his rage there, rather than anywhere inside.

From where he was standing, he watched as Taffy pulled one of the fake candy canes out of the ground with relative ease, proceeding to hit it against the ground repeatedly while screaming profanities.