So, yeah. I found this on my computer and I brittanified it. I mean, why not? I needs some Brittana fluff after than angst fest I'm writing.

The original story is mine, the characters are not.

Frostenstein

"Eat snow, turd face!"

Brittany S. Pierce flailed about wildly, her head stuck inches deep in the soft powder. Her bully of a stepbrother, Noah Puckerman, the inflictor of the cruel and unusual punishment, was laughing manically as Brittany tried to voice her complaint concerning asphyxiation. Unfortunately for Brittany, all that came out was "Mmumph! Ompf kimpf mimph!", which seemed to fuel Noah's reasons to continue with the torture, thus creating a vicious cycle.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the circle was broken and Brittany was thrown upon the concrete driveway, purple faced and panting. Noah grinned at the sight.

"You won't be smiling for long, Noah," Brittany gasped, dragging a soggy duck mitten across her runny nose. "Wait till I tell my mom you almost killed me again."

Noah raised a single eyebrow, dark eyes twinkling mischievously. "Are you sure you want to do that, little sister?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Brittany pulled herself to her feet, the world spinning around her as oxygen rushed to her brain.

"Well, you relaying this incident to mother would require me to tell her what a special certain someone was doing on a special certain day. You wouldn't want me to do that, would you?...My…special…certain…someone?" Noah continued, dragging out the four words as long as possible.

Brittany's face drained of all remaining color. "…you wouldn't."

Noah's grin stretched across his eleven-year-old face. "Who are you trying to fool?...You know I would do it in a heartbeat." Noah, enormous grin omnipresent, strutted past Brittany and knocked her into the neighboring snow drift. The slamming of their deck door announced Noah's arrival into the deliciously warm kitchen.

Brittany remained in the snow, tears silently streaming down her face. Oh, the injustice of it all! Oh, the gods were surely conspiring against her! How can that demonic fiend be her brother, and this close to Christmas, too! What had she ever done to deserve a stepbrother like Noah? What almighty force of nature decided that she, easygoing, wonderful, nice, and incredibly good looking Brittany be stuck with cruel, beastly, insane, and hideous Noah Puckerman? What kind of person could do that?

Exhausted, Brittany wearily pulled herself up from the snow the second time that day and trudged into the house.

Brittany stepped back to better examine her creation. It didn't look as good as the Frosty the Snowman song suggested it would, but she had tried. The eyes, supposed to be made of coal, were two irregular and bizarrely shaped rocks, with cinders from her stepfather's grill compressed around them to make "coal" (as soon as Brittany placed the rocks in the face of snow they reverted back to their natural state, the blackness spreading around them like spilled ink, or dripping mascara). Its nose was a baby carrot, since Brittany had decided that a button nose was preposterous, and there were no regular carrots to be found in her kitchen. There was no corncob pipe, but in its stead was a long stick complete with small branches that had refused to be broken off.

The head, of which all of the aforementioned substitutes to a traditional Frosty face were compiled, was most disproportional compared to the rest of its body. For the remaining two orbs, roughly the same size, had created quite the obstacle for the tiny seven-year-old to overcome. She had seen no other method but to make the head as small as possible and, with all its features firmly in place, attempt to toss the head upon the overly large shoulders. It was barely there, and the mouth and left eye had become lopsided, but otherwise Brittany was quite proud.

The Frosty of the song had an old silk top hat that made him come to life, to play with the children; Brittany's creation had a red felt beret that would—hopefully, but not likely—make him come to life, so that Brittany could have her revenge against her stepbrother without actually having to do any work.

Brittany took a second look, and decided that Frosty definitely needed some cheering up. "You're not ugly. In fact," Brittany continued, trimming down its waistline, "I would bet anything that you'd be a great hit at the parties. Ladies dig personalities."

"If that's so, you're never going to get a date."

Brittany spun around to face a sneering Noah, her face creasing in a frown. "What did I do this time?"

"Nothing. I just came to see what you were doing." Noah raised a single eyebrow, signaling to Brittany that something horrible was about to happen. "Why? Do you want me to do something?"

"No," Brittany said hastily, "it's just that—"

"What's that, little sister?" Noah interrupted, cupping a hand around his ear as if he were listening. "You want me to destroy your snowman?"

"No! Don't, Noah! Please!"

"But you worked so hard on it," Noah said, pretending to have a conversation with Brittany. "It would be a shame to just…destroy it."

"Noah! Stop! Don't be a jerk!" Brittany fell to her knees, arms raised in a plead. "Don't do it!"

"What? What's that? Do it? Okay, Brittany," Noah said, grinning maliciously. "I'll destroy this abomination for you."

Noah approached Frosty, and Brittany lunged for his leg, all the while crying, "No! Don't do it, Noah!" Noah collapsed on the ground, and, furious, shook his leg violently. His foot clipped Brittany's nose, and Brittany relinquished her grip with a cry, hands immediately going to her face.

Meanwhile, some peculiar things were happening to Frosty. Was that a glimmer of undead energy in the rocks that served as Frosty's eyes? Did his arms, two sticks propped upon the ground with (hideous) floral oven mitts attached, just twitch?

Both movements went unnoticed as Noah jumped up and stalked towards the snowman, now free of Brittany. Brittany, sobbing on the ground and cursing her stepbrother's name, was sure of the imminent doom of her Frosty. If she knew her stepbrother as well as she thought, even the beret would cease to exist.

But a faint, lilting tune caught Brittany's attention. Noah had left the radio on, and through the half open window Frosty the Snowman came pouring out. Brittany, seized with sudden inspiration, cried passionately, "Frody! Come to lide! Dod led Noah hurd you! Proteg yourself!"

Noah began to laugh manically, and, managing between gasps, said, "You—you think this piece of crap is going to come to life! That's hilarious!" Noah's fit of hysterics didn't distract him from his task; he leaned back, preparing to shove with all his strength, and—

Connected with an oven mitt. The stepsiblings' eyes widened in amazement (Noah's more from fear, since he was right in front of Frosty). A moment of awkward silence settled over the trio, all three frozen—Noah's hands still against the oven mitt, Frosty's oven mitt-hand-thing still raised in defense, and Brittany still motionless on the ground. Even the blood, which had been flowing freely down Brittany's face, was now stilled.

Frosty broke the spell by narrowing his eyes. Noah, realizing what was about to happen, stumbled backwards, but he couldn't defend himself from the furious oven mitt assault. Frosty was twisting his middle orb from side to side, which would swing his overly long arms and batter Mark's face and head with his "fists."

Brittany began to cheer from the ground, shouting such encouragements as, "Noah ib geddig bead up by a downan!" and "Geeb id up, Frody!" However, the torture didn't last very long, much to Brittany's disappointment; Noah was able to quickly dart under Frosty's reach and retreat to the house, the door once again slamming.

"Dad wad awedome, Frody!" Brittany leapt up from the ground and rushed towards Frosty, fully intending to give him a hug for his valiant rescue. "I knew madig could hadden!"

Brittany wrapped her arms around her snowman, but quickly withdrew at the bizarre noises Frosty was emitting. It was a mix between Darth Vader's wheeze and the moan of a dying, feral animal. It was very disconcerting, and made Brittany wonder if Frosty was suffering from irreparable brain damage due to the size of his head.

"Frody?" Brittany asked, all worry and apprehension. "Are you oday?"

Frosty moaned again, and then his head made several 360 degree turns, circumnavigating the entire expanse of his shoulders. It took several seconds for his head to stop, but when it did, he fixed Brittany with a look of recognition and malfeasance.

Brittany was completely oblivious.

"You…" Frosty began, somehow managing to form the previously incoherent moans into understandable words, "you…created…me…"

Brittany blinked. "By, yed I did." She drew himself up a little higher, and fixed Frosty with a now haughty grin. "I did greade you."

Smack!

Frosty's hand connected with Brittany's face, the outline of the oven mitt visible on Brittany's cheek. Brittany raised a tremulous hand to the now swelling cheek. "Whad did you do dad dor?" she whispered.

"You…made…me…You…brought…me…to…life…as…an…abomination…as…a…snowman…" Frosty's eyes narrowed, his moaning becoming more of a heavy pant as he struggled for words. "Why…do…you… think…I…did…that?"

Brittany's jaw dropped.

"And…now…I…am…going…to…get…my…revenge," Frosty wheezed. "By…killing…you…and… devouring…your…soul!"

Brittany's eyes widened and her mouth opened in a silent scream. For precious seconds she was unable to move, and Frosty loomed ever closer, his stick lips inconceivably managing to part, his mouth like a black abyss. It leaned forward, mere inches away—

"SOBEONE SABE ME!" Brittany added a piercing shriek at the end of her plea, stumbling backwards and sprinting across the small yard. Frosty was blocking the way into the house, and Brittany would have to make a wild dash around it. Though Brittany was pretty sure Frosty couldn't move; she didn't put boots on him…

But poor Brittany was proved wrong! Frosty's bottom orb groaned to life and began rolling, propelling him onward across the yard like a wheel!

Brittany turned back just in time to see Frosty's hideous, leering face speeding towards her. She screamed again, and ran faster—right into the fence. Brittany, face smarting from impact, spun around to face the oncoming threat like a woman: face defiant and fists raised as she valiantly fought to the very end even while cornered.

"Plead dod gill me! Id dorry!" Brittany fell to her knees, openly sobbing. "Id dorry! I wond do id again!"

"Too…late…for…that…" Frosty's face, expression strangle reminiscent of Noah's earlier that morning, was a mask of cruelty as he added, "…father…" Brittany closed her eyes tight, but not that it mattered—Frosty devoured Brittany's soul, leaving her to suffer eternal torments in the snowy limbo for many lifetimes.

But…Brittany cautiously patted her chest, neck, and face, accidentally brushing her nose. She winced. If she was dead, her nose was still in mortal agony. But now that she's dead, is it immortal agony?

Brittany opened her eyes cautiously. And saw a beautiful angel with dark hair and a white-toothed smirk, leaning on a shovel! What the—

"It's okay," the angel said, patting Frosty's decapitated body. "It's all over."

Brittany gaped, and looked about for the head. The angel (though she didn't look any older than Brittany) pointed behind her, and saw the former head splattered against the fence. The beret, which had enchanted Frosty, was lying harmlessly by Brittany's knees.

Brittany looked up at her personal guardian angel, and managed quietly, "Are you an andel?"

The girl frowned. "I don't think so..." She patted her body to make sure, dropping her shovel in the process. "I'm Santana. I moved in next door a few days ago.

"I heard you screaming, so I decided to help out a damsel in distress," she continued, yanking Brittany to her feet. She brushed snow off her bright yellow winter jacket and stepped back, giving her a quick once over.

Then Santana the Angel winked, and Brittany fell in love.

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