"It's cold," said Calvin.
"Yes, it is," agreed Hobbes.
The reason the two friends were talking was because it was the only thing in this world that could keep them warm. They were covered from head to toe in snow, basically because they'd just had another freak sledding accident. The sled was in pieces, so they didn't bother trying to save it. They were walking back to their house where their backyard joined with the woods.
"On a scale of one to ten?" Calvin asked.
"Twelve," Hobbes replied.
That was a pretty bad crash.
"What'll we tell your mom when we come back without a sled?"
"I doubt she'll notice. I mean, Christmas is only a week away, and she's probably all worked up right now with shopping for people Santa can't give gifts to."
"Speaking of which, how have you been with your goodness level?"
"Ah, it's pretty good, but not so good as to be worthy of that grenade launcher I asked for. I'd need to do something pretty big. Last year, all I got was a bunch of stupid clothes. Can you imagine the disappoint I felt?"
"Yes. You didn't stop talking about it for weeks."
"This year, I'd better get something good. I've worked hard to be as good as gold."
"Yes, and you've expressed that by throwing snowballs at Susie, Moe, and your parents all day."
"Hey, it's winter. I might as well have some fun, right?"
"Yeah, but if it's out of cold cruelty, it's considered to be evil, and I highly think that Santa isn't going to forgive such circumstances unless you can actually make up for it with a spontaneous act of good will."
"Man, that guy's got me everywhere I go! Can't he realize that we bad kids can be—"
"You just called yourself a bad kid! Santa might have heard that!"
"Aw, geez!" Calvin moaned. "I might've just ruined any chances of gift giving!"
He turned his head to the sky and shouted. "I DIDN'T MEAN THAT, SANTA! I'M A GOOD KID! HONEST!"
Hobbes rolled his eyes and continued on. "You worry too much about this. Santa will give you at least one gift."
"Well, if that's the case, then it might as well be zero."
"Careful! You might give Santa ideas."
"I DIDN'T MEAN IT!" Calvin shouted. "I'LL TAKE WHATEVER YOU GIVE ME! PROVIDED IT'S NOT GIRL STUFF OR CLOTHES!"
"This is that time of year when whatever you say could effect your present chances."
"I know, which is why I need to be super careful not to be bad. If I want any loot this year, I've gotta prove to Santa that I can be super-good."
"How're you gonna do that?"
"I'll be as good as I can be! I'll do ten spontaneous acts of good will each day until Christmas. Santa will like that, won't he?"
"He might."
"Great! We'll start right now! What's the first thing we could do?"
Hobbes looked and saw Susie in her yard. She was trying to push the second part of her snowman into place.
"We could help Susie," he suggested.
Calvin saw her. "I dunno. We'd be violating one of the several rules of GROSS."
"Ah, come on. We'll just say it was the spirit of Christmas that made us do it."
Calvin pondered this thought over until he finally said, "All right, we'll do it."
They walked across the yard to Susie.
"What do you want?" she sneered.
"In the spirit of Christmas, we're going to help you build that snowman," Calvin said.
"No way," Susie grunted. "I've seen your snowmen, and I'm not going to let you turn mine into a deranged-looking monster."
Calvin was about to turn away, but he saw Santa looking down on him, so he didn't give up.
"But I'm trying to be helpful."
"No, you're just trying to be good so that Santa will bring you gifts."
"So?"
"So that's bad."
"No it isn't. You're in need of help, and I'm going to help you, whether you want me to or not."
Before Susie could stop him, Calvin was pushing against the second snowman part with all his might. He pushed so hard that he went straight through the giant snowball and then got his head stuck in the bigger one.
"You idiot!" Susie shouted. "You ruined my snowman!"
Calvin moaned to himself. "So much for spontaneous acts of good will."
Susie kicked Calvin with some snow and ran inside.
Hobbes dug him out.
"Another fine mess you've gotten me into, Hobbes," Calvin sputtered.
"Well, if I'd have known she was going to be so hostile, I wouldn't have suggested it."
"A fat lot of good that did me. What am gonna do? Santa probably thinks I did it on purpose!"
"Maybe you could do something that's actually useful."
"Like?"
Hobbes pointed at the snow shovel that had been abandoned for the sled ride. It was in the front walk, which was only half-clear.
"Oh, no!" Calvin moaned.
"Hey, it's either that, or we'll have to resort to more drastic measures, like being nice to Rosalyn."
"Okay, fine, if you're gonna be like that about it."
Calvin grabbed the shovel and started to dig. Hobbes watched from the sidelines.
"You know, you could stand to improve your résumé, too, buddy boy," Calvin said grumpily.
"My résumé isn't tattered beyond repair," Hobbes shot back.
Calvin was tempted to fling a shovel of snow at him, but he remembered Santa, and he managed to resist.
Hobbes sat in the snow near the sidewalk, watching people go by. To his surprise, instead of cheery smiles, everyone had dark scowls on. Comparing them to Calvin, Calvin seemed to be a ray of sunshine!
"It seems that bad moods can spread pretty fast," said Calvin. "That's the beauty of it."
"Calvin, I don't think these people are triggered by your bad mood, although I'll admit that you're bringing me down."
"Ignore it. They'll cheer up later on when its Christmas morning and they get their own loot."
It took a good half hour, but Calvin finally finished shoveling the walk, and just in time, because Dad pulled into the drive.
"Phew!" breathed Calvin. "That's one spontaneous act of good will down, and nine to go. I'll bet I can score another one at dinner if I don't burp."
"And another, if you actually compliment your mother's cooking."
"There, that's three we can check off! We just need seven more before bed!"
Before they could go on, they heard Dad slam his door shut. They whirled around and saw him stomping up the snowless walk.
"Hey, Dad! I shoveled the walk!" Calvin called.
"Big deal," Dad said icily. He stomped up the steps and into the house.
"Hey, get back here and praise me!" Calvin shouted. "You spent all morning trying to get me to do this, so I'd better get some appreciation right now!"
Hobbes rolled his eyes and entered the house, leaving Calvin standing in the snow, gritting his teeth.
When he finally decided to come inside, he went straight to Mom.
"Mom, Dad won't thank me for shoveling the walk!" he whined.
Mom grunted and didn't look up. She was fiddling around with the checkbook.
Calvin glared up at her. "You know, any time you'd like to show some sympathy for my prolonged suffering, I'll be right here staring at you."
Mom answered that one. "Calvin, go upstairs and whine to your stuffed tiger."
Calvin grunted. "He won't listen. You're the only one left. Now explain this inexcusable behavior right now!"
"Hey, I can talk to you any way I want, mister," Mom said coldly. "Now go up those stairs right now, and don't come down until New Years."
Calvin's face fell. "But what about Christmas?"
"We'll throw your expensive gifts at you."
Calvin snarled angrily. He turned and stomped up the stairs. "This isn't over! MARK MY WORDS!"
He was right. This bad attitude was far from over.