Banjo flipped the lid on his can of beans and dropped each morsel upon the flames. He sighed and thought of the holiday values still creeping deep in the dark depths of his tormented soul.

It had only been three short months since the war began. Kazooie was dead. She had choked to death on glass-infused patty melt. The gruesome silver shards penetrated her esophageal membranes and reduced her digestive tract to oblivion. The beautiful crimson Breegull was buried alongside her loving husband Bottles.

Mumbo stood beside Banjo and whittled away at a small block of mahogany, forming yet another miniature reindeer in which to add to his charming carpentry collection. The shaman turned to the honey bear as his concealed ears picked up the exhaustive moans. "Banjo, this melancholy shall not stand," said the bonehead.

Banjo looked up with disdain-filled irises, his sclera painstakingly patterned with bright red cracks from the many sleepless nights he spent mourning. He clutched a fist until his palm bled. His toothpick twitched ever-so anxiously between his firm lips. "Mumbo, we gotta defeat Gruntilda, even if it's the last thing we do..."

Mumbo grunted at the meaningless heroic monologue that he heard day in and day out for the past twelve weeks of total woe. It was starting to get on his nerves more so than an unreachable itch. He twinged an eyebrow melodically to the beats of muffled Pearl Jam blaring on Banjo's portable radio.

Banjo picked up a stick and drew up a plan in the sand. He sighed between each stroke as his hands shuddered from the brisk winter air engulfing him. The snow cascaded the hills like a blanket of hatred and further enticed the demons within Banjo's subconscious to burden his spiritual zeal.

Mumbo looked at the sandy plans and rubbed his chin like a rock-a-bye baby on the treetops. The wind blew and the sounds of boughs shattering echoed from the crystal canopies. Mumbo took out his most ridiculous toenail and showed it from an awkward angle to the depressed mammal to his left.

Banjo looked onto the toenail with disgust. He licked it with his prehensile tongue until it snagged on the cuticle. Banjo withdrew with one swift muscular lap. He was able to snap the toenail back and eradicate it from the shaman's grim phalangeal complexion.

"Most obliged, Bear," said Mumbo as he unlocked his pocket-safe and took out a red and white woolen stocking. As Mumbo inserted his beautified purple foot into the vessel, Banjo could not help but notice that his friend's attire was akin to a dandy candy cane. Naturally, his mouth watered. He felt so much Pavlovian energy rock his core like a the pressurised inner sanctum of a gumball machine.

Mumbo eyed Banjo's eyes himself. He reached into his other pocket and took out another safe. Unlocking it, he removed yet another long, striped sock from its confines. This one was green in place of the red areas from his first selection. Thusly, he placed it onto his unsolved foot. He wiggled his toes to break past the uncomfortable inner threads that threatened toe-tip calluses upon its user. He eyed Banjo again.

Banjo's eyes were tearing even harder. Banjo decided this was enough yule for one day. He retired to his moldy cot in the cavern corner and pulled up a tiny blanket around his ursine ears shamefully. He took a photograph from his yellow shorts and pressed his lips to it. It was a picture of a jar of honey, the thing that all bears enjoyed to the moon and back.

Mumbo crunched his own vertebral column until he was paralysed from the neck down. He fell to the ground and bellowed in agony. He wished for the curses to stop. No such luck, of course. But there was one thing for certain this season: Santa would be back before the end of the night.

Banjo flipped over in his cot and stared up at the ashen ceiling, stained from the months-worth of sordid campfires. "No one ever comes by when the skies hang high..." he sighed, twiddling his thumbs as his chest beat repulsively. Moments later, Banjo fell into cardiac-arrest and was finally able to sleep soundly until the horrors of tomorrow caused him to arise once again.

THE END