I do not own American Horror Story: Freak Show.

But I would like to have a little fun here.

A Winter in Wisconsin

Marshmallow World

'It's a marshmallow world in the winter . . .'

Jimmy Darling was having a bad day.

'When the snow comes to cover the ground . . .'

He'd pulled ice breaking duty. Again.

'It's the time for play, it's a whipped cream day . . .

The Pinheads, Salty and Pepper, wouldn't stop joyfully pelting him with snowballs every time he tried to walk to the mess tent.

'I wait for it all year 'round . . .'

Laughing and clapping their gloved, snowy hands. Bobbing their tobogganed heads like deranged overgrown children.

'Those are marshmallow clouds bein' friendly . . .'

And when he mistimed his ducks, the snow melted down his neck, wetting and chilling his spine all day.

'In the arms of the evergreen trees . . .'

But his hands, his stupid, fused, freak, lobster hands, well, they still sweated like thoroughbreds in his thick gloves.

'And the sun is red, like a pumpkin head . . .'

The sun was a mockery, only coming up to remind them the damned snow was still there and would never go away . . .

'It's shining so your nose won't freeze . . .'

. . . but providing no warmth at all it seemed.

'The world is your snowball, see how it grows . . .'

He hated how cold everything was.

'That's how it goes, whenever it snows . . .'

Inside. Outside. Everywhere.

'The world is your snowball, just for a song . . .'

Last night, he'd warmed up a can of soup on the stove, too cold and stubborn to trudge to the mess tent. Stupidly left the dishes in the sink, soaked with melted snow water.

'So get out and roll it along . . .'

And this morning, they'd been frozen, stuck solid. And he couldn't get them out.

'It's a yum-yummy world made for sweethearts . . .'

At first, it had been fun to take leaks in the snow.

'Take a walk with your favorite girl . . .'

Drawing pictures, writing his name.

'It's a sugar date . . .'

But then it just got cold. And it wouldn't go away.

'What if spring is late . . .'

Taking dumps was even worse. What he wouldn't give for indoor plumbing, just once in his life.

'In winter, it's a marshmallow world . . .'

That stuff stuck in the summer, it stuck just as bad in the winter.

'The world is your snowball, see how it grows . . .'

The only good thing was you didn't have to worry you were squatting over a snake that was about to get really pissed off.

'That's how it goes, whenever it snows . . .'

Or pissed on.

'The world is your snowball, just for a song . . .'

Jimmy rubbed a tired, frustrated mitten hand over his face.

'So get out and roll it along . . .'

There was nothing to do, no show to put on, no new girls to talk to.

'It's a yum-yummy world made for sweethearts . . .'

He couldn't even . . . well . . . it was too cold to even do that for release. He was afraid it would freeze off.

'Take a walk with your favorite girl . . .'

He wanted the snow to melt.

'It's a sugar date . . .'

He wanted to go to back to Florida.

'What if spring is late . . .'

He wanted to stop hearing that damn song.

'In winter, it's a marshm-'

Jimmy Darling threw open the door to his frigid trailer and glared at the man bundled up like a little, round snowman happily building a snow fort in the middle of the still, frozen camp.

"MEEP!" he bellowed into the still iciness and the little man squeaked in fear, trembling and cowering in the snow.

"I swear to god, if you don't shut that crap off, I'm going to break that radio!"

The terrified little man snatched up the warbling transistor radio off an abandoned chair and meeped away, slipping and sliding through the worn path Jimmy spent his life shoveling.

Across the way, Ma's caravan door abruptly opened and she appeared on the threshold, bundled up like a bearded snow queen. Glanced first at her fuming, half-frozen son, then at the disappearing, meeping figure dwindling away to the other end of camp.

She turned back and looked at him, her face smooth and expressionless.

He ignored her, slammed the door back, and thumped back down into his bench, trying to warm his hands around the rapidly cooling cup of coffee.

Disgusting swill. So weak, it's barely even coffee. More like hot water.

He sipped the bitter brew.

Tepid water.

He sat there, glaring blindly at the trailer wall.

I don't care, I just don't care. I couldn't listen to that stupid song anymore!

He sat there, cold and stubborn and angry.

He's got to learn there are other people around here as well! It's not just him!

For about two minutes.

Then . . .

Crap.

Jimmy Darling stood up and left his coffee cup on the table.

I better go check on the meeping little weirdo.

And stomped out into the cold world to look for his odd little friend so he could apologize. Maybe help him with his damn fort.

And unbeknownst to him, his bearded mother watched him from her ice-frosted caravan window.

And smiled.

I hereby dedicate this chapter to the1upguy who reads something he's never even watched and will hopefully appreciate this chapter for what it is. Suffering, baby. And funnies ;)

Gosh, when the snow's nice, it's nice. And then when it's not, I turn into a raging miniature Yeti. Grrr . . .

The dishes frozen in the sink is actually a true story from my mom and her first house with my dad. Apparently, she screamed so loudly and furiously that my dad built her a whole new house. See? Yeti.

Okay, I must confess, 'Marshmallow World', sung by Dean Martin, was released in 1949. So I'm two years early here. But I just couldn't resist ;)

Anyway, thanks to brigid1318, the1upguy, Jurana Keri, and partyperson25 (oh, don't worry, we'll address that issue soon enough) for graciously reviewing.