Murder at the McCompound

The snowman is dead, a victim of apparent violence.

I went out yesterday for half an hour to run a couple of errands. When I left he was still standing, well leaning, but stable. When I got home, he was a just pile of broken snow. I would have chalked it up to gravity except for the boot prints. They were made by a large foot. Someone had clearly had kicked my man down. His brains were spewed onto the sidewalk and couldn't have flown that far naturally.

I think it was my new skeevy neighbor. The stuck up girl with the long hair seems to have a new boyfriend. He's not nice and treats her badly. I guess it's better that he kicked my snowguy to death inside of kicking her. Maybe it spared her from a little abuse for a moment.