Rows of pine looked down from the hills upon the town. Grown and regrown to be freshly cut, owners tending cash in a candy cane covered hut. Hay rides filled with families looking for trees, an unlucky father picked one with a hive of bees. For everyone had a saw in hand, stalking for the perfect tree across the land.
Krampus hid til the growing dark, crouched under junk hidden with a tarp. Creeping out around dusk after sharpening a tusk, he prowled for kids. Parent worried of pines and spruce. They wouldn't mind bite marks on little Bruce. Struggling with a roof rack and a fir; They wouldn't miss couple girls.
Only hoof and paw tracks would mark Krampus there, he would have a snack without a care. Leaving only sad confused parents at the scene, crying over what could have been.
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