Christmas humor

by Bill Tiepelman

Tiny Guardian of Christmas Joy

Baby Groot's Christmas Caper: The Candy Cane Chronicles It was a picturesque Christmas Eve, snowflakes drifting through a quiet forest lit by the warm glow of moonlight. Peace and serenity reigned supreme… except for one tiny sapling with grand ambitions and absolutely no impulse control: Baby Groot. Tonight wasn’t about carols, cookies, or goodwill toward men. No, tonight was about proving one thing to his crew—that he, Groot, could outdo Santa Claus. Earlier that day aboard the Milano, Rocket Raccoon had casually shared his latest holiday escapade: stealing the galaxy’s largest candy cane from Xandar’s festival of cheer. “I had to dodge three laser grids, two angry elves, and one psychotic nutcracker,” Rocket bragged, his paws clasped around a mug of eggnog. “No one’s got better Christmas swagger than me. Face it, Twig, you’re small-time.” Groot didn’t reply—he didn’t need to. His tiny eyes narrowed, his twigs bristled with determination. Somewhere deep in the recesses of his wooden soul, he vowed to execute the most legendary Christmas heist ever. Candy cane? Pfft. That was just the start. Groot’s plan would put Santa, Rocket, and the entire holiday season to shame. The Perfect Heist Step one: Scout the forest. Groot knew the Christmas squirrels—known for their obsessive hoarding of holiday goodies—were the key to his success. They were small, fast, and rabidly territorial, but they had the largest stash of candy canes, cookies, and tinsel this side of the galaxy. Groot crept through the frosty woods, his Santa hat bobbing jauntily atop his wooden head. The squirrels were gathered around a bonfire made of peppermint bark, singing what Groot could only assume was some kind of rodent holiday anthem. He had to act fast. “I am Groot,” he whispered to himself. Translation: “Time to shine.” Step two: Create a distraction. Groot reached into his “inventory” (read: random junk he’d picked up from Rocket’s workshop) and pulled out a tiny holographic projector. With a press of a button, it lit up the clearing with an image of a jolly Santa riding a sleigh pulled by screaming raccoons. The squirrels went wild, chirping and chittering as they darted toward the projection, leaving their candy stash unguarded. Step three: Execute the grab. Groot tiptoed toward the candy cane—a monstrous, glittering confection so large it had to be propped up against the Frost Pine. He reached out with his tiny arms, ready to claim his prize. But just as his fingers grazed the cane, disaster struck. The squirrels realized the holographic Santa was a fake. With a collective shriek of betrayal, they turned toward Groot, their beady eyes filled with rage. “I am Groot!” Translation: “Oh, crap.” The Great Escape Clutching the candy cane like his life depended on it, Groot made a break for it. The squirrels gave chase, their tiny paws pounding through the snow. They were faster, but Groot had one advantage: reckless ingenuity. He leapt onto a sled conveniently parked nearby (clearly left by a less fortunate holiday victim), using the candy cane to pole-vault himself downhill. The squirrels followed, diving into the snow like tiny, angry torpedoes. Rocket, hearing the commotion from miles away, decided to intervene—not out of concern, but because he couldn’t bear the thought of missing whatever disaster Groot had caused this time. “What the hell did you do, Twig?” Rocket shouted, jet-packing down the hill to meet Groot, who was now using the candy cane as a makeshift snowboard. “I am Groot!” Groot yelled back. Translation: “Winning Christmas!” The chase ended spectacularly when Groot, Rocket, and the entire squirrel horde crashed into a snowbank. The candy cane, miraculously intact, flew through the air and lodged itself in the Milano’s side hatch. Gamora, stepping outside to investigate the racket, took one look at the scene—Groot covered in snow, Rocket laughing hysterically, and a dozen squirrels attempting to gnaw through the ship’s hull—and sighed. “Why is it always you two?” The Aftermath Despite the chaos, the crew decided to make the best of the situation. The candy cane, now too big to remove from the Milano, was decorated as a Christmas tree, complete with lights, ornaments, and Drax’s contribution: a homemade star made of duct tape and knives. Groot danced around the tree, his Santa hat askew, clearly pleased with his handiwork. “I am Groot,” he said smugly. Translation: “I told you I could top Rocket.” As the crew gathered around the glowing candy cane, sipping drinks and exchanging questionable gifts (Star-Lord had re-gifted socks for the third year in a row), they couldn’t help but admit one thing: Groot had truly captured the spirit of Christmas—messy, chaotic, and absolutely unforgettable. Just as they were about to toast to the holiday, Groot stood up on a box of ornaments, raised his tiny arms, and declared, “I am Groot!” Translation: “Next year, I’m stealing Santa’s sleigh!”     This whimsical holiday moment featuring Baby Groot is available for prints, downloads, and licensing through our Image Archive. Bring the magic of "Baby Groot's Christmas Caper" into your home or project with a high-quality rendition of this enchanting fan art. Explore this image in our archive.

by Bill Tiepelman

Frosted Wings and Winter Whimsy

Christmas Chaos: The Winter Wonder Saga Ah, Christmas. The time of year when everything sparkles, smells like cinnamon, and the idea of "peace on Earth" is as elusive as the matching pair of socks you swore you bought last week. For Mallory Frost, however, Christmas wasn’t just a season. It was a battlefield. And she was a warrior armed with sarcasm, caffeine, and a budget that laughed at her every decision. The Tree of Terror The saga began, as it always did, with The Tree. Mallory’s husband, Greg, insisted on a "real tree" every year because, apparently, the faint scent of pine needles made him feel like a rugged mountain man despite the fact that he once sprained his wrist opening a jar of pickles. This year’s tree was no different. It was a 10-foot monstrosity that looked majestic in the lot but resembled a green mutant once jammed into their tiny living room. After three hours of wrestling it into place—and one broken lamp later—they finally stood back to admire their handiwork. "It’s leaning," Mallory deadpanned, sipping her third glass of wine. "It’s whimsical," Greg replied, his hands on his hips, as if he'd just sculpted the damn Sistine Chapel. Whimsical, sure. If "whimsical" meant it looked like the tree had a secret life as a professional dancer who just couldn’t quite stick the landing. The Great Gift Debacle Next came the gifts. Mallory prided herself on being organized, but somehow her plans always spiraled into chaos by mid-December. It started with her niece, Lily, whose Christmas list included something called a “Rainbow Glitter Unicorn Robo-Dog.” Not only was this thing sold out everywhere, but it also sounded like the kind of toy that would definitely require batteries and give her nightmares. Her solution? A glitter-covered stuffed unicorn she found at the discount store. When Lily opened it on Christmas morning, Mallory was fully prepared to play the "Santa must’ve misread your list" card. She wasn’t proud, but desperate times called for desperate measures. And then there was Greg, who was just as impossible to shop for. His hobbies included watching YouTube videos of other people fixing cars and misplacing his tools. So she got him a gift card to the hardware store. He would roll his eyes, but at least he wouldn’t sprain anything trying to use it. The Cookie Crisis Baking cookies was supposed to be fun. That’s what the Hallmark movies promised, right? But in reality, it was an exercise in patience and profanity. Mallory’s attempt at gingerbread men ended with half of them looking like crime scene outlines and the other half looking like they’d been through a particularly rough breakup. “Why does this one only have one arm?” Greg asked, holding up a deformed cookie. “Because life is hard, Greg,” she snapped, shoving another tray into the oven. “And sometimes gingerbread men lose limbs, okay?” Even the sugar cookies weren’t safe. The frosting tubes she bought refused to cooperate, leaving her with Christmas trees that looked like they’d been decorated by a blindfolded toddler and snowflakes that bore a striking resemblance to squashed spiders. The Neighborhood Drama Then there were the neighbors. The Hendersons down the street had outdone themselves with their Christmas lights again, turning their house into a blinding beacon of holiday cheer. Mallory’s contribution was a single string of mismatched lights around the porch and a wreath that had seen better days. "Why don’t we put up more lights?" Greg asked, staring wistfully at the Hendersons’ synchronized light show, which was choreographed to Mariah Carey’s "All I Want for Christmas Is You." "Because I like our electricity bill under three digits," she replied. "And because I refuse to enter into a suburban arms race with someone who owns a light-up reindeer family." But the real drama came on Christmas Eve when Mallory discovered that her cat, Mr. Whiskers, had climbed the "whimsical" tree and was now perched precariously near the top, batting at an ornament like it owed him money. “Greg!” she yelled. “The cat’s in the tree again!” Greg rushed in, tripped over a pile of wrapping paper, and somehow managed to bring the tree crashing down in a shower of tinsel and shattered ornaments. Mr. Whiskers, of course, landed gracefully on the couch, looking smug. "Whimsical," Mallory muttered, pouring herself another glass of wine. Christmas Morning Chaos By the time Christmas morning rolled around, Mallory was running on four hours of sleep and half a pot of coffee. The kids tore through their presents like caffeinated squirrels, and Greg managed to use his new hardware store gift card to "fix" the coffee table by making it slightly less wobbly. It was a Christmas miracle. As Mallory sat amidst the chaos, surrounded by crumpled wrapping paper, cookie crumbs, and the faint scent of pine, she couldn’t help but laugh. Sure, the tree was crooked, the cookies were ugly, and Mr. Whiskers was plotting his next move—but it was her chaos. Her wonderfully ridiculous, gloriously imperfect Christmas chaos. And that, she decided, was the real magic of the season. That, and wine. Definitely wine.     Add a Touch of Magic to Your Holidays If the whimsical charm of "Frosted Wings and Winter Whimsy" has captured your heart, why not bring it home this season? Whether you're decorating your space, searching for a unique gift, or simply looking to add some holiday cheer, we’ve got you covered. Explore these delightful options: Framed Print: Perfect for adding a touch of festive magic to your walls. A stunning centerpiece for any room. Tapestry: A cozy and whimsical way to transform any space into a holiday wonderland. Puzzle: Bring the magic to life piece by piece with this charming and fun holiday activity. Throw Pillow: Add comfort and festive flair to your couch or bed with this cozy, decorative piece. Make this winter season unforgettable with these enchanting treasures. Visit our shop for more magical holiday creations!