Ice from Heaven

Ice from Heaven

As most astronomers know, a giant meteorite slammed into Northern Siberia in 1908. Or so they think, judging by the size of the crater. The truth is that it wasn't technically a meteorite. Was it a spaceship shaped as a snowman inhabited by animate soccer-loving fecal matter? No. It was a tiny icy comet slung out from the sun's orbit at light speed. Anyone familiar with Einstein's theories realizes that mass traveling that fast actually becomes energy. Although this energy obliterated all living matter for miles around the point of impact, it also gave life to a large colony of snowmen completed by the village craftsmen only minutes before the Siberian tundra was transformed into a charred wasteland. In their infinite wisdom, the snowmen migrated north to avoid silly humans with their bodies of blubber.
On the day that our story takes place, it was almost sunset, and the weak northern sun glinted off the beautifully chiseled face of Klishty as silver reflects a fire. Klite the snowboy sighed as he saw her flitting across an iceberg, flirting with similarly chiseled snowmen as she deftly dribbled a skullball from foot to foot. Finally, she flipped the ball up and kicked it into the goal, right between the goalie's legs. As she celebrated, the goalie ruefully gazed into the eye sockets of the official size and weight polar bear skull, as if to ask why it had allowed such a thing.
"Yay Klishty!” Klite cheered. She turned and rolled her eyes, although Klite decided to pretend she really meant to wink. Klite couldn't play skullball as well as the other children. Before Ice from Heaven breathed life into the snowmen and death to the villagers, one of the craftsmen brought his young human child to the Field of Sculpture. The result was Klite, small yet round of form and incontinent of bowel. The other snow children all had legs and were warned to run away from the pretty brown icicles that resulted, but despite many medicines and reconstructive surgeries, Klite's problem continued.
Klite was not an unhappy child. He knew that someday Klishty would love him. She was a very shallow creature, always pouring her affection on whatever took to her fancy. Rumor said that she once spent several years trying to make an icicle fall for her. Despite this tendency, she was a fearsome warrior, always returning with the frozen blood that the snowmen needed to thrive. Besides this, Klite had begun his own creations. None of Klite's sculptures were granted life by a chunk of cosmic ice traveling at light speeds, but there was always hope. In fact, due to his irregularity, he had a large amount of sculpting material right next to him on the sidelines. He happily hopped around before getting down to business. What should he make this time? A miniature seal? An icicle spear? His parents always said that creating likenesses of himself was disrespectful to Ice from Heaven, but what if he only made a likeness of his head? By the time the next skullball game started, he had a perfect sphere of hardened snowman waste.
Klash was playing midfield, as always, when Krafe from the opposing team sent a thundering kick his way to avoid a skewering slide tackle compliments of Krishty. Klash tried to stop the skullball with his foot, but the polar bear's skull snapped at the cheekbone, sending a shard of bone into his foot. As Krafe helped Klash off the field, Krishty began searching for a new skullball. Klite had a brilliant idea probably realized by the bright readers of this story several sentences ago. He nudged his latest sculpture to Krishty's feet. Puzzled, she ran a hand through her glittering hair and began dribbling the ball down the field. She gave it a hearty kick and stood transfixed as the ball sailed smoothly through the air, like a comet through the heavens.
"This is great!" she shouted. She hurried toward Krite, her bright eyes shining with excitement.
"Can we name this new sport Krishtyball?"
"Nope!" said Krite with a smile.
"I'm naming it soccer, sucker!" And he hopped off happily to start his lucrative soccer poop business.