Snowmen are stalking Obama. No, this is not the title of a B-movie holiday flick, nor highly bizarre propaganda. Frozen, man-made men are literally peering through the Oval Office window through button eyes, grinning coal grins as black as their souls, and we need to have a discussion.
You’re likely familiar with pediophobia patients: those who can’t calmly step in an antique shop to face a shelf full of porcelain dolls. And coulrophobia sufferers, who often won’t set foot in a circus to dare confront the clowns. But have you ever seen a passerby flinch at Frosty, amidst holiday decor? This is a fear known as hominochionophobia, and HuffPost reports that the POTUS has got the slush-crusted fever. He dished it to People–and that was his fatal mistake.
It’s okay, Barry! He just loves warm hugs!
“There’s a whole kind of Chucky element to them,” he said, with a nod–or a head-shake?–to our favorite Good Guy, mere weeks ago. “They’re a little creepy.”
“A little” was putting it mildly. He later went so far as to threaten to move when Michelle quipped that she’d place a snowman in their bedroom–if only half-jokingly.
While the FLOTUS may have been teasing, the White House staff was about to take their joke far more seriously.
They caught wind of the jolly snow family residing in the Rose Garden, neighboring the Oval Office. “Then we realized the snowmen were too heavy to easily lift,” White House photographer, Pete Souza, posted on Instagram. He exposed the yuletide prank on his profile there, in a play-by-play. “But finally, this morning before the President came to the office, some helpful staff ― I won’t say who ― moved all the snowmen so each one was peeking through a different window into the Oval. This photo was taken this afternoon as the President signed end-of-the-year bills.”
Barack was onto them. This was it. It had all come down to this: the Obama-nible snowman.
It was time to put his black belt in tae kwon do (no, seriously–look it up) to good use.
One can only imagine what happened from there. Surely, he hurtled himself through the window, delivering a swift chop to the icy bastard’s neckline. It decapitated him, leaving a lone orange scarf in his midst. Barack then performed several flips, in styles fit for an Olympian. Perhaps a roundhouse kick, direct to his portly slush gut, was the final blow, or–…or perhaps the president just doubled over in laughter. Either way, we’d like to believe that one of his final acts in office was not solely to protect himself, but his beloved nation, as well.
Merry Christmas, Obama: you live to celebrate another year.