Worse yet, consider the last sno-cone you ate. It was probably sirloin of snow critter. And not free-range snow critter either. Factory-raised, veal-equivalent snow critter.
Maybe the snowman is throwing his own feces, snow-feces. Hey, monkeys do it, what’s to say that snowman don’t? Maybe all snow is snowman poop. When you are making snowmen, think about that, you dirty corpofeliac!
It’s one thing to tear somebody’s arm off and beat him to death with it, but to use your own? That’s some serious anger management issues Frosty’s got, there. He should really cut back on the booze.
Well, maybe the snowball—being a kind of snow “life,” yet vastly beneath the level of a snow man—is more analogous to a handful of single-celled organisms.
So, the snowmen are throwing snow-amoebas at each other?
Ranchoth
(Snow-Amoebas…a favorite wintertime artform of uncoordinated and shiftless children everywhere.)
I’m sure this was covered in a Calvin and Hobbes strip at one time. Calvin’s snowmen were the greatest!
Maybe it’s some kind of spiritual metaphor, sharing his essence/inner self with someone not within reach the fastest way possible. It doesn’t have to be gory. But it probably is.
I loved Calvin’s snowmen. I think the one we’re recalling had
Frame 1: Happy snowman enjoying a snowcone.
Frame 2: Calvin in metaphysical monologue.
Frame 3: Another snowman face-down in the snow with an ice cream scoop stuck in his back with three holes visible.
It’s more funny when I’m not paraphrasing the strip on a message board.