Tiny Vox
Upon hearing the song “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch,” the Grinch’s face fell into his hand, one eye looking up to the giant Christmas tree standing stoutly in the square. Here was his verse by verse reaction:
[Looks through his wide window and sits down for breakfast]
“You’re a mean one, Mr. Grinch.
You really are a heel.
You’re cuddly as a cactus,
You’re as charming as an eel,
Mr. Grinch.
You’re a bad banana with a greasy black peel.”
[puts down this spoon, the milk splashing onto his hand]
This was years ago! C’mon guys, stop with all that clanging and stifling tones, I’m a decent fellow now. I’ve got my view of the tree. It’s a good morning for me today! I’ll make it a good day.
“You’re a monster, Mr. Grinch.
You heart’s an empty hole.
Your brain is full of spiders.
You’ve got garlic in your soul, Mr. Grinch.
I wouldn’t touch you with a
Thirty-nine and a half foot pole.”
Can someone please stop playing this song? You’re very wrong, very wrong. My brain is very active.
What are we doing today, Mr. Grinch? Oh, yes, running down the lane… moving through the snow…
[Takes another swig of his bowl, this time with a heavy scowl on his lips. A tiny milk drop smears his troubled lip.]
“Your soul is an appalling dump heap
Overflowing with the most disgraceful
Assortment of deplorable rubbish imaginable,
Mangled up in tangled up knots.”
No, no, no. You are a very mean and hurtful man, that’s what you are! Oh the language! It jumps quickly to aggressive and judgmental words against little old green me.
[Shakes his head some more. Takes a look outside the window, but quickly ducks out.]
Disgraceful to who? To the whoville people? You have me in your lowest regards, sir, but I’m not the one throwing a degrading song at some hapless, reformed chap during the very time when the holiday spirit is supposed to sway us!
Some people could be so cruel.
Little Brown Birds 