On a cold winter’s night in a town called Reindeer, the streets lay bare, nothing but snow visible upon the cold pavement. Where there was no snow, there was ice, and when not ice, blood. For this town held many tragedies, and it seemed as if happiness was out of season, that it simply couldn’t exist in such bitter cold.

	On such a night, it was thought that if you were to venture outside, you were either suicidal or nearly dead. For within this town, a deadly plague had struck, leaving few untainted by fear or sorrow. Those few untouched people soon, in turn, grew sick or fearful, until not a soul felt anything but sorrow, fear, or pain.

	The plague had one cure, but only one; Mouthwash. Such an item was a mere legend to most people, but to the privileged few who knew of it, it was worth many times its weight in gold. As some of them said, your own life is worth ten deaths. That phrase a guiding light, the possession of Mouthwash was more dangerous than the plague itself. You were said not to last a day if you owned any.

	It is within this town that a small boy lived, by the name of Thomas. He ventured forth, each day, outside, in search of this legendary substance. He knew nothing of its nature, nothing but the fact that it could save his mother’s life. Each day he dug through the snow, day in and day out, in the hope that somehow, one day he would find some, and his life would be happy again.

	On one such day, he brushed against something hard, tunneling through the snow. He tapped against it, and chewed on it, but found that he had no idea what it was. As he poked it once more, he jumped back a it moved forward, striking him in the stomach. With a yelp, he jumped up, to find the face of another boy, scarcely older than himself.

	“Hey, were you the just thumping my shoe? What’s the big idea, bugging me like that?”

	“S-sorry, mister. D-d-do you know w-where some m-m-mouthwash might be?” Unable to contain it, Thomas let out a sneeze, straight toward the boy’s face. “S-s-s-s-sorry, sir, I really didn’t mean to! Please, do you know?”

	“Ugh, little idiot,” the boy muttered to himself. The boy next to him jabbed his side, shouting, “Ninten!” He groaned, and replied, “I heard some old guy up the hill had some, if you really care. Now buzz off, I’ve gotta get to Snowman, and now I’ve got a cold.”

	“T-t-thanks,” Thomas replied, although the boys were already too far to hear him. Bearing this happy news, Thomas ran home to tell his mother. Arriving at the only cleared doorstep on the block, he rushed inside, and ran toward the bed his mother practically lived on. “M-mom, mom, I found out where I can get some Mouthwash! I’m gonna go get some from the man on the hill, and then you’ll get better again!”

	His mother sighed, and closed her eyes. Thomas, downcast by this rejection, ran outside, and began his long trek toward the hill. Several feet of snow covered the streets and fields, even more covering the hill. Knowing this, Thomas bundled up warmer than usual, putting on his mother’s coat over his own, and her hat over his. He put his shoes in her boots, as he always did, and flung the door open, ready to meet this wealthy old man.

	His eyes barely above the snow, the journey was a long, slow one. Inch by inch, though, he made his way through the snow-covered sidewalks of Reindeer, finally arriving at the foot of the hill by dusk. Seeing the snow, which was at least a foot taller than that in the streets, he took from the back of his coat another item he was sure would aid him.

	Glancing at the old tennis racket, he remembered what he had heard about snowshoes, and thought, If I can get on top of the snow, this should be easy! He placed the racket atop the large mound of snow, and pushed down on it, hoisting himself to its level. Once there, he placed one foot on the tennis racket, and, after tying it to his boot’s laces, he began to hop across the snowy hilltop.

	After much of this, he came across what seemed to be a fork. The snow was nearly high enough to reach the hilltop, which had much lower snow than the rest of the hill, but was still much too high for him to climb. He decided to take the path to his left. He hopped forward a bit, and reached what seemed to be a dead end. Annoyed, he attempted to turn around. While he did this, his foot slipped into the air, and he tumbled down the large mass of snow, reaching at the bottom what seemed to be a sign.

	He rubbed his bottom, noticing a pair of dentures near it. He picked them up, and shoved them in his pocket, not knowing what else to do with them. He glanced at the sign, and began to hoist himself back up to the snow. As he saw light again, he winced, shocked by the massive brightness.

	Hopping forward again, he decided he couldn’t risk another fall, and tried to jump for the top of the hill. He leapt several feet into the air, and managed to grab what, through the snow, seemed to be a ledge. Pulling himself up, he made use of his usual tunneling for several feet, and then stood up, the snow no more than a foot there. Banging on the door, he barged into the house.

	“H-h-h-hello?” he asked, expecting no reply. Instead, he heard an unintelligible “Yap?” from down the hall. He ran down, and found an old man, sitting miserably in the corner. “Wh-wh-who are you?”

	“I’m bappum ba mab,” the man said, “Hab bu bep buh beph?” Thomas, bewildered, stepped backward. Then, looking at the man’s mouth, he realized; the man was missing his dentures!

	“Are you missing your dentures?” Thomas asked, trying his hardest not to stutter. He drew the dentures from his pocket, and handed them to the man. The man, stunned by this sudden offer, snatched them from Thomas, and quickly put them in his mouth.

	“That’s what I just told you, you moron!” the man said, “But thank you most dearly. I am Bawpum, CEO of Bawpum Mouthwash. I assume you’ve heard of me?”

	“Mouthwash? D-do you have any? C-c-c-c-c-can I have some?” Thomas asked, with growing excitement.

	“Why of course, good sir, of course. You can have as much as you can carry.” Thomas, overjoyed, fell to the ground, asleep. The day had been long, and cold. Bawpum, confused, pulled him down the hallway, and set him in a bed. From one gift, came another, which would soon shatter the cycle of chaos.
Mouthwash