Henry, In a Bit of a Pickle
I am frozen solid, upside down, the monster’s fist wrapped around my legs. In his other hand is my new ally, Mr Enthusiasm. Mr E seems less that enthusiastic at the moment, almost as though he is about to die or something. Perhaps I should say something inspirational - you know, to boost morale. “Oh, crap,” I remark, helpfully.
“Ugh,” grunts Mr Enthusiasm, like a blubbering semi-superhero who is not nearly as brave as I, as the hideous snowman creature bears us helpless into the night. I am disoriented for some reason. Lost. Perhaps it is the cold, or the being carried, swinging, upside down, like a rag doll, or an umbrella. But no - these things are not sufficient to mess with my unerring powers of knowing where I am. Clearly the devious creature employs some form of alien mind-scrambling device to screw up my otherwise unscrewable powers.