Two years ago, he’d given her a St. Bernard with a cask of peppermint schnapps clipped to its collar.

She’d given him a white pickup the size of house. Last year, he’d bought vehicles for both of them. She grabbed the giant black truck, leaving him the little red SUV.

This Christmas, he wouldn’t be out-done or out-foxed. He sold one of his core enterprises, enduring weeks of bad press and death threats from displaced workers. He bought an estate in the Swiss Alps that included a mansion, several ski-chalets and a town.

She’d get it all. He didn’t ski.

I wrote this drabble for the Story-a-Day Challenge (storyaday.org). The prompt by Brenda R. called for creating a fan fiction of “your favorite or least favorite TV commercial.”