It was almost December, and while LA might not normally see much snow, a freak snowstorm had recently passed through. The streets were covered with a mixture of ice and the fresh snow that blanketed every surface. Christmas decorations were starting to cover every building, and the holiday cheer in the air was palpable. 

Holiday cheer was frankly bad for business. Everyone seemed a bit too nice for Toph's tastes. With a stroke of luck, at least the weather benefitted her. The day prior as she was wandering the streets looking for an easy mark, Toph followed fresh tire tracks to an overturned truck. It looked suspicious as hell, unmarked and missing a license plate, so she figured it was worth checking out. Peering into the driver's window, she saw a man slumped over, blood streaming down his face. Yuck. He was definitely dead. 

Toph didn't bother with burying the guy or anything, but she did liberate quite a few bags out of the passenger seat. She was delighted when she found loads of drugs - the guy was obviously a mule. Slinging the bags over her shoulder, she made her way back to the HQ and dumped them at TruceFather's feet. "A gift for you," she grinned before turning away to wash off the remnants of ick she felt after pilfering the corpse. 

Today didn't seem to be any more normal. When she returned home after making a couple drug runs she was baffled at the giant snowman built in the front yard of their headquarters. What kids had the fucking balls to build a snowman here? It was actually quite well built, resembling someone in the mafia with its corncob pipe and mean looking scowl. She shrugged and took off the scarf and sunglasses she recently "acquired" from the godfather, wrapping it around the snowman's neck and placing the shades on. As a final touch, she emptied her tommy gun of ammo and balanced it in the snowman's stick hands before making her way inside. It had already been a long morning, and quite frankly she needed a nap. 

She awoke a few hours later to shouting in the HQ. Rubbing her eyes as she made her way into the common area, she took in the scene. TruceFather seemed to be on one today. Everyone was scurrying about looking frantic, an air of confusion amidst the panic. Toph wasn't scared, she walked right up to him and squinted as she took in his scowling face. Trucefather was normally super chill, (or lazy, whatever you want to call it) so something clearly happened while she was asleep. 

Ahhh. That would be it. TruceFather's pupils were blown to absolute hell. He had clearly helped himself to the bags full of drugs- likely mushrooms, which were one of his many drugs of choice. 

"The Godfather is outside and he is demanding tribute! Bring me three snow shovels, a gallon of antifreeze, and a live choir of children singing off-key carols," he barked at the crew.

H-E-R-O, the left hand, looked at Toph with concern before trying to calm the boss down. "Dean-Winchester is on vacation, boss.. he's not around," he stammered, wincing as their leader glared daggers at him. 

"I said BRING THEM!" he shouted, causing anyone in the area to duck as if they were expecting a rain of bullets at any moment.

Toph shrugged. "Bad trip... veryyyy bad trip," she said, stifling a giggle.

Everyone was clearly determined to play along, terrified of upsetting their boss further. Snow shovels landed at his feet as REVANEVANS lugged in the antifreeze. Lucky2 was busy making calls, trying to figure out where the hell one acquires a choir of children. 

Toph rubbed her hand over her face, grumbling about the amount of effort the crew was putting into this. She walked over to Lucky2 and took the phone out of his hand, hanging up mid conversation and turning towards him. "He's tripping balls right now...we don't need actual children. Get the shortest members of the crew out there and make them sing. He won't even notice. And don't you dare look at me," she glared, challenging him to mention that she was probably the shortest member of the crew. He was smart enough to not as he gathered a few people and went outside. 

Satisfied with their efforts, TruceFather storms outside, demanding the remaining crew lug the items outside for their esteemed Godfather. As soon as he stepped on to the porch, he hit his knees in dramatic devastation. The snowman was looking... a bit worse for wear. Toph had clearly left her space heater running while she napped and the warm air was blowing out the window directly on to the melting snowman. The decorations left on the ground in a puddle of melted snow, the face half melted off. 

"BETRAYAL! ASSASSINATION!" he wailed into his hands as he covered his face. Man, those were some good drugs. Toph might have to try some herself later. The crew, sensing an opportunity to end the ordeal, immediately began shouting about rival gangs wacking the Godfather. Brilliant.

Overwhelmed with grief, TruceFather declared a week of mourning. Toph rolled her eyes and helped her boss up, ushering him inside to warm up and putting him to bed to sleep off his drug-induced hallucinations. Before leaving his room, she grabbed the rest of the mushrooms from the piles and tucked them into her pockets. Closing the door behind her she muttered to herself, "If anyone asks, Frosty died a hero."