The Terrifying Christmas Ham

Attention! There are several things you need to know!
 * 1) This pasta/legend is fictional
 * 2) The following should only be interpreted as entertainment
 * 3) This pasta is an entry for the Christmas Pasta Tournament Semi-Finals
 * 4) Merry Christmas!

Chapter 1: A Miraculous Picturing
I mean no joke when I say I love Christmas ham. It's my biggest thought aside from the stacked up presents under a glimmering and colorful tree. This year, I was excited to bite into a forkful of the juicy, mouth watering ham. Instead, something horrid had happened. From what seemed to be a simple Christmas ham to a literal nightmare. The story starts on Christmas eve, the day that would make any kid more hasty than consuming sugar itself. While a silly thought to think of, I was only thinking of the ham that day. All good thoughts about the presents were sided away in my head just to remind me of the delicious meal I was going to have that night, and boy was I excited.

Why am I so excited- or possibly overexcited about something simple as a ham, and not think about all of the wonderful presents I could get? There is no real reason for it, but I don't forget about the presents. If I were to say that ham is tradition, then I'd be dumb enough to forget that Christmas presents are too. Let's continue, shall we? So, the day started like any other Christmas eve there was. The house was in excitement, due to the thought of Santa and presents of being right there on your fingertips; just ready to fish out of the water and have in your own palms. Of course, I've already bit the cap off the pen and began writing my wish list to Santa Claus.

The list was rather simple and complex at the same time. Starting from Minecraft merchandise, descending into giftcards, continuing down the road with a new baseball bat for next year's game, and ending with even more Minecraft toys/merchandise + more. It seems weird to bring in a video game just like that, but Minecraft plays an important role in this story. I couldn't stop playing that darn game since I first got it. Everything that wasn't Christmas that called me was Minecraft, Minecraft, Minecraft.

The story truly begins that Christmas eve night, as nothing important happened for a while. It was Christmas eve night, everyone was called to the table as we all were sat down in a seat. My father pulled the ham out of the oven and put it down in the center of the table. My mouth began to water, looking at the massive thing. Eventually, I got my plate full and stuffed my mouth with the forkful and- wait a second. This tastes disgusting, what the heck? It can't be a different kind of meat, because my dad confirmed it's ham. I spat the ham right back into my plate, soon realizing the ham was under-cooked, and slightly moldy. Everyone eyes out the spit out piece, and began to spat the ham out on their plates too.

My father was at a loss for words, as the man confirmed he'd everything correctly. Everyone trusted him, but were still shocked for what happened. With a moment of silence, the ham began to vibrate hard on the plate, making little movement at first, then convulsing and thrashing all around the plate. When we finally noticed the ham was moving, the thing was throwing itself around the plate. My dad tried to grab a hold of it, failing the first couple times, then able to grab it.

WIP