The small, quiet town of Head-Crunch Hollow lay under a blanket of snow. Rows of charming New England homes lined the streets, the colonial architecture enhanced by the wintry wonderland. For most people, it was a dream, but for Robot, it was an utter bore.

The short robot stood at the entrance of the local strip mall parking lot, arms crossed, his black death metal T-shirt flapping lazily in the icy breeze. "This place," Robot grumbled, "is the lamest place on Earth. And that's why I, the mastermind, am gonna shake things up around here."

Next to him, Zombie slowly turned his head, his half-decayed face blank except for a low, hungry moan. He shuffled forward, attempting for the fifth time that day to bite down on Robot's head.

"Whoa! Watch it, Z!" Robot yanked his head back, swatting at Zombie's bony hand. "You've got, like, one move, and it’s getting old."

Zombie let out a soft grunt, shuffling backward as a group of teenagers walked by, each bundled in layers of fleece, scarves, and J.Crew sweaters. Cathy, Vanessa, and Cindy were among them, three local girls who had taken an odd interest in Zombie.

"Hey, loser!" Cathy called to Robot as she passed. "You gonna start a mosh pit in the snow or something?"

Robot sneered, kicking some slush at her feet. "I could, but you’re not even ready for the kind of hardcore revolution I’m gonna bring, Cathy."

Cathy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure. Whatever makes you feel important, you maniac."

Vanessa winked at Zombie. "Hey Z, looking good today. How's the brain-hunting going?"

"Braaaains," Zombie mumbled, but his glazed-over eyes focused on Vanessa's neck as if calculating how many bites it would take to snap it.

Cindy, ever disgusted by Robot's mere presence, snorted. "Ugh, why are you even here? This town is too perfect for your nasty, metalhead crap."

Robot shrugged dramatically, a grin spreading across his metal face. "Because no one else can handle perfection like I do, babe."

"Don't call me babe," Cindy snapped, flipping her hair and hurrying away.

As the girls disappeared down the street, Robot’s cocky smile dropped into a scowl. "See, Z? That’s what I’m talking about. These people don’t respect the artistry of pure chaos. But I’ll show them. I’ll show them all!"

Zombie stared blankly, then reached out again, trying to bite Robot’s shoulder.

Robot sidestepped him, suddenly noticing Todd Burkin, aka Burkin, a rich and slow-witted teen, coming out of the coffee shop, sipping a hot chocolate. Todd's family was loaded, and Robot’s greedy gears immediately began turning.

"Yo, Burkin!" Robot called, marching up to him with a swagger. "Got a little extra cash on you, huh? Maybe you want to invest in the next big thing? It’s a money-making blizzard bonanza!"

Burkin blinked slowly, confused. "What are you talking about, Robot?"

Robot gestured widely to the falling snow. "This! This winter wonderland is untapped profit, my dude. Snowman-building contests, hot cocoa stands, snowball-fight arenas—I'm talking goldmine material. But I need a small loan to get it started."

Burkin squinted at him. "Snowball... arenas? That sounds dumb."

"Nah, man, it's genius!" Robot insisted, though even he was losing confidence in his scheme. "People are desperate for entertainment in this snoozefest of a town. I just need, like, 20 bucks for supplies. You'll get triple back once I turn this place into Snowmania 2000."

Before Burkin could respond, a snowball slammed into Robot's back with a resounding thud. He spun around, enraged. "Who threw that?!"

Behind him, Ben Corbin, the obnoxious preppy kid, stood laughing, already packing another snowball. "What’s the matter, Robot? Can't handle a little snow?"

Robot's face twisted into an angry snarl. "Oh, you think you’re clever, huh, Corbin? You’re about to get wrecked!"

With no real plan but pure ego-driven fury, Robot charged at Ben, flailing his arms like a wind-up toy gone berserk. Ben dodged easily, chucking another snowball that smacked Robot right in the side of his head, sending him spinning into a nearby snowbank.

Zombie, watching with mild disinterest, made his way over to the scene, now drawn to the falling snowflakes and not-so-fresh brains that surrounded him.

As Robot popped his head out of the snow, sputtering and cursing, the town’s peaceful atmosphere began to unravel. The commotion drew in more teens—some ready to join the chaos, others just watching with amused detachment. The calm and serene afternoon was rapidly descending into absurdity, all thanks to Robot’s need to prove himself.

"Z, help me out here!" Robot demanded, still struggling to get to his feet. "You’re supposed to have my back!"

Zombie, however, was distracted by a nearby snowman, lumbering toward it with his jaw wide open, mistaking it for some poor frozen victim.

"No, not the snowman, you moron!" Robot groaned, pulling himself up and glaring at Ben, who stood ready with another snowball. "That’s it, no more Mr. Nice Robot. I’m going full-throttle, no-holds-barred—"

At that moment, Zombie finally tackled the snowman, knocking it over and attempting to bite its head off. The carrot nose popped loose, and Zombie sat, perplexed, as the snowman’s head crumbled in his hands.

The sight was so ridiculous that Ben couldn’t help but laugh uncontrollably, clutching his stomach.

Robot, humiliated and covered in snow, shook his fist at the sky. "You all think you can keep me down, but I’ll be back! You haven’t seen the last of Robot and Z!"

Cathy, watching from the sidelines with her friends, shook her head in disbelief. "You’re right. This town might just be too perfect for him."

The girls walked off, leaving Robot grumbling as he dusted snow off his flannel and turned to Zombie, who was still chewing on a snowman’s stick arm.

"Let’s get out of here, Z. I’ve got a new plan, and this one’s foolproof."

Zombie looked up with his signature blank stare. "Foolproof."

"Yeah, foolproof!" Robot puffed out his chest. "We’ll get rich, we’ll be legends, and these people will beg us to stay in their boring little town."

Zombie slowly stood up, letting the snowman’s remains fall from his mouth. "Beg."

"Exactly!" Robot marched off, his head held high despite the many failures of the day. As always, his self-proclaimed genius l