The Gremlin Winter Olympics Day 2: Alpine Skiing



The trouble began, as it always does with gremlins, 
with a muffled announcement and an over-abundance of confidence.

The Winter Olympics committee—already regretting an ever-growing list of life choices—stood before the devilry of Olympians, goggles, and unchecked enthusiasm to explain the next event: alpine skiing. The microphone crackled, the words a little muffled as the commentator tried to convey the message while balancing the fine line between losing the mic to the North wind or swallowing it whole. The wind howled. A gremlin sneezed directly into the loudspeaker. It immediately exploded.


What the gremlins heard was not alpine skiing. 

What they heard ... was alpine peeing.

You could see the idea bloom, glowing across their 

ugly little faces like a poorly timed sunrise.

They nodded solemnly. 

They took notes and whispered in hushed tones.

One of them raised a paw and asked whether “hydration strategy” would be judged on style or distance. The judges exchanged looks normally reserved for malfunctioning elevators before confirming that hydration is important, without entirely understanding their grave error.

Preparation began immediately. The Olympians, assuming this was a highly respected winter discipline, went all in. Crates of soda appeared. Diagrams were sketched. Gordon pointed a scaly finger at one of the diagrams and declared: "its a premium feature"

Another gremlin suggested a warm-up lap “to really get the system flowing.”

A sign went up at the top of the mountain: EVENT IN PROGRESS – CAUTION ADVISED

That sign did absolutely nothing.  Instead of skis, competitors arrived bundled in parkas with the haunted eyes of people who drank too much cocoa too early. The announcer tried—valiantly—to recover, unsure of exactly what was afoot, but knowing full well that it was at least 72 flavours of wrong.

“Remember,” she said, reading directly from the rulebook now covered in claw marks, “Both are best done downhill, but only one is graded.” The gremlins applauded. They thought it was a proverb.

The first competitor stepped forward, saluted the judges, and yelled, “FOR SCIENCE.” 

He took off down the slope at a cautious shuffle, pausing occasionally to concentrate very hard on tree choices, and ... *clears throat* ... "make his mark".


Judging categories were hastily revised:

  • Line Control

  • Commitment

  • Speed vs. Regret

  • Extent of Collateral Damage

A gremlin wiped out dramatically, slid fifty meters, popped up, and shouted, “Still counts!” Another flew across the finish line sideways and whispered, “This is why humans invented stalls.”

Halfway through the event, someone introduced après pee, a post-run celebration involving towels, hot drinks, and aggressive denial of any miscommunication on anyone's part, particularly the Olympians.

A small jazz band played. No one asked why.

One-liners in the media flew faster than competitors:

  • “Don't park on the double yellow lines.”

  • “Hydration goes in, reputation goes out.”

  • “Peak performance, valley consequences.”


The judges tried to restore order by demonstrating actual alpine skiing. They clipped into skis, carved elegant turns, and stopped cleanly at the bottom. The gremlins stared in silence.

“…Oh,” one said.
“…That makes no sense,” said another.
A third raised a paw. “When do we get medals?”

In the end, medals were awarded anyway. Categories included:

  • Best Use of Gravity

  • Outstanding Commitment to the Cause

  • Lifetime Achievement in Mishearing Instructions

The official report would later describe the event as “unorthodox,” “technically incorrect,” and “never to be spoken of again.” The gremlins declared it a success.

As they shuffled off toward the lodge—proud, exhausted, and oddly enlightened—one final banner unfurled behind them:

WINTER OLYMPICS – NUMBER ONE, DAY TWO.

For the sake of sanity, crowd harmony and the continuation of the Olympics remaining a family-friendly event, all skiing events have been henceforth suspended. 

Officials stressed this decision was unrelated to hydration levels, misplaced enthusiasm, or the phrase “alpine peeing,” despite the crowd’s very specific follow-up questions.