<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8" standalone="yes"?><rss version="2.0" xmlns:atom="http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom" xmlns:content="http://purl.org/rss/1.0/modules/content/"><channel><title>Outside on Gromet's Plaza Archive</title><link>/tags/outside/</link><description>Recent content in Outside on Gromet's Plaza Archive</description><generator>Hugo</generator><language>en-us</language><lastBuildDate>Sun, 24 Dec 2017 00:00:00 +0000</lastBuildDate><atom:link href="/tags/outside/index.xml" rel="self" type="application/rss+xml"/><item><title>The Christmas Competition</title><link>/stories/2017/12/24/the-christmas-competition/</link><pubDate>Sun, 24 Dec 2017 00:00:00 +0000</pubDate><guid>/stories/2017/12/24/the-christmas-competition/</guid><description>&lt;p&gt;Do not use without the author’s permission.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;Bob stared at the house across the street with a crazed look in his eye. The hundreds of lights and Christmas figures that covered the house and filled the lawn lit up the whole neighborhood.&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;“This time Fred isn’t going to win the holiday display competition! Not when he sees what I’ve got to offer! Isn’t that right, Jenna?”&lt;/p&gt;
&lt;p&gt;He turned to his wife, who was standing by the wall. She could only give a muffled reply because of the thick rubber horse bit in her mouth. Underneath her harness and bridle, she wore a brown fur-covered catsuit, complete with hooves for her hands and feet, and a pair of reindeer antlers on her head. Her wrists were cuffed to the waist belt of her harness, and her ankles were hobbled by a leather restraint. Her wide, frightened eyes tried to convey to her husband how insane she thought the whole idea was.&lt;/p&gt;</description></item></channel></rss>