Jolly

Asparagam stood, staring off into space, a tear running down his chlorophyll-stained face.
It had been a hellish season. So many of his family cut off in the prime of their lives. Flayed. Stuffed into the brightly colored body bags, then trundled off into cryogenic storage.
But he could not mourn for them. That was…forbidden.
It was in the contract. The hellish clothing, perversely constructed of stinging nettles. The omnipresent shit-eating grin. It was all there in green and white. He was sworn to obey.
Just the same, he thought, can’t the Jolly Green Giant weep for his lost children?