Reader's Digest version of stories that will never be written

A ton of tiny twinkle lights lay tangled on the tile floor alongside a bevy of broken and busted, battered and beat up balls that had been bounced across the blanketed floor and there in the middle of the chaos, lay Clarence the cat, who had inflicted copious amount of damage on the Christmas tree that had crashed to the ground at the crack of dawn that cold Christmas morn.