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There is a certain kind of holiday story that only makes sense once you have lived it.
Not the glossy, department-store version, but the one where the week before Christmas is a blur of errands, travel texts, family politics, and one too many “How are you, really?” conversations that land harder than intended. The lights are pretty, the expectations are loud, and the quickest way back to yourself is a warm couch, a shared joint, and a friend who gets you without requiring the full backstory.
That is the frequency Morgan Young is tuned to, and it is exactly where their animated short Stoned for Christmas lives.
Young is the writer, director, and producer of the film, a ten-minute animated adventure that plays like a mixtape of styles and moods. It follows a weed courier hustling deliveries at Christmas time, with each drop-off unfolding as its own mini-world, rendered through a different animation technique. The result is fast, funny, and unexpectedly tender — a holiday special for people who love weed, animation, and the strange comfort of being a little stoned in December.
It is also, by design, a communal project. Young wrote the first draft over Christmas in 2021, then spent the next couple of years building an international team of artists and animators, leaning into their individual styles rather than sanding them down into uniformity.
Young describes Stoned for Christmas as “a love letter to weed” first, and “a love letter to animation” just as strongly.
The premise is intentionally simple. A weed courier has to make deliveries at Christmas, and each stop becomes its own vignette, animated in a distinct style. That structure gives the short momentum without overcomplicating things. You’re always moving forward, stepping into a new visual language with each door.
Some of the most memorable moments come from those stylistic swings: a pixelated, old-school 3D video game sequence; a stop-motion segment built from live-action actors photographed frame by frame; characters designed to match their medium, including one rendered in black-and-white with a rubber-hose, early-animation feel. Each choice nods to a different lineage without asking the viewer to decode it.
The shifts aren’t there just to show off technique. They mirror how cannabis and the holidays both bend time and texture. You move from house to house, obligation to obligation, vibe to vibe. The short leans into that rhythm instead of pretending December is one continuous Hallmark color grade.
Young grew up immersed in film and television, especially cartoons. They studied theater, then had the realization many creatives eventually face: the thing you train for is not always the thing you end up doing.
After working in live-action television, Young transitioned into children’s animated media in 2018. Today, they work in preschool TV, a space they genuinely love for its care and intention. That background directly shaped Stoned for Christmas.
Structurally, the short mirrors the animated adventures Young builds for kids: clear movement, escalating set pieces, emotional beats that land quickly and honestly. The difference is that this one “just happens to be about weed.” That isn’t a gimmick. It’s the point.
“I wanted to lean into difference,” Young told me. “In the TV that I work in, it’s all about consistency, continuity. But I really wanted to push it, see how different we could get.”
That philosophy guided the production from the start.
Young wrote the first draft over Christmas in 2021, then spent the next couple of years building an international team of artists and animators. Instead of sanding their work down into uniformity, they leaned into individual styles as the core concept. The project ultimately involved 17 artists across 11 mini sections, a mix of friends, coworkers, and commissioned collaborators.
The process took about two years, which is normal for animation but still worth noting. This isn’t a short tossed together over a weekend. It’s coordination, trust, revisions, and a lot of “Can you take one more pass at this shot?” energy. The difference is that Young treated the team’s individuality as the feature, not the problem to solve.
Young’s relationship with cannabis didn’t start early or recklessly. They didn’t smoke in high school. They didn’t even drink. College changed that, not as rebellion, but as community.
Some of Young’s fondest memories are tied to queer friend groups, getting high and talking about art, or going to see art and letting cannabis be part of the experience — not an accessory, but a shared atmosphere.
“That world that I grew up smoking in was just, and all my friends chilling on a roof talking about gay shit and getting high,” they said, laughing. “That was it.”
Stoned for Christmas carries that energy. It treats weed as social glue, a creative companion, and sometimes a pressure valve during a season that can be emotionally complicated for a lot of people. It’s playful without being shallow, affectionate without being forced.
The vignette structure could have turned the film into a disconnected parade of ideas. Young avoided that by designing the emotional arc with intention.
They wanted each segment to feel complete on its own, while still building toward something larger. Each stop escalates—bigger, stranger, more intense—before the short deliberately brings things back down.
Young wanted the ending to return to “a smaller, softer place,” something warmer and grounded in friends, family, and holiday closeness. That’s the quiet achievement of the film. Beneath the animation techniques and jokes, it understands that the real comfort of the season isn’t aesthetic. It’s who you get to be with when you finally exhale.
That is the secret ingredient. It is not just chaos and jokes. It has heart. The short understands that the real holiday comfort is not the aesthetic, it is the people you get to be around when you finally exhale.
For Young, sharing Stoned for Christmas with High Times isn’t about promotion as much as placement. When they announced the short would live here, the response came from all directions—family, friends, and people who don’t necessarily share the same relationship to weed, but recognize the name.
That wide familiarity mirrors the short itself. Because it moves through different visual styles and emotional registers, there’s something for almost everyone to latch onto. Animation fans will catch the techniques. Weed people will recognize the cultural nods. And anyone who’s leaned on cannabis to get through the emotional static of the holidays will understand it immediately.
You can watch Stoned for Christmas now on the High Times YouTube channel (and right here at the bottom of this article!), where it’s featured as an award-winning animated short.
It’s festive without being fake. Stoner without being lazy.
Everything else is window dressing.
<p>The post ICYMI: Watch the Award-Winning Animated Short Stoned for Christmas first appeared on High Times.</p>