A couple weeks ago, he and his seven kids began packing the first giant ball. They'd planned to make Snowzilla bigger than ever, that is until the city ordered them to cease and desist.

Anchorage enforcement officials claim Snowzilla has become a noisy nuisance to Billy Ray's neighbors and poses safety hazards to admirers. They've told Billy he can't build his snowman. And if he doesn't comply, he could be arrested.

"I hope it doesn't come to that because it will make us look like the Grinch," says Rich Fern, the lead enforcement officer for city of Anchorage.

Billy Ray says the city already has shown itself to be the Grinch who stole Christmas. Who in the world doesn't like a giant snowman?

"This is the worst thing that has happened to me in a long, long time," Billy Ray says. "To tell us to stop two weeks before Christmas, the kids just don't understand why (the city) is doing this to us. This is Anchorage Alaska. You tell me, do we have a law against snowmen?"Not against snowmen, but the city has broad authority under its public-nuisance law to lean on Billy Ray if it finds Snowzilla is interfering with the peace, Fern says.

"The law covers pretty much anything that would irritate the public, anything that would create a nuisance," Fern says. "Snowzilla has generated a lot of traffic through the neighborhood in past years. The people who were coming to see it were going on other people's properties to get a look. When the bars were letting out, it was a popular attraction to go by and see Billy Ray's snowman. And these aren't the quietest people."

"The other issue," Fern says, "is that it looked like where he was going with it that (Snowzilla) was going to get real big this year. He's not an engineer. If a hunk of snow rolled off and hit a kid, that wouldn't be good for anybody."

To which Billy Ray replies, "Have you heard of any snowman falling on a child?"

The city issued a stop-work order to Billy Ray a couple weeks ago. He could appeal the order, but Billy Ray says he probably won't: "Everybody knows the city has the second-largest law firm in the state. How's a poor boy like me going to fight them? But I'll tell you, the kids are so disappointed by this. They've worked their little butts off. They just want to see the eyes and buttons and carrots to go on. It's a real shame."

Right now all that stands in front of Billy's weather-beaten ranch at 1556 Columbine St. is a big pile of snow that looks more like an igloo than the start to a snowman. There wasn't enough of the white stuff to resurrect Snowzilla last year, so Billy Ray and the kids were more excited than ever to get Snowzilla up before this Christmas.In other years, the snowman towered high over his home, attracting thousands of visitors from all over Anchorage. Snowzilla had beer bottles for eyes, a big hat made of tomato cages, and a corn-cob pipe. The snowman grabbed headlines worldwide; even a Japanese film crew flew to Alaska to shoot footage of Billy Ray's creation.

But during the last go-around, around Christmas 2006, some neighbors complained the noise and traffic were becoming unbearable. Snowzilla worshippers were trampling through their yards. Headlights and car stereos were flooding their bedrooms in the middle of the night. At times, Columbine Street looked like a street fair.

Billy Ray has had his share of clashes with the city and his neighbors over the years, and the snowman is just the tip of the iceberg. He's made the newspapers for failing to keep up his yard, which in summer resembles the set of that 1970s TV sitcom "Sanford and Son." Billy's house is surrounded by assorted junk and planters and machines and tools and unfinished projects. Sometimes you see a few old airport baggage carts or a rusty forklift or a broken-down vehicle balanced on jacks parked out front."They say there are certain people who collect stuff to the point that it could be called a disease," Fern says. "If that's true, then (Billy Ray) has it."

The city has fined him more than $100,000 over the last 15 years, Ferns says.