Kids, gather round
Now, I'm aware that it's Christmas time here at your house
But while your Mom and Dad are at their office Christmas party
Uncle Justin is in charge
And that doesn't just mean in charge of you as a supervisor
But as a teacher, a mentor, a cultural guide
And kids, I am here to tell you
That Christmas...is scary
I know your parents make it all fun and crazy
With presents and stocking stuffers
And giant talking snowmen who chase little children around town
Hmm...maybe that part isn't so fun after all, is it?
And what else isn't fun?
Men coming down the chimney in the middle of the night?
Christmas lights tangled up posing the risk of an electrical fire?
Being forced to kiss some random woman named Jan at a Christmas party just because you're under the mistletoe?
All scary, right?
Well, your parents don't think so
They still want you to celebrate Christmas
So fine, fine, FINE
But kids, I want you to remember
That you can make a choice
To break away from repression
You can choose to let December 25th be just another day
Will you still get presents?
Well, of course not, but--
WAIT! WAIT! Come back!
Fine, you don't think Christmas is scary enough to give up
Let's see how you feel after a little...Visit from St. Nicholas...
'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse;
You know where else it's that quiet, kids?
In Hell
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there
That's right, kids
The parents put up the stockings
They act like they don't know what's coming
But they do
Ohhhh they do
The children were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads
See how the children are just minding their own business?
Letting the sugar plums lull them into feeling safe?
That's their first mistake, kids
And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap
You know who wears kerchiefs?
Gang members
Mamma is in a gang, kids
Bet you didn't see that coming
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter
But by the time you 'spring from your bed'
It's already too late, kids
Away to the window I flew like a flash
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash
Oohhh Dad sounds violent, doesn't he kids?
Now we know why gangsta mamma loves him so much
The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
Gave the lustre of mid-day to objects below
I'm not going to tell you what all that means, kids
Because it's disgusting
The lustre of mid-day is something you'll discover
When you get a little older
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear
But a miniature sleigh, and eight tiny reindeer
He shows up like the Apocalypse riding with the Four Horsemen
Want to know why Rudolph isn't in this poem?
It's because he couldn't live with himself anymore
Breaking and entering, scaring poor children
Rudolph begged to get out
And Santa let him out, kids
The kind of out where you don't get back in
With a little old driver, so lively and quick
I knew in a moment it must be St. Nick
St. Nick is what Santa calls himself
When he does all his illegal stuff
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name
'Coursers' means 'pack of thugs'
Just so you know
"Now, Dasher! now, Dancer! now, Prancer and Vixen!
Vixen? Appropriate? I don't think so
On, Comet! on Cupid! on, Donder and Blitzen!
Oh, he's blitzed all right, kid
That's why they have him in back
So Santa can keep an eye on him
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!
Quick! Before the cops come!
As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky
Hurricanes, obstacles, mounting
Still sound fun, kids?
So up to the house-top the coursers they flew
With the sleigh full of toys, and St. Nicholas too
They can carry a heavy load
And how?
Some say steroids
I'll let you kids be the judge
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of each little hoof
And that was a new roof Daddy and Mamma just put on the house
One they saved up for all year
Ruined, kids, ruined
As I drew in my head, and was turning around
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound
Daddy should kept that shotgun in the house
But the tree-hugging Christmas-loving liberals
Made him give it up
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot
And his clothes were all tarnished with ashes and soot
Hmm, what does St. Nick sound like...
A pimp perhaps?
A bundle of toys he had flung on his back
And he looked like a peddler just opening his pack
A peddler of mid-day lustre
Opening his pack of menthols, I'd say
How else would he get all that ash on his feet?
His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry
Probably all that whiskey he's knocking back between households
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow
So basically he's a hobo
Come to bring Christmas cheer
How lovely
The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath
Smoking in the house
What a role model
He had a broad face and a little round belly
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly
And we wonder why we have a childhood obesity epidemic
In this country
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf
And I laughed when I saw him, in spite of myself
People often laugh when they're terrified
I'm surprised he didn't pee in spite of himself
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head
Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread
Daddy's been brainwashed, kids
It's all over now
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk
Hear that? St. Nick is a jerk
The poem said it, I didn't
And laying his finger aside of his nose
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose
Yes, we can get high when we tap the side of our nose, can't we?
No wonder his beard was so white
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
Gotta head out before the FBI shows up
Because at this point, St. Nick is wanted in a lot of countries
Especially Belize, where there aren't any chimneys
So he has to get into their houses
By crawling through the window in their taco room
But I heard him exclaim, ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good-night."
Can't you hear it, kids?
Can't you hear him laughing that maniacal laugh
As the house explodes behind him
All that TNT stuffed in the stockings?
Don't you see that Christmas is a horror show?
What?
Your parents got me something?
Really?
Well, what is it?
You don't know?
Oh, well I suppose I can just open it on...
You know, this story is totally open to interpretation
That's what I wanted you to learn from this, children
That's the meaning of Christmas
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