Frankly, we felt the original was slow, boring, and had almost no plot development. So what we give you is a Christmas story for the modern era:
"A Drunken Visit From Creepy Ol' St. Nick"
Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house
Every creature was fucked up, even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney in brown
Which was pretty fucking stupid cuz that shit just burnt down.
The writers were nestled all snug in their beds
While visions of Santa danced in their heads.
When in the front yard there came a great ruckus,
They went to the window, those tired muh-fuckas.
And there, by surprise, but whom should they see,
Jolly and fat; could it be, could it be?
He crept to the house, with stealth of a cat,
Staying unseen… ‘til he kicked the door flat.
With a great, mighty belch, he wandered inside,
Cursing quite loudly, while cheering Yule tide.
His bundle, a trash bag, tossed to the floor,
His suit was unclean, like a two dollar hoor.
He raided the cupboards, drank all the beer,
The writers were shocked, and cowered in fear.
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And “filled” all the stockings with a big nasty jerk.
The writers got angry, and chased him with brooms
And Santa ran pants-less out of their rooms.
The house was destroyed by that creepy old drunk,
What wasn't thrown up in was covered in spunk.
So now ol' St. Nick's serving 20-to-Life
And serving as Big Bubba’s prison cell wife
So now you may wonder why this story stunk,
And why Santa broke into 10 houses while drunk.
It's because Santa isn't real, you ignorant dope.
It was just a cracked up homeless guy looking for coke.
And that's the story of why we're never allowed to recite Christmas poems at the local elementary school again.
Merry Christmas, muh-fuckas!
Cheers and stay classy, friends,
Bryan and Brandon
Music: The Subways
Beer: Asahi Dry