by R. K.

(It is a misty, purple night with snow falling slowly to the ground. Little 
colored lights twinkle merrily on shrubbery and reflect of the icicles that hang 
from the rooftops. All is still. Everyone is asleep and dreaming in this dead of 
night, all except for four black-clad teenagers who sit in the cold attic of one 
Rachel Von Karajan, surrounded by candles. The four are: Rachel, with long red-
black hair that matches her velvety dress and corset; Jason, wild-haired and 
wild souled, wearing a Slipknot T-shirt, huge-ass pants and trench coat; Bliss, 
tall and boring, wearing a puffy pirate shirt with laces and tight pants; and 
Ange, wearing a fishnet shirt and a little skirt-like thing. All are wearing 
clunky boots.)

RACHEL: Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a 
creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

JASON: Except us.

BLISS: Shhh! If you listen closely, you might hear Santa's bells.

ANGE: Shut up, dufus, your epidermis smells.

RACHEL: Wait! What was that sound?

(They all fall silent. Sure enough, they hear jingle bells. They glance at one 
another then crowd round the window, where what should appear but a miniature 
sleigh and eight tiny reindeer! They squint to examine the driver as he comes 

JASON: Who the hell is he?

ANGE (sexily): He's so lively and quick.

BLISS: Yeah, but who can he be?

RACHEL: Gotta be Saint Nick.

ANGE: He's awfully young!

BLISS: And he's wearing black.

JASON: There's a ring in his tongue.

RACHEL: And a sack on his back.

BLISS: There's dog collars on his reindeer.

JASON: And one on him too.

ANGE: He looks to young to be drinking that beer.

BLISS: It's not beer, it's brew.


(They climb out onto the roof and shiver as they watch Santa's sleigh alight on 
the roof. Santa is wearing a chain mail shirt but he is not shivering.)

SANTA: My children, why aren't you asleep?

ANGE: Is this how you always look?

JASON: Then my brother's gonna weep.

BLISS: Did you bring me a new spell book?

SANTA: Well, I brought you all toys.

JASON: Did you bring me any porn?

ANGE: Did you bring me any boys?

BLISS: Did you bring me any Korn?

SANTA: I brought you all toys.

RACHEL: Okay, what did we get?

(Santa reaches into his bag and hands Rachel a hopeless-looking doll in a black 

SANTA: For Rachel I bring a lovely new doll.
	She looks quite normal, but she isn't at all.
	It matters not how you love her, or how she is dressed
	She's sad and lonely and chronically depressed.

(Now he pulls out the frame of a bicycle with no wheels and hands it to Jason.)

SANTA: Here is a bike that has no wheels.
	It mirrors the way that Jason feels.

JASON: Now I can pedal and get nowhere, just like in life!

ANGE: What do you have in that black bag for me?

(He hands her a mangled, melted Barbie doll.)

SANTA: Here is a Barbie whose hair is shorn
	Her face is melted, her hands are worn.
	She's mangled in just about every way.
	To get her like this took my elves all day.
	But now that it's done, it's not your concern
	You've got more important evil toys to burn.

ANGE: Thanks, Santa! This is a serious timesaver.

(To Bliss he hands a bright yellow Crayola box filled with thick pieces of black 

SANTA: This chalk is black, the reason is two-fold.
	First it will help you perform Rites of Old.
	Circles of chalk are trés occult.
	Plus, you can write on a blackboard with no result.

ANGE, BLISS, JASON, RACHEL: Thank you, Santa Claus!

(Not used to being thanked in person, Santa offers little more than a slight bow 
in return for their thanks, and the gang almost detects a faint blush on his 
deathly-pale complexion. Then he swings back into his sleight with the ease of a 
superhero or action star, flashes a charming yet sinister grin, and whips his 
reindeers' asses into gear. He rides off into the night.)

BLISS: Did we just learn the true meaning of Christmas?

RACHEL: I sure hope not.

ANGE: Yeah, that'd really bite.

SANTA (shouting from far away): Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

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