Danta Clause – Cover your chimneys fellas! Danta’s on his way. Sure, he’s got a big sack, but will he keep anything for himself this year? The dolly is for Suzie, but where does the golden hammer go? Will he selfishly claim it for a nefarious bedroom role-play with some new Miss Clause or will he selflessly give it away to the Scot expatriate who asks for it year after year? It all comes down to one night of magic and wonder. So what do you say, phat man? Sleigh or slay?
The Little Hammer Boy – His film finished, it is now time to complete the movie of his own life. The chief plot point in the narrative involves his struggle to keep the golden hammer in his possession. The par-slumpa-pum-pum has been reduced to meaningless echoes across the plain and his new beat is playing out like it did at the first of the year. If the phat guy in the red suit doesn’t watch out, this stick spinner might just paradiddle all over his ass. Come they told me!
Jacob Mar-lee – Certainly now among the ghosts of Christmas past, but Mr. Mar-Lee has made more than a few salient points this year for the Ebeneezers to ponder. He may now be a mere spectre, but when among the living, he was a stout presence. If you begin to hear the chains rattling through the streets of Oak Grove, you’ll know who it is. If only his spirit could be made flesh once again.
Prancer – After all the talk, postures, and predictions, it turns out that this reindeer can’t really fly. Sure, they hook his scrappy carcass to the sled, but he really just serves as ballast. They keep his dead weight on year after year solely because the song mentions his name. Sure, he made a few giant leaps and snatched some silver this year, but when the big night came, he buried his head in the oats under a night sky filled with the stars he couldn’t reach. All that is left for him now is to get properly blitzened.
We Three Kongs of Orient Are – Contrary to popular belief there was only one wise man. It turns out he wasn’t the wisest and was afflicted with multiple personality disorder. He’d get all Shadrach on your ass one night, make a Meshach of it the next, and then get loaded and collapse in Abed with a Nego lady he barely knew. Just as with all drunk myths, the sober truth is distinctly different matter. Still, this three-headed wise guy’s ball of confusion had people guessing late in the year. It may be hard to follow his yonder star, but when it shines, it is quite blinding.
The First Nowen – While certain poor shepherds were getting laid in their own fields, this star drew nigh to the northwest and drifted out of sight for a while. He says he has been charged with hovering over the place where some new Jesus is bound to lay, but that seems to be a load of myrrh. He may have his reasons, but it still doesn’t make any frankin cense to me.
The Angel That We Heard Was High – Sweetly singing o’er the groins, you’ll find the high angel. He still has a few echoes of the doctor’s joyous strains, but the days when he felt like he had given birth to a savior have long since passed. He may not show you much at the table, but you had best stay tight with this angel. He’s got the holy trinity in the bag.
Hark! The Gerard Angels Sing! – Let the angelic hosts proclaim that Lester has arrived. His mercy may be less than mild, his triumphs only of the skies, but the everlasting Lord do reigneth. By highest heaven adored, Lester is, was, and always will be more.
Tiny Tim – God bless us everyone. Especially you, you fine young thing. How about me and you play like the ghosts of Christmas now, baby. They don’t call me Ebeneezer Splooge for nothing.