Well fuck that then

[Rudolph]

So no thank yous for kissing santa's ass, and you all got your presents right?

We were also able to keep that creepy and fucked up troll set of Mammy and Timmy under hoof and shut up this year, we ought to be thanked for that at least.

Soon as you get the big pop, the reindeer are forgotten.

Fuck that see you next year, and remember don't fuck up your puds with those dry scaley hands.

[Blitzen]

The one and only thing the reindeer as a group did well was to hoof-stomp Mammy and Timmy into a tar-tinted dirt nap.

Rudy, as for you and that neon-red nose, just remember to take care of "business" before the flight. One more sky-growler and you get "helped over the fence" repeatedly by Santa.

Comet, good times, good tunes. Don't let 'em give you shit about that fluffy-collared coat, even if it is sort of, fey.

Cupid, you are still soooo fired. Next year we're lining up with Slasher in your spot. He'll keep Rudolph in check.

Finally, St. Nick, Santa, Kringle, Father Christmas or whatever the hell you're calling yourself these days, you're still a fat fucking, thyroid-challenged elf, with bad breath, stink finger from "petting" Rudolph and a mangy, tattered suit you haven't fucking washed in two decades! Let's not even get started on the hooch.

Screw this noise, it's off to the Bali and then Curacao for some r' and r'.


That's what I'm talkin' about!