On Dasher, on Dancer, on Prancer and
Vixen...
Gone Comet, gone Cupid, gone Donner and
Blitzen!
Gone? What do you mean gone? Okay, what
needs fixing?
Climate change? Wasn't that handled
under Nixon?
Are we sure that it's real? I mean for
a fact?
Look at the presents. You know who pays
for all that?
You know they pay for the workshop and
keep us stacked.
You know why I carry coal. It's in my
contract.
Bye Comet, bye Cupid, bye Donner and
Blitzen.
Damn, how could they die... I can't keep up this fiction.
Bury my reindeer. Send this year's coal back.
I'll bring them all fear. Send elves to attack.
This year. This year. This- All will know despair.
Comments
Post a Comment