So it is Christmas Eve in the E____ household and here am I with thoughts racing through my head as I grip the racing pen in my hand and the waterproof flashlight in the other Aha! a light is flickered on and now the page shines holy white the lamp burns bright and drowns the waterproof flashlight in a deluge of lucis deum not of Apollo And to a neon god they prayed as he inked the blue-blooded chants of pagan worshippers blinded by the toxic sun as their self-deprecating ritual reached fever pitch Tomorrow the lie would be propagated in households all across the heathen land as they win this jihad and force an exodus upon the true believers Soon poor Terra will be enslaved by this pretender to the earthly throne and soon those pagans not of noble birth shall bow before the harbingers of doom These heroine pushers sell the sickest dope they preach that after death there s hope and so these collared addicts drunk on salvation accept their rank lives as over-fermentation Now these addicts they slave for hours each day by the will of their family who live far away Dear Uncle Sam says you re making him proud but Big Brother s watching so don t speak out loud But then there s stern Father whom they fear the most and his minions the Son and the Holy Ghost and it s to appease Him and avoid His almighty scorn that they live in a sewer to send you your presents on Christmas morn