Santa creeps towards your house, softly, softly thru the wintry gloom.
He whispers:
“Holidays are coming.”
He nimbly climbs the ivy leading up to your window.
“Holidays are coming.” He chuckles.
Standing over you with a sizzling branding iron emblazoned with the “Coke” logo, he sniggers.
“Holidays are coming!”
You are awake, confused and writhing in agony as he lays it against your tender flesh.
“Holidays are coming!” He screams into your face. “HOLIDAYS ARE COMING!”