“Hello out there, friends. Your old pal President Evil here, having a nice glass of egg nog next to a roaring fire, soon to settle down for a long winter’s nap. And let’s be honest, I know what you’re all thinking out there: ‘Gee Mister Prez, this seems out of character for an irredeemable monster.’ to which I say this is absolute piffle! Look, I know my reputation, and I realize that as the cervical collar may indicate, the Administration has had a run of bad luck lately, but It’s Christmas! The best, holly-est, jolliest time of the year! It’s a celebration of family and togetherness, as well as the birth of our lord and savior, Christ Jesus, through which all or redeemed. You know, all of that bullshit. But most of all, it’s time to celebrate the spirit of giving! And that’s why I’ve put together a selection of the finest gifts for my pals at STRUGGLE and beyond!”
“So without further ado, let’s dig into my big, bulging sack and see what we’ve got here! And first off, let’s go ahead and get the big one out of the way. You know him, you love him for some reason, my longtime rival and thankfully ex-mentor, Big Bird Machine. Bird, I figured that sometimes, the best gift to give someone is something that they really need, but may not even realize that they need it. And that’s why I’ve managed to secure for you one actual human spine!
“Just, uhhh, you know. Don’t ask where it came from. Moving on, to yet another one of those dipshits that you people seem to like, the Human Bench Press Machine and favorite tackling dummy of up-jumped Russian mob kids, Skip Legday! Boy that’s some physique you got there, Skipperoo, and I’m sure the ladies love it, too, at least until they start to look south of the border, and I don’t mean the legs. And that’s why I’ve gotten you one fine pair of 100% cotton socks, all wadded up and ready for you to fool some poor woman into thinking it’s not a chemically-induced nightmare down there! Good luck, pal, because you’re gonna need it!
And speaking of the ladies and… relations, to a wrestler who’s almost as popular as I am, Patience Halliburton-Vanzetti, here’s one big ol’ jug of penicillin. Should be self explanatory.
“And to that wildman we all know and love, Manchoma the Randy Savage, here’s another big ol’ jug of penicillin, also self-explanatory!
And hey, so he doesn’t feel left out, to that most highly-performing of high-performance athletes, Crash Ferrari, here’s yet another big ol’ jug of penicillin! Once again, self-explanatory.
And hey, just so he doesn’t feel left out, to Patience’s old man, Garfield Vanzetti – Remember him? She probably doesn’t. But anyway, I can’t actually show you people what I got for him, due to content restrictions, but you can all rest assured that it is the absolute finest pocket pussy that fourteen American dollars can buy! Maybe even realistic enough for you to remember what the real thing was like! Okay, probably not, but I wasn’t going to waste that much money on a cruel joke, or scum up my search history too much. Either way, it’s better than nothing, right?
And speaking of losers who can’t get any, let’s hear it for my old partner, Ace La Grange! He still hasn’t relapsed, and he still hasn’t died! A shame, really. But I know you’re in a similar situation as ol’ Garfield there, but in your case, you had very specific needs, so I spared no expense. I knew Agent 35‘s search history was already a toxic waste dump, so I got him to comb the depths of Craigslist and procure the perfect gift: The exact same make and model I got for Garfield, but old, used, and completely dried up! Yumiko‘s never taking you back, Ace, but Little Ace will never know the difference!
Moving on from the prurient interest, to STRUGGLE’s acting president and the source of all the good fortune we’ve had lately, Nate Ruggle. For you, I managed to score a primo copy of state-of-the-art resume-making software, for when you run this place back out of business and have to get a real job! Maybe with this in hand, your next job will be one you get without your mother handing it to you!
And speaking of running STRUGGLE out of business, for alleged star players Tyrannosaurus Plex and the Coke Brothers, I got you guys a fuckin’ search party! I just figured that we haven’t seen you fellas in a while, but certainly you’re not embarrassed by your miserable failures as a tag team, or justifiably terrified at what might happen to you for turning your back on the Administration, right? So obviously, you must have gotten lost! So just hang tight in whatever crevice or cave you’re obviously trapped in, and we’ll have you back home in no time! Losers.
And finally, let’s leave the Tri-State Area for a minute and head out west, to that lovable little scamp, my boy, my dear sweet baby child, the one and only Doc Wyatt. To you, I got you one of these:
…Because this ain’t fuckin’ over, Doc. Not by a long shot.
Merry fucking Christmas.”