Ahh...tis' the season! Here in the Fakiegrind underground bunker it's been hard to find a suitable stand-in for a Christmas tree. We had a nice plastic one, but Dr. Flavour sent it back in time in one of his experiments (we think it went back and not forward, but we won't be sure until 2089). We've had to make do with a petrified boa constrictor dangled from the ceiling and festooned with little ornaments we cut out of some back issues of Popular Mechanics magazine we found in an old filing cabinet.
Exacly why we have a petrified boa constrictor on hand is another story altogether, and not likely to see print until a few pending lawsuits get cleared up, but the "tree" itself has a certain tropical Christmasesque charm that makes one forget about behing holed up two miles below the Earth's surface in a makeshift bunker while the Xister and his crew pick through the wreckage of the old Fakiegrind Headquarters in search of fragments of our once mighty treasure trove of vintage toys and hair accessories.
But there's no use complaining. Captain Canuck came by yesterday with a baggie full of maple leaf-shaped cookies from Department H, which we dutifully distributed amongst the Fakiegrind staff at our annual Christmas party. To be sure, our operation has seen better years, but we're making the best of things. My Secret Santa was quite generous this year and gave me a complete set of Sponge Bob stackable drinking cups. Now I have something to use when I break open my bottle of triple X eggnog, or "chicken milk" as Nelvanna likes to call it.
Yes indeed, it's time to ease on into the holiday season. I hope things are going well for you out there in cyberland. A brand new year's a'coming! Plenty of time left for rocking it oldschool, for partying like it's 1999, and, above all else, for satying old. So clear the dancefloor with a bulldozer and let's git down to some serious rug-cuttin' bizniz. Gravity waits for no one and I feel a new move coming on...