Disclaimer- You know it, I know it, and I’m pretty sure DiC Entertainment and Archie Comics know it...

Author’s Note- this is a parody of one of my favorite songs/music videos by Eminem, “Stan”. It contains a great deal of foul language, so read at your own risk! But... NNNNEVER FEAR! THE COSMIC FOOOOOL IS HERE!!

Location- Robotropolis

Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the smog,

Not a creature was stirring, not even a hedgehog...

Snively: Cut the “Night Before Christmas” parody; it’s really getting old.

Heh, sorry. Anyway, it was Christmastime in the city- as the song goes- and Robotnik’s runt of a lackey was in his room, busy scribbling away onto a piece of paper- which was covered with coffee stains, since he accidentally knocked his cup over in his eager attempt to grab a pencil from his pencil-holder... but he didn’t even notice, because his desk lamp was almost burnt out.

“Dear Santy Clause,” he furiously wrote, salivating at the mouth, “however have you been, old boy? You know, I wrote to you last year, but you never returned my letter! Well, I suppose you simply must be busy. Say, how’re things up at the North Pole? How is Mrs. Clause, the elves, and the reindeer? I know you must hear this all the time, but I’m your biggest fan. This year, I would like a new computer, plus a copy of the SatAM DVD. (My rotten uncle keeps stealing mine, and I grow so weary of constantly having to hide it on him.) Oh, and could you also be sure to bring a girlfriend for my Teddy-Bear, Shnookums? He’s my best friend in the whole world, and it isn’t right that he should always be so lonely; poor wittle fellow. Sniffle; snort If you can’t honor my requests, due to lack of items in your Workshop again this year, then I’ll understand; but please at least bring a companion for poor wittle Shnooky-poooooo; and I’ll be forever in your debt. I dearly worry about him.

Thine evermore,

Colin Jr. “Snively” Kintobor

Well, Christmas came and went, but Snively found nothing in his stocking, but a lump of coal.

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he found that he could not contain his great sorrow within. He began to throw a giant temper-tantrum, kicking, screaming, and carrying on like a spoiled day-care brat. He tore his Pjs, banged his head on his wall, and began to throw all his stuff around the room.

Before long, his room looked like a tornado had hit it, and his head was black and blue. He was exhausted, his eyes and throat were red from all his crying and wailing.

“Why, Santa... why?” he whimpered. Sobbing, he then grabbed Shnookums, wrapped himself up in his blankee, and began to rock back and forth on the floor like a mental patient, sucking his thumb, before curling up into a fetal position. “B-b-b-etter watch out... better not cry... better not pout... I’m t-t-telling you whyyyy... S-S-S-Santa C-C-Clause is coming... to town...” he sang in a trembling tone. Suck, suck

Next year

Snively finally crawled out from under his blanket, and decided to compose a new letter. (He stunk like shit, his nails were like claws, and he had grown a ratty, shitty old beard- and he had grown excessive hair in other places, too- because he hadn’t had showered, shaved, or clipped his nails, ever since last year.)

“Dear Jolly Old St. Dick,

I writted to you last year, but you never writted back. I’m not mad; I just think ‘tis rather fucked-up you dun-a answer fans. Now, I’m not one to bear a grudge, but I seem to recall that a couple years ago, I flew all the way up to the North Pole just to visit your fat ass. I waited four hours in the blistering cold outside your house- yet when you came out, you just shook your immense belly at me, and said, “Ho-ho-ho!” What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?! If you didn’t wish to talk to me, you didn’t have to; but you could have least signed an autograph for wittle Shnooky-wooky-poo! Remember him? He’s only six years old (in Teddy-Bear years); you’re, like, his fucking idol! He loves you more I do! That’s pretty shitty, old man! It’s bad enough he’s never even found true love in his life!

Recall when we met in the mall? You said that if I write to you, you’d write back! Shnookums is a tad jealous, ‘cause I talk about you 24/7. But he don’t know you like I do, Santa; nobody knows what it was like for people like us growing up! I really think we should be together, my friend...

Yours hatefully,

Snively K... otherwise known as SNIVELY THE GREAT, to the likes of you!

P.S. I grew a beard, just like you! SNOOOORT

It wasn’t until that letter never got answered that Snively began his phase of sleepwalking. One night, he stumbled right into Robotnik’s room while he was reading in his chair, and plopped himself down onto his uncle’s lap. “SANTY CLAUSE!! Ohhhh, Saaanty-kins,” he purred, “I have been ever so good this year! Wilst ewe pwease bwing me a yo-yo, a new bike, a pair of skates, a new Memory-Scrambler, Shychick’s panties, and many other goodies?” He began to bounce up and down in Uncle’s lap, like a child high on sugar. Drool, slobber, snort Can I have my customary candy-cane now?”

In response, Robotnik merely knocked Snively unconscious. He lay on the floor, muttering snatches of a familiar song: “Santa, baby... hurry down the chimmy, tonight...” In blissful unconsciousness, he was doing a lap-dance before Santa’s Throne, in his Ice Palace... wearing nothing but a tight, black leather thong, like Frank wore in Rocky Horror.

But the following year...

Snively had enough of his beloved idol’s shit, and so one day he snapped.

Early that Christmas morning- even before before his uncle was even up, for the mad doctor liked to sleep late on these wretched Holiday mornings, since he knew there’d be no Freedom Fighter attacks- he noticed his Teddy staring strangely at him.

That pissed him off. “What the fuck are you looking at, you mangy little bag of stuffing?! HUH?! FUCKING ANSWER ME, DAMNIT- OR STOP DRILLING THOSE DAMN BUTTONS OF YOURS INTO MY SKULL!!” he screamed in his high-pitched voice, foaming at the mouth, and wildly shaking the bear. “CEASE YOUR CONFOUNDED ATTEMPTS TO READ MY MIND!!”

No response from Shnookums.

“Oh, you won’t talk, will you? Did you fucking become deaf, all of a sudden? You think I was born yesterday, buddy?! Take your master, Snively the Great, for a bloody fool, do you?! But know this- when you dare to challenge Snively the Great to a battle of wits, you had better be armed to the teeth!” He roared, “I SAID, STOP LOOKING AT ME! STOP READING MY THOUGHTS! Wait a minute... you- you think I’m bloody crazy, don’t you?! DON’T YOU?! DON’T BOTHER TO DENY IT, BEAR!!”

The paranoid lackey went cross-eyed, began to laugh like a fruitcake, dance on the spot, and drum his finger on his lips. “Bbbb-llll!!”

In his fit of rage and insanity, he tied up poor Shnookums, and smacked duct tape over his mouth. Then he hurried down to the Control Chamber, and activated the code that would open the Void’s gateway. He grabbed his old pal, hijacked Robotnik’s personal hovercraft, and took off for the Great Unknown at top speed, towards the Void...

“Dear Mr. I’m-too-good-to-call-or-write-my-fans,

This’ll be the last package I EVER send your fat ass!!

It’s been an entire year again, and still no word; I don’t deserve it! I know you got my last two letters; I wrote the address on ‘em perfect! I even left you my phone #, pager, E-mail address, AOL user-name, but you still didn’t contact me!

So this is my cassette I’m sending you. I’m in the hovercraft right now; I’m doing ninety in the sky...

Hey, Santy, I just drank a fifth of eggnog; dare me to drive?

And all I wanted was a lousy letter, call, or a gift!

I hope you know I ripped ALL your pictures off the wall!!

I loved you, Santa; we could’ve been together! Think about it! You ruined it now! I hope your conscious eats at you when you can’t BREATH WITHOUT ME!!

See, Kris Krap-head- shut the fuck up, cretin, I’m trying to talk! Hey, Santa- that’s my little helper, Shnookums, screaming in the background! But I didn’t slit him open, and stuff lumps of coal into his carcass; I just tied him up! See, I ain’t like you- ‘cause if he screams, he’ll suffer more, and then he’ll die too!

Well, gotta go now; I’m almost at the Void- oh shit, I forgot; how am I supposed to send this shit out, from there-?!”

Meanwhile, Santa Clause was up in his Palace, reading fan mail after twenty minutes of hot luvin’ with the missus... and drowning out his sorrows in a bottle of Hootchie, over all the shit that went on in this world, plus the great lack of faith in his name.

He suddenly noticed Snively’s letter, and began reading... and then began to regret having ever spotted it, in the first place.

So he began to write back:

“Dear Snively,

I’m sorry I didn’t write sooner; I’ve just been busy. And sorry I missed you outside my door; I must notta seen ya.

Look- I’m really flattered you idolize me so much, especially at your age. And here’s an autograph for... “Shnookums”; I wrote that on the Santa cap.

I just think I should inform you that I hardly ever hear “I’m your biggest fan” anymore. And you’re certainly the only adult who’s ever said that to me... and btw, that was an imposter you met at the mall, okay? Not the real deal. The whole stinkin’ world’s full of fat old farts in red coats, impersonating my ass; it’s really insuting to my good name. Don’t be fooled by these fakers. For God’s sake, will the real St. Nick please stand up?! I think we’re gonna have a little problem here...

And you’re the first person I’ve ever confessed this to- but “Ho-ho-ho” actually means “FUCK OFF, AND LEAVE ME ALONE!” I say that to these brats all the time, but they never seem to get the message. Don’t let that get out, though; it could be bad for my rep.

I really think you need some counselling, man; to help your ass from bouncing off the walls when you get down some. And what’s this shit about us meant to be together? That kind of shit’ll make me not want us to meet each other!

And don’t make Shnookums jealous- that’s not the way of Santa’s children. Maybe you just need to treat him better...

I think you’ll be doing fine if you relax a little, but Snively, why are you so mad?! Try to understand that I do want you as a fan! I just don’t want you to do some crazy shit. I saw this thing on the News, man; it made me sick- some dude was drunk, and he crashed his hovercraft into some dimensional warp, with his Teddy-Bear in the trunk. In the hover-unit, this old wizard and king- the only two inhabitants of that freaky portal, until this wacko- found a tape, but it didn’t say who it was to.”

He paused, frowning. “Come to think of it... it was-”

And then it suddenly hit him.

“ - It was you! Damn...”

THE END

Joly old Kris Kringle goes flying past, in a sleigh drawn by eight tiny reindeer “Ho-ho-ho! And so this... is Christmas!”

Btw, the third and final chapter of “This I Vow” will be coming soon.

Uh, happy Holidays, folks; LOL! Don’t forget to leave a review in my stocking! They really do make great stocking-stuffers, you now... ;)

This has been a Shychick Production!