Before rolling out this seasonal sequel, a little off-beat holiday humor; by way of revised lyrics excerpted from the Xmas classic, “Do you hear what I hear?” Said the shepherd boy to the mighty king… “Look your highness…a talking lamb!!!”

If you know your Xmas song lyrics, it’s kinda funny. The original song was written in October 1962, with lyrics by Noël Regney and music by Gloria Shayne, as a plea for peace during the Cuban Missile Crisis. This fact makes the joke historically less funny but meh, crisis averted so it’s still some funny. Anywho…

‘Twas 2 weeks before Christmas, when out in the barn… (Well, that’s where I was; when spinning this yarn.) Why not at the house, watching Dr. Who from my chair? Because we all know what’d be going down there. Some holiday icon would show up at the door (as they have every year previously, before). They’d present some holiday crisis and then… I’d have to sorta save Christmas, all over again. And with Frank and John Q. currently away: (the reaper and stuffed bear on shopping ho-li-day). I’d have to go it alone and loathe to admit- I’m getting too old for this “save the holiday” s***!  So we’ll just wait it out here — if you don’t mind. Of course that’s when I was struck in the back from behind. What fiend had struck me from behind in the back? ‘Twas the boogeyman, the nightmare, that devil Pitch Black!

As I began to pick myself up from the ground… he gave me a kick and knocked me back down. He was dressed all in black from his head to his heel, a swirled mass of darkness that was quite surreal. His entire form was filled with pure wrath, like some out-of-his mind, gothic psychopath. His eyes — how they shifted — his expression quite wary! Dark and medieval — admittedly scary! His mouth was drawn into a sinister grin; I’m sure in my nightmares it’d be seen again. A twitch in those eyes and tilt of his head, soon gave me to know there was so much to dread.

“Good evening Mr. Chainsaw.” — His voice surprisingly sublime. Then he told me his scheme and he did it in rhyme. “Since the dark ages I’ve battled time and again, against the man in the moon’s punk guardians. Those fools which bring forth light, joy and mirth; through belief from the children, here on planet Earth. Yet no matter how clever or cunning my plan, I’m defeated time and again, by a bunny, a fairy and a sandman (triple rhyme, score points!). And of course the worse…” He took a notable pause, fore he spit out the words Kringle and Claus!

Dude I get it, you bring darkness and fear, you fight the good guys but…why are you here? I’m just a writer; I’ve caused you no grief. He snarled at me saying “You endorsed their BELIEF! In the article you wrote just one week ago, telling the children…letting them know. That there’s still Xmas magic in mailing a letter, and not to listen to those who think they know better. Because of that column you’ve caused me to grieve, because it caused people to continue to believe.  Now I don’t stand a chance against the big guns it’s true, but I’ve no problem disposing of bit players like you!”

So that’s how it is? How it’s going to be? You can’t take on Santa so you’re taking on me? ‘Take on me, (take on me) Take me on, (take on me) I’ll be gone, in a day or twoooo!’ Some A-ha fight music had started to play, so let’s get this holiday throwdown underway. I said not a word but went straight to my work, grabbed up my chainsaw, gave the ripcord a jerk. But he knocked it away with a flick of his hand, as the floor became a cesspool of blackening sand. It pulled ripping and tearing, dragging me to the ground. It was over, it’s finished, and I’m goin’ down. Looks like this is the END! Though that’s hard to conceive… that is of course unless you choose to believe. If not, then this surely ‘tis the ending of me!

To be continued… next week… in the finale… Act 3?


I welcome almost all questions, comments and BELIEF SUPPORT via FOCUS, or E-mail me at wanderingchainsaw@gmail.com.

Hope to hear from ya or I am DOOMED! See ya.