The entire event was overshadowed last year when my (fictitiously-fourth [hi Ben]) wife's nipples spontaneously combusted at the dinner table. In the commotion, the turkey got burned. So did the house. And my tortoise.
Really, I tried to stop celebrating Christmas, but people bought me presents and I felt bad about not getting any back. Also, I like the chocolate. Crass, commercialized chocolate...
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