coal for christmas, hell for ever

Mr McMuffin is going to hell for Christmas and I might be joining him. After reading his question (which I feared may be quite offensive to people with no real faith or sense of humour) it got me thinking. If Jesus is my friend, then why doesn't he call or write? Ask after my parents? Tell me that the matt mauve lipstick I occasionally wore in the 80's made my teeth look really yellow? I'm sure other people could give me very good reasons for this, but a real friend would tell me themselves.

Anyway, it's time to introduce you to the McMuffin family. We've been very busy over the last couple of days having children and we now have seven. They are called Dasher, Dancer, Prancer (he's only five and he wants to be a designer in the theatre), Comet, Cupid, Donner and Blitzen. We think seven is quite enough for now, but if we ever have a 'happy accident' we have Vixen as a reserve name. However, given our low boredom thresholds it's quite possible that we may be tired of them by Christmas and looking to give them away to a good home, or a few not so good homes if we're really desperate. I'd probably keep Prancer though, every girl needs a son to take her shopping.