Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammunition

(From “The Book of Armaments”)
The people stand or kneel
Officiant: The Lord be with you.
People: And with thy spirit.
Officiant: Let us lock and load.
[Sound of a church full of guns cocking a round in the chamber.]
Officiant: Lord, we thank thee for our Second Amendment protections.
People: Thanks be to God.
Officiant: For it is written: “Who shall stop a bad guy with a gun?” And the people answered …
People: A good guy with a gun.
Officiant: Amen. And what shalt it be said of a church full of good guys with guns?
People: Even better.
Officiant: And so it came to pass in the Lord’s mercy.
People: Amen.
Officiant: But be not puffed up with pride, for the bad guy cometh as a well-armed sheep in wolf’s clothing. Shalt thou spend time practicing in the rifle range?
People: Before the Lord, we shalt.
Officiant: Wilst thou neglect not thine ammunition?
People: Before the Lord, we shalt not.
Officiant: Wilst thou field-strip your weapon and keep it cleaned and oiled on a daily basis?
People: Before the Lord, we shalt.
Officiant: Let us aim.

A Clockwork Santa

Santa: (VO) There was me, that is Santa, and me three elfies, Snowball, Twinkles and Chunky. And we sat in the Korova milk-and-cookie bar making up our rassoodocks what to do with the evening. It was a jolly, sparkly night of holiday joy, though dry. We were drinking milkplus. Milk plus Christmas cheer, milk plus holiday spirit, milk plus child's wonder. That would sharpen you up, and get you ready for a bit of the old naughty-and-nice.

Santa (V.O.) It was around by the derelict Christmas Shoppe that we came across Scrooge and his four droogs. They were getting ready to perform a bit of the old hide-the-crutch on weepy young Tiny Tim.

Santa and elves step out of the shadows.

Santa: Ho, Ho, Ho... Well, if it isn't starving, stinking, miserly, old Scroogie in poison. How are thou, thou year-old sack of dried-up Christmas pudding? Come and get one in the yarbles, if you have any yarbles, you eunuch jelly thou.

Scrooge snaps open a switchblade knife.

Scrooge: Let's start the war on Christmas, boys!

The fight begins—a wicked swirl of chains, knives, kicking boots, exploding Christmas lights, brick-packed stockings, flashing candy canes, and sacks of coal.

The dust finally settles. Scrooge and his droogies are reduced to a stain on the floor.

Tiny Tim: God bless you, Santa!

Santa: Sod off you little twit.

Police siren.

Santa: The police ... come on, let's go... come on.

Santa and the elves rush out of the Christmas Shoppe.

Do assholes go to heaven?

EXT: Pearly Gates – endless day

Fluffy white clouds. A long queue of souls. At the front of the line, two Dead Assholes stand before St. Peter at his lectern. One Dead Asshole notices the other.

Dead Asshole #1: Oh … it’s you? You? What the hell are you doing here?

Dead Asshole #2: What the hell are you doing here?

Dead Asshole #1: Fuck you!

Dead Asshole #1: No … fuck you!

A trap door opens in the cloud beneath them. The two Dead Assholes fall screaming into the Lake of Fire. The trap door closes. St. Peter sighs, then sadly scratches off two names in his Big Book of Souls. Looks up again.

St. Peter: Next!