Santa Claus lies collapsed on the bar at Silent Plight, the only tavern in the North Pole. The door creaks open and a little elf appears, a worried look on his face.

Mr. Pinkles: Santa? Santa, wake up! It’s Christmas Eve!

Santa: Christmas is canceled, Mr. Pinkles. I won’t be delivering any presents this year.

Mr. Pinkles: Santa, how could you say that?! Why wouldn’t you want to deliver presents to the whole world?

Santa: Because everyone in the world is a giant shitbag.

Mr. Pinkles: Everyone was naughty this year? There’s not a single person on the good list?

Santa: There’s not even anyone on the naughty list. Everyone’s on the giant shitbag list. Do you have any aspirin?

Mr. Pinkles: I don’t think you’re supposed to mix that stuff with alcohol, Santa.

Santa: I’ve been alive for centuries. Fuck your rules.

Mr. Pinkles: Maybe a little song will get you into the holiday spirit! (singing) Have yourself a merry little Christmas . . .

Santa: You’re fired. Take your shit and leave.

The music stops. A tear rolls down Mr. Pinkles’ cheek as he removes his little hat and walks out of the bar. Thirty minutes later, another elf enters.

Darren: Santa? I’m Darren, your new head elf.

Santa: Darren? No. That’s the name of an insurance salesman who secretly watches shemale porn. Your new elf name is Fart.

Fart: Um, can we wait until you’re sober to choose a . . .

Santa: Shut up, Fart. Santa’s trying to induce short term memory loss. The world was a terrible place this year.

Fart: Santa, if everyone’s on the naughty list, why not give them a stocking full of coal?

Santa: Coal is more valuable than toys now. It’s no longer a punishment. They’ll just use it to rule others like slaves in the post apocalypse.

Fart: Well, you said everyone’s on the shitbag list. Why not . . . give everyone that?

For the first time, Santa sat up at the bar, a small twinkle returning to his eye.

Santa: My goodness! We could do that! If we all work together, we could do it! Great scott, Fart! Christmas has been saved! Gather the elves, reindeer and all the polar bears who haven’t signed contracts with Coca-Cola yet! We’ve got a long night ahead of us!

Motivational music plays to a montage of Santa and his elves, reindeer and polar bears drinking coffee and laxatives while their leavings are collected in satin bags. Cut to shots of elves with clothespins on their noses tying the bags with pretty bows. Cut to elves loading Santa’s sleigh with steaming bags.

Fart: You’ll certainly be warm tonight, Santa!

Santa: Let’s get moving, Fart! It’s time we gave the people of this world what they deserve. On Shitter! On Log Splitter! On Dumper and Grumper! On Poopin’ and Scoopin’! On Farter and Sharter! Use your Christmas magic to get this shit off the ground!

With a wink and a smile, Santa and his little Fart lifted off into the night, delivering sacks of turds to the people who deserved them most.

Fart: Who’s first on the list, Santa?

Santa: Politicians! CEOs! People who brush their teeth in the bathroom at work! Thieves who steal from the poor! Drivers who don’t yield to pedestrians! People who only vote along party lines! Racists! Misogynists! Internet trolls! Asswipes who don’t shovel their sidewalks in the wintertime! Kylo Ren’s hair!

Fart: So everyone in the universe then? Even Gandhi?

Santa: Especially Gandhi! Bags of shit for his grave! Bags of shit for everyone!

Glenna, the lady at your work who flushes her used tampons down the toilet, lies asleep in her bed. Outside the window we hear Santa’s voice in the distance.

Santa: Ho ho ho! Merrrrrry Christmas!

Glenna springs from her bed and flings open the shutters, peering out the window with a big smile. A giant bag of reindeer poop splats her in the face at 100 mph, exploding on impact.

Glenna: Ackk! Oh God! I forcefully swallowed so much of it! Ackkk!

Bill Cosby rubs the sleep from his eyes and hobbles downstairs to his Christmas tree. There’s only one present underneath, a gigantic, beautifully wrapped box. When he opens it, the motion sensor inside the box goes off, exploding 74 pounds of liquid polar bear poop, drenching Cosby and ruining the inside of his house.

Cosby: That’s not a puddin’ pop.

Fart: Good job, Santa! We delivered over 7.3 billion bags of poo vengeance tonight! We only have one left.

Santa: Yes, Fart. And that bag is for me. I have done something the world needed, but throwing bags of poop at people is not very nice.

Fart: No Santa! Don’t do it!

Santa picks up the bag and pours the contents onto his own face.

Fart: Noooooo!

Santa: It is done. The world is in balance again. Polar bears sure do eat interesting things. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a big middle finger because all of us were terrible human beings this year.