It was all very innocent -- Mr. Bad had just arrived in Austin to visit his friends in the Ministry of Truth, and an idea was hatched over dinner. Bad suggested, "Say, let's all three of us don Santa suits and have a night out. We can sing carols, hand out candy canes, wish people a merry Christmas -- it'd be nice to spread some holiday cheer in Austin." Surprised, we agreed; although Armand thought it sounded kind of, well, gay.

We headed downtown, and because our guest had been driving all day, we stopped for a drink.

Suddenly, without warning or so much as a sleigh bell jingle, six dozen other Santas mobbed the bar!

The bouncers and doormen were powerless to stem the tide of Santa-costumed revellers. They chanted in unison, "Let Santa in! Let Santa in!" and ignored all attempts at collecting cover charges. They swarmed around the bartenders and drank furiously.

Almost immediately, Barbie was singled out by the comely Calamity Claus, and we were swept up in the Bacchanalian / Kringlesque orgy of drinking, smoking, and ho-ho-ho-ing.

We stumbled from bar to bar in the heart of Austin, as if driven by some alien Santa hive mind. The local citizenry was understandably terrified, and could only dash out of the way as we blanketed the street in red and white.

As the night wore on, it got uglier and uglier. Some Santas started dancing and stripping on the bar, others started a wave, and all were hell-bent on being very, very naughty.

We finally escaped, and somehow made it back home, visions of blitzed Santas still dancing in our heads.