Positively enraged as Jingle Bells plays, you wish these days were your last.
You pack some crap into a santa's sack that you've shoved festinately into your cart.
The counter clerk, with elf clothes and a smirk, wishes you a cheery "season's greetings!".
But all you can think, is that you're about an inch from raining upon someone a fistful of brutal beatings.