Christmas. That time of year when you watch the young people in your family opens gifts. You see the light and joy in their eyes. Then they open another gift... Then another. And another.

Now that light in their eyes doesn't look so much like joy. It begins to look like the metallic glint of animal craveness.

Now there is a pile of goods in the middle of the room, a Toy Story reunion, that has grown indistinguishable from the wrapping trash. And the kids aren't even looking at the gifts they have just opened but are in search of the next.

I've seen amphetimine addicts act this way. I want to back out of the room but the little ghouls are getting to my gifts now. What?! They've already torn mine open and moved on to the next.

Is that the smell of blood? Why is it difficult to breathe in here? My oatmeal and beer breakfast is coming up on me! Is this Lord of the Yule Tide Flies? Well, is it?!