Kozy Krampus

We arrive yet again at the end of it all: the dreaded holiday season, where everything is too bright, nothing is where it should be, and you will be constantly hounded by the persistent dread of having forgotten something very important. And traffic will be totally and utterly f*cked all the way to the mall. We are doomed.

But there may still be some spark in these fading minutes before the heat death of the universe, before the last tear is shed, and before the last present is unwrapped. M...