Maybe I'll slit my wrists for Christmas. A present of red for the white white snow. Maybe I'll snort a little coke and fuck until dawn on Christmas day. Maybe I'll pass out and stay out not waking until the holiday is dead. Maybe I'll roll over and fetch a bone in honor of Christ's birth. Maybe I'll shoot you, offer you a gift of a bullet between the eyes. Maybe I'll become you for Christmas, just one day until I decide to stay. You never know with Eddie. You never know.