Todd f*cking Simmons. He thinks she can just prance into the neighborhood and win the Christmas
decorating prize two years in a row? Well he’s f*cking wrong about that. He thinks just because he got a giant inflatable snowman
he’s the instant victor? Well, not in my neighborhood, Todd Simmons.
I hope you get some sunglasses for Christmas, Todd, because you’re about to get blinded by about 20,000 watts of pure Christmas power light extravaganza. Sure, I spent most of the kids’ Christmas gift money on decorations this year, but this season isn’t about giving and family and love and all that shit. This year, it’s about one thing: kicking your ass
. You’re gonna have to do more than just buy an inflatable snowman at Walmart if you want to snatch that Best Decorated House prize from my clutches. That’s right, Todd, my wife and I are going to be feasting at TGIFriday’s
with that $25 gift card while you and your wife are going to have to pay full price for your meal. Then we’ll see who the real man is! Then we’ll see!!!!
Oh yes, Friday’s hamburger, you will be mine. Todd may have an inflatable snowman this year, but I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve as well. Just wait til I get the giant robot Santa on the roof. Then it’s straight on to—-what the f*ck is this?!
Somebody tampered with my f*cking reindeer! Who would do such a thing?…f*cking Todd Simmons would. Oh, that son of a bitch! Who the f*ck does that asshole think he is? Making my light-up reindeer f*ck each other on the front lawn for all the neighborhood to see?! What a cunt. I wish I still had that giant inflatable dick that I used to bust out at parties in college. I’d strap that thing to his snowman so fast it would short his whole system out. Alright, enough of that Simmons dickhead. It’s time for me to just focus on my game and do what I know best: plugging in and arranging complex networks of festive light bulbs for viewing purposes. Let’s take a look my the whole set up:
BOOM! How you like me now, Todd Simmons?! Hells yeah. I’d like to see you try to beat me this year, motherf*cker! I got f*ckin’ candy cane lights, like a billion f*ckin’ wreaths, I got a bright-ass star on the top of my house up there. You can’t touch this, Simmons! Yeah, I see you outside in the yard checkin’ out my set up. What’s that smell? Do you smell that, Simmons? It smells like jealousy, and it’s coming from your direction! Ha ha! Suck on my light show ’til your jaw locks up, bitch! Oh, you’re gonna fire up your lights, are ya? Yeah, bring it on, bitch! My house is so distracting they’re not even gonna know yours is there! By the time they get to your house, they’re eyes are still gonna be readjusting from being blown out of their mind by my house. I’m gonna blind your ass, you—-
…Huh. That’s um,…that’s a pretty good set up he’s got over there. That’s a really good star he’s got. Probably better than mine. He probably could’ve done something with those trees in his front yard, but I gotta say, the snowman really accentuates the house very well. It’s clean, classy, and sophisticated. Good use of color and variety. The candy cane pillars are a really nice touch. I wish I had thought of that…F*CK. That’s a good house. I’m not sure if my house can beat that. I mean, I have reindeer f*cking in my front yard right now. If I don’t win that TGIFriday’s gift card, my wife is gonna kill me. Alright, desperate times call for desperate measures. It’s time to bust out the ol’ BB gun.
Dammit. I promised myself I would never do this again. I thought my BB Gun Christmas Light Sniper days were over. I have to, though. I don’t have any other choice. If my wife gets mad at me, there’s no way she’s gonna get me that hard drive for my Xbox, and I really f*cking need that hard drive. Alright, I’ll have to work quickly and efficiently. Leave no trace. Don’t be seen. Don’t be heard. I’ll use my own, less-awesome star to hide behind, and then I’ll just start picking off Todd’s bulbs one by one…but I’m gonna start with that f*cking snowman. One BB, right between the eyes. That should do the trick. It’s quick and painless. It’s the humanitarian way to execute an inflatable snowman. I’m locked and loaded, the time is now. There’s no turning—-
What the f*ck? Patti and Earl from the Homeowner’s Association? They’re judging the Christmas decorations tonight? I thought the judging was tomorrow night?! Oh, shit. If they see me up here on the roof sniping the neighbor’s lights, I’ll be disqualified for sure. F*CK! What do I do? Okay, well the house is too bright to try an escape now. I’m basically sitting in the middle of a giant spotlight. My best chance is to just try to blend in to my surroundings.
There. I don’t think they’re even noticing me. This moving back and forth repeatedly to look like an animatronic robot is helping me fit in even more. I’ll have to come up with a good excuse tomorrow as to why I put a sniper on my roof as a Christmas decoration. Maybe I can just forge some manuscripts to look like lost pages of the Bible that tell a previously unheard story about the sniper that showed up when Jesus was born and watched over the manger’s inhabitants from the roof with a badass sniper BB Gun. That shouldn’t be too hard. Whatever I have to do to win this f*cking contest. That’s all that matters. F*ck you, Todd Simmons. F*ck you. Also, please thank your wife for the delicious plate of Christmas cookies that she brought over this morning. They were incredible. Now go f*ck yourself.