This is my favorite time of year. Everyone means so well. They mean to get back in touch with relatives they haven't spoken to in a year. They mean to spend more time with their family. They mean to stick to their New Year's Resolutions this time around. So many good intentions, and it's so easy to collect them.

That's why I volunteer so much. It lets you get in touch with all those good intentions. Take all this bell-ringing I do. The money I hand off to the Salvation Army, and I'm sure it makes someone's life better, but the good intentions that people hand off with the money I keep for myself, take home every day, and melt down into little solid blocks. (It's amazing how many good intentions you can keep stored in a furry red hat.)

After they cool, I take these little rounded blocks of shiny gold, gleaming with the best that humanity has to offer, and lay them down in my basement, ten blocks wide, and stretching on and on into the bottomless depths. For, you see, I am building a road—a road straight to hell. When it gets there, I will use it to summon a demon, and that will make my life better. I'm almost there, and I think I should make it this year, right around Christmas eve. Phenomenal cosmic power and rulership over my fellow man—that'll be my Christmas present to myself.