Coming out of the washing machine strangely refreshed, Rap joins the several chori over by the NNE wall, and look out the window at the Lawn Moor.

"Come on, fellows! Let's cheer him up" says Rap, leading the group out the sliding French door that leads to the patio under the banyon tree.

Looking inquiringly at Teresa Terrific, Rap starts with ( it being the most romantic song he knows)

"I hold your hand in mine, dear,
I press it to my lips.
I take a healthy bite
From your dainty fingertips.

My joy would be complete, dear,
If you were only here,
But still I keep your hand
As a precious souvenir."



Continuing to leher, he then sings (accompanied by the assembled chori in 32 part harmony)

Christmas time is here, by golly,
Disapproval would be folly,
Deck the halls with hunks of holly,
Fill the cup and don't say "when."
Kill the turkeys, ducks and chickens,
Mix the punch, drag out the Dickens,
Even though the prospect sickens,
Brother, here we go again.

On Christmas day you can't get sore,
Your fellow man you must adore,
There's time to rob him all the more
The other three hundred and sixty-four.

Relations, sparing no expense'll
Send some useless old utensil,
Or a matching pen and pencil.
"just the thing I need! how nice!"
It doesn't matter how sincere it
Is, nor how heartfelt the spirit,
Sentiment will not endear it,
What's important is the price.

Hark the herald tribune sings,
Advertising wondrous things.
God rest ye merry, merchants,
May you make the yuletide pay.
Angels we have heard on high
Tell us to go out and buy!

So let the raucous sleigh bells jingle,
Hail our dear old friend Kris Kringle,
Driving his wombats across the sky.
Don't stand underneath when they fly by."