A Politically Correct Xmas Story
By Dwayne Anderson
Hello, I'm Turanga Leela, and I'm taking this opportunity to send season's
greetings to everyone at this joyous time of the year, except Zapp Brannigan.
It's Xmas Eve. Soon, Santa will be here, but we'll all be in bed. Just as well
though, due to the fact that Santa's a robot who gives toys to the good and kills
the naughty, but only if they're still awake.
In Fry's time, it was called Christmas, and Santa Claus was a fat jolly man
with a belly that shaked like a bowlful of jello. I find it hard to believe that
a man can deliver presents to everyone in the world in just one night.
Even though it's now called Xmas, we sometimes call it "The Day Before
I'm sitting next to the fireplace in Planet Express. I'm reading a story about
the true meaning of Christmas. I'd like to read it to you. However, to satisfy
those man-hating feminists, I'm going to make it politically correct.
Many years ago, in a far away place called Bethlaperson, there were two significant
others searching for a place to stay for the night. The husband was a womb-disadvantage
person, who toiled as a wood-working technician. His wife had no means to make
a living, so she depended on her spouse.
The couple found no place had room, so they had to stay in a government assisted
housing unit, along with other barnyard non-humans.
Now there's something you should know. The wife was in a delicate condition.
Thanks to an encounter with a non-denominational gender non-specific supreme being,
she had become virginally challenged.
And it was here in this housing unit, where she gave birth to a gender non-specific
infant. Where the gender non-specific infant was born, a star shone in the sky,
brighter than all the dimmer ones.
Joy spread quickly to a nearby shepherd as he or she watched over his or her
flock of potential sweater providers.
And later, a trio of intelligent persons visited the gender non-specific infant.
They brought gold, frankenscene, and mrryh.
The couple was grateful, although they really could have used some huggies.
And that's the story. I have to go now, Fry's standing over me with the mistletoe.
Have yourself a festive holiday!