Finally settle the question “Where are they going?” by bringing a drifter home for the holidays.
A calculator to tally everyone’s caloric intake. Write the total on each person’s hand with a red pen and a wince.
A life-size cardboard cutout of the deformed guy from Goonies for everyone to genuflect before and feel thankful they don’t look like him.
A party mix that includes the best of the Ying Yang twins.
A horn of plenty spilling over with hamsters.
The Williams-Sonoma catalog to compare against the table your host has set. Rub your temples and mutter, “The mediocrity some people will accept…”
Bring a baby no one knows and pretend it’s yours and that it’s named Pocahontas.
A slideshow of the people you met at a nudist retreat in Key West.
Espresso sundaes for your hyperactive nephews.
A hammer with a note attached that reads, “You’d better hide, Mannheim Steamroller CD.”
Those letters of the alphabet stocking hooks to spell out W-E-I-R-D-O-S on the mantle.
Bring your sister’s ex-fiance and yell, “Surprise! Guess who’s gotten over his fidelity issues?!”
A pair of scissors to dole out group Miley Cyrus haircuts.
A bucket of names for the Christmas lottery but declare that you’ve “left Grandpa out intentionally since no one wants to deal with another whittled bear figurine.”
Some pitbull puppies you were traded for expired canned goods.
The Cindy Crawford exercise DVD. Every time someone gets up for seconds, shout, “You go do this in the basement and don’t come back until you look good in a mole and a red one-piece bathing suit!”
The bags of leaves you’ve raked from your own yard. Scatter them wildly around your host’s front lawn, chanting, “From my home to yours!”
The carcasses of dead animals found along the drive. Look at everyone like they’re crazy and say, “We’re eating local, people! Low carbon footprint this year.”