I Can't Believe You Don't Quote Me Verbatim

Heidi wanders out to the kitchen where Kande is banging pots and pans. "What'd you want when I was watching Cranford?" Kande had tried to interrupt her in the middle of a very sad part, and Heidi wasn't having any of it. She was tired of people interrupting her in the middle of movies.

"Lynn loved the book "Eat, Pray, Love" and I wanted to know if you'd read it," Kande snidely informed her as she banged the stew pot on the counter. "But, nooooo. You had to be rude and tell me to go away."

"Of course I've read it. I recommended it in my Christmas letter. Didn't you read it?"

"Yeeeessss," Kande says, ducking under the counter.

"Oh. My. God. You did not. You did not read my Christmas letter!"

"I did," Kande comes back up for air, her face red. "I just can't remember what it said."

Satan, who had been watching the two from the corner, now made himself known by slamming his little sock hands on the table. "This is why we're not celebrities. Your Christmas letter isn't memorable."

Now it's Heidi's turn to be redfaced. "Oh yeah? How many Christmas letters do YOU get that mention cursing, recommend books, and talk about Sock Critters?"

Satan tsk's. "Socks don't send Christmas letters. We can't reach the mailbox."

The others add their two cents, all except Dave. He actually had received two Christmas letters. One from his friend Gabriel, and the other from Jesus. Jesus had sent him a birthday card with a picture of a nativity scene on the front. Inside it had said "Happy Birthday to me!" and invited Dave to a rockin' party in Heaven, but unfortunately the little demon had gotten stopped at the gates and not allowed in.

Kande comes out of her room, dressed in sweats and a tee shirt. She and Heidi planned to wrassle for remote to the TV. As she enters the living room, she feels a draft and looks down at herself.

"Crap!" she screeches. "How did this happen?"

Satan turns from the TV screen and blanches. "My eyes! My eyes!" he wails, clutching his face and falling to the floor. The other Socks turn to see what set him off.

"Good golly, girl! What are you wearing?" Stan gasps.

Kande crosses her legs and hunches over trying to hide herself. She is clothed in a strap of cloth around her chest, sumo wrestler diapers, and argyle knee socks. The Socks who had gathered 'round behind her flee in terror when she bends over, exposing a vast expanse of rubbery hind end.

"Ooh," Kande seethes. "This is Heidi's fault! I came out here dressed respectfully, and this is what happens." She turns and starts stalking towards Heidi's bedroom, the Socks falling in behind and shielding their eyes from her wobbling rear end.

Throwing open the door, Kande bellows at Heidi. "Quit blogging and changing my clothes! This was supposed to be a respectable wrestling match." She stops and stares at her sister. All that can be seen beneath the pile of blankets is a quivering red nose. "What's wrong with you?"

"I'm siiiiiiick," Heidi wails, her voice muffled from all the covers she's piled on top of herself. "Come closer, sister, so that I may bid you adieu."

Kande looks at her skeptically, but does as she asks. "You're talking funny too."

Heidi throws an arm theatrically over her forehead. Her eyes are watery hot orbs above chapped, flushed cheeks. "I think I was poisoned with cage troll sweat. Just throw me on top of a pyre with the rest of the plague victims!"

Kande turned to the Socks. "She's been watching 'Lord of the Rings' again, right? I told you guys to hide those DVD's!"

Dave looks puzzled. "There aren't any plague victims in Lord of the Rings. She must be delusional."

"Ooh," Stan enthuses. "Remember when Gandalf plunged into the pit with the fire demon? I cry every time!"

"That fire demon was one of mine," Satan informs them self-importantly. "Peter was so grateful I sent him, that he gave me tickets to the opening."

"Harold," Dave says sotto voice to the rest of the Socks. "Used to be an investment banker pre-Hell. Very full of himself."

Heidi has pushed herself up on the pillows as they were talking. "Best. Movies. Ever. You should watch them."

Kande frowns. "If you weren't blogging and made me wear this outfit, then who did?" She gestures towards the sumo diaper, which has started to sag.

"Hmm. Who else likes to see you wear ridiculous outfits?" Heidi muses.

All Dave Wants For Christmas

Satan stares intently at the computer screen. "C'mon, peoples. I know you're out there. Comment!"

"They're probably too busy with Santa stuff, Boss," Dave tells him helpfully, as he hangs his stocking over the fireplace.

"Since when did 'Ho, Ho, Ho' replace 'Muwahahahaha?'" Satan snarled as he slammed down the lid of the laptop.

"Probably since 'ho, ho, ho' comes with presents," Dave continues helpfully, and gets the *present* of a box on the ear from Satan. He sighs. He asked Santa for a lump of coal and a lighter. Contrary to popular belief, there are cold days in Hell. Sometimes Satan would send demons with whom he was displeased to an arctic waste deep in the depths of the most forbidding corner of Hell. It was so cold it burned the lungs and one could feel nostril hairs bristling and breaking off in the nose. Dave hoped the coal and lighter would help if he ever got sent there again.

Of course, he'd also asked Santa for a shameful secret gift: a harp.

Santa Monkey's coming to town...

"He sees you when you're sneaking.
He knows when you're passed out.
He knows when you've been nabbed by cops
So be discrete for cryin' out loud..."

The sock critters cover their ears, but can't completely block out the horrendous noise that is Heidi singing. Dave goes over to the radio and turns it up. It doesn't completely end the squeals, but it's a vast improvement.

"Stan, is there really a Santa Monkey?" As he asks, Cal sits at the feet of the worldly Stan. Or at least the critters think he's worldly. He does wear a smoking jacket, after all. Dave, Satan, GOB and his goat, and Dr. F gather around. Stan, realizing he has an audience, puffs out his chest.

"Of course there's a Santa Monkey!"

"Don't you mean Satan Monkey?" snorts Dave. Satan gives him a soul-leeching look. Dave blanches and moves closer to the witch.

Stan continues. "I remember this night back in '07 when Santa Monkey and I really painted the town. Ah, what a night. Santa had this gig where he would go down chimneys and hook up with the ladies. He was paid handsomely, too. All the milk and cookies he could imbibe."

"You mean...Santa Monkey is a gigolo?" asks an awe-struck Cal.

Digging himself an even deeper hole: "Yes. Yes he is. Or was, rather. He quit the night he went down Heidi's chimney. Did you know," he leans in and whispers to the group, "she walks around wearing nothing but ratty old lady underpants with knee-hi nylons and a halter top when she thinks no one is around?" He visibly shudders. "Boy, that's an image I'll never get out of my head."

As Usual, You've Lost Me

Heidi looks up from her book as Kande shuffles into the living room, wearing a paper hospital robe and leaving damp footprints in the carpet. The robe sticks to her body in wet patches and has staples in the hem. She's holding it together it in the back.

"What did you do with my clothes?" she says between clenched teeth.

"What clothes?" Heidi asks, still staring at her sister. Why would anyone wear a hospital robe willingly outside of a hospital?

Kande clutches at her hair, but then remembers the open back of the robe and the fact that her back is to the window on a busy street. "Why do you always do this to me on the blog?" she wails.

"Do what to you? I have no idea what you're talking about!" Heidi informs her in a hurt tone.

Meanwhile...back in the office Satan is typing away on the computer, while the other Sock Critters egg him on.

"Ooh, make her pull out a clump of her hair!" Stan tells him as Satan blogs away.

"Have Heidi order her back into the bathroom to put on her granny underwear," Dave chortles.

What's Heidi Doing You'd Like to Know?

Leaving Kande to her much-needed shower, the Socks use their collective strenth to push open the bedroom door and check on their beloved leader. Peering into the living room, they see Heidi, showered and dressed and with neatly shorn and brushed hair, sipping coffee with her legs tucked under her reading a book. The house is tidy, good smells are emitting from the kitchen, a fire burns merrily in the fireplace while snow falls softly outside.

"What?" asks Heidi politely.

"Just checkin'," Satan informs her. The Socks go back to waiting for massive amounts of fawning from fans.

We're Celebrities!

Stan gives his ears a final pat, and smoothes down the front of his plaid, polyester smoking jacket. Behind him, Satan and Demon Dave jostle for the mirror.

"Hell's Bells, Dave. You're covered in cat fur," Satan admonishes his minion while licking his finger and running it over his thin goatee and mustache. A final twitch to his black cape and he pronounces himself as the handsomest Sock Creature on the face of the planet.

"Critter," Dave informs him absently as he frantically tries to brush away all the cat fur adhering to his little black sock body.

"Pardone moi?" Satan asks him politely, although his eyes are slitted and his trigger finger is poised for battle.

"Heidi called us sock critters in her Xmas newsletter," Dave tells him nervously. The last thing he needs now is a singed ear on the eve of his chance at celebrity status. He is saved from just that by the entrance of Kande, grody from not yet having a shower. Her short hair sticks up on one side, her eyes are crusted with sleep boogers, and her breath reeks. Her haphazardly sewn boxer shorts are held up with string and her robe has rips from where the cats used it for a scratching post. She yawns, causing all the assembled sock critters to gasp and choke.

"Lucifer's lips!" Satan gags. "Brush much?"

Stan waves a paw in front of his nose. "Garlic pizza for breakfast?"

Kande snarls at them. "Three days ago is the answer to both of those questions. What's going on here?"

The sock critters gather themselves a respectable distance from her. "We're celebrities."

"Celebrities! Since when?" Kande barks.

"Let's see," Stan starts counting on his fingers. "Heidi sent her newsletter out last Thursday. The Iowa contigent of fans should have received it on Saturday. Any day now we're expecting a huge number of people reading and commenting on her the Sock Sisters blog."

"Hell-oooooo out there!" Satan bellows suddenly. "I'm the best looking Sock! And the most fun!"

"It's not like they're in the room, dinglebutt," Kande giggles.

All the Sock critters look around. "Oh, they're out there," Stan informs her in a hushed voice. "They're lurking right now. I'm sure we'll receive compliments any minute now."

"Comments, not compliments." Realizing that even now friends and family members might be judging her, Kande closes her robe and wishes she'd thought to shave her legs and cut her toe talons. "I'm off to take a shower."

"Close the door this time!" Satan hollers after her. "I just had breakfast."