All those greedy hearts clamouring for more, growing sick within their cess pool of self congratulatory cowardice, growing colder beneath those garish masks... they all want more this Christmas. And so there will be slay bells for them alone, for the ones whom pamper to their own comfort at the expense of those who need help. Pray that regardless of the gold you call your own, that you've won the golden call, the one to duty and to live in the service of others. Otherwise, you will wish Santa hadn't brought your fire quite so much coal. "Hell-o, I'm checking my list, checking it twice, gonna find out..."