Ah, Christmas. A time of giving. A time of peace. A time when friends and family get together to laugh, reminisce, and share their smack.
This is a Sid Vicious Christmas.

December 24th, at 7:30 PM. Deep in the heart of Downtown Manhattan, lay the Bowery. And nestled among the junkies and street scum, rests a ramshackle tenement, where a rag tag group of young adults- all around the age of twenty-one, give or take a few years- sat around a long rectangular wooden table, that took up most of the two room apartment's floor space. Among these fine examples of Western Civilization's youth were Joey Ramone, David Johanssen, Johnny Thunders, Joe Strummer, Paul Siminon, Courtney Love, Kurt Cobain, Dee Dee Ramone, Jerry Nolan, Johnny Rotten, Mick Jones, and- man of the hour- Sid Vicious.
Sid- although in his own apartment- had no idea where he was, or why.
"When d'we eat?" Dee Dee asked loudly- much louder than necessary. "I want pizza!"
"We're havin' turkey, not pizza dumbass," Courtney groaned back, also rather loudly. "Y' don't 'ave pizza for Christmas fuckin' dinner." She reached across the table and gave a halfhearted blow to his noggin, although the smacked out bassist hardly noticed. "When d'we get pizza?"
Let it be known both Courtney and Dee Dee were high out of their minds.
"Would you two shut the fuck up already?" Johnny Rotten shot a harsh look in their direction.
Courtney's eyes flared with rage. "Make me!"
"Ooh! Me next! Make me next!" Dee Dee chimed in, waving his right hand in the air like a giddy student.
This odd (and very loud) response hushed all conversation momentarily, and, for a moment, there was absolute silence as the others took in the glory of this misunderstanding.
Then, Johnny Rotten spoke up once more.
"I wouldn't even if I were a fag. "
"...Different kind-a make?"
With that, all mouths opened in unison, eager to get their opinions in. Within seconds, Mick was already standing up and yelling, Courtney Love's glass had fallen and cracked, David Johanssen and Johnny Rotten were quarreling- Johnny growling and making crude hand signs with his middle fingers, while David stood up, swearing loudly and waving his arms around like a windmill in a flurry.
By this time, Kurt Cobain had passed out from overindulging in whatever drug it was that he and Courtney had obtained before they left their own home.
Joe and Paul were attempting to talk their band mate down from the forceful argument he was making, as not even Mick himself knew what it was he was opposing, or even who he was talking to. Johnny and David were both frothed to a mania, while Joey Ramone dove under the table for protection.
Sid was rather dazed by the whole thing.
Then, suddenly, there was a horrible crash as a porcelain plate collided with the back wall.
"Everybody shaddup!"
Everyone stopped what they were doing to behold Nancy Spungen- thrower of the plate- in the doorway, balancing a large platter housing a turkey on her right hand.
She quickly changed her harsh tone. "Turkey's done!" and she placed the turkey- which happened to have three syringes sticking out of it- on the table and settled at the head of the table, with Sid on one side, and Joey (who had returned from down below) on the other.
Thunders took one look at the turkey and grinned widely.
"Now that's the kind-a chicken I wanna eat!" he declared, standing up and reaching for a wing (or possibly, a syringe?)
"No, ya dumb fuck!" David Jo to the rescue, putting a firm hand on Johnny's shoulder, and pulling him back down again. "You gotta say grace first!"
"Oh, ta' hell with that!" Johnny groaned. "I wanna piece-a chicken." Still, he sat back down.
"It's a turkey, and you gotta say fuckin' grace if ya want any," David replied matter-o-factly. "Now we're gonna go around the table, and we're all gonna say what we're thankful for, got it? I'll start."
David paused just a moment.
"I'm thankful for..." he tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I'm thankful for...uuum..."
There was a short pause of five or so seconds before David spoke up again.
"Babes," He finished smartly. "Ok Johnny, you next."
"But I wanned ta' say babes!" Jerry Nolan protested from the other end of the table.
"Too damn bad, I said babes so you can put a fuckin' sock in it 'n' pick somethin' else."
"But I wanted babes!" Jerry continued, pounding his fist on the table.
"Jerry, you can take that hand 'a yers, and shove it up yer-"
"-I'm thankful for smack, ok, Joe yer turn!" Johnny announced in a bored tone, exaggerated with purpose. Nonetheless, he was eager to silence his band mates' quarrel. He turned to Joe Strummer and looked at him expectantly.
"'m thankful for speed," Joe said with a grin, displaying his speed-rotten teeth.
"Booze," Paul followed up quickly.
Next was Courtney's turn. "I'm thankful that Alanis Morisette is in rehab again, serves 'er right, that cunt."
Kurt was still unconscious, so the rotation skipped him and moved on to Dee Dee.
Dee Dee sat in silence, staring blankly at his empty plate.
seven...eight....nine seconds. Jerry Nolan poked him in the shoulder. "Psst! Dee Dee! Your turn!" He whispered.
Dee Dee snapped back to reality. "Hu? Oh, right. I'm thankful dat Connie gawt me a buncha hash yestahday."
Next, Jerry Nolan. "I'm thankful fer babes and smack! Ha! Take that David!"
David rolled his eyes, but said nothing.
On to Johnny Rotten. "I'm thankful that soon this'll all be over, and then I can go home and sleep," he griped harshly. No one objected.
Next Mick:
"'m not eatin' it," he said bluntly.
Nancy blinked. "What?"
"'m not eatin' it," he repeated. "I'm not gonna eat turkey."
He folded his arms across his chest. Nancy opened and closed her mouth several times before acctually speaking. "B-b-but why?"
"I'm a vegetarian," he replied. "I won't eat meat."
"But... I made turkey!" Spungen protested.
"I don't care."
"I made it though!"
"I still don't care."
"You have to!"
"I'm not gonna!"
"Eat it!"
"Make me!"
Joe nudged Paul with his elbow playfully. "Hey, here we go again, hu?" he chuckled, cocking one eyebrow up.
"Yeah, looks like it," Paul agreed, looking on at the fireworks display, brought to you by Mick Jones and Nancy Spungen.
"You hafta eat it! It's a Christmas turkey!" Nancy continued to whine.
"Unless it's made of tofu, I won't touch the bloody thing."
"I don't even know what tofu is!" Nancy blurted. "You hafta eat it!"
"I told you, I won't fuckin' eat it!"
"Eat somethin' or get out!"
"'m not goin' anywhere!"
"But I-"
"'m thankful for 'mfetam'ns," Kurt spoke up suddenly. For a moment, everyone was quiet again, and he slipped into a semiconscious state.
Sid looked in Kurt's direction with notable interest "'ey, I was gonna say that!" he announced with what was meant to be a grin.
Then came a longer, much more awkward silence. After what was around twenty seconds, Joe spoke up.
"Y'know I brought a bag of carrots for 'im, just in case," he said sheepishly, holding up a plastic bag.
"Ooh, gimmie! I'm starved."
Joe tossed the bag to his accomplice from across the table.
As Mick began to nibble on a carrot stick, his bewildered companions continued to sit quietly, dumbfounded, all the while, the only sounds that were audible throughout the flat were muffled crunching noises.
Finally, it was Courtney who spoke:
"Why didn't you just give 'im the carrots in the first place?"
Joe shrugged. "Well, I wanted to see what would happen if I didn't," he muttered.
Before Courtney could reply, the front door burst open and in came Krist Novoselic. "Hey, sorry I'm late, I didn't feel like going, but I got hungry, and I didn't wanna make my own dinner more than I didn't wanna come, so I came."
"Hi Krist," Kurt greeted him weakly, speaking into the table where he had rested his head.
"Hey Kurt, Courtney- Ooh! Is that chicken?" Krist shed his coat and approached the poultry.
"That's a pretty big chicken," he mused, tearing off a wing.
"It's not a big chicken, it's a near-dwarfed turkey," Rotten grumbled in response.
"Hey wait! I wanned that wing!" Johnny (Thunders) protested, reaching his right hand up, as if attempting to pluck the wing from Novoselic's hands.
"Sorry," Krist shrugged, extracting the syringe and taking a bite. "You can have the needle."
"Sweet, gimmie it!" Johnny snatched the smack away and injected it immediately.
Johnny Rotten watched sceptically. "Now shouldn't ya clean the turkey off it b'fore you stick it in yer arm?"
"I dunno," Thunders replied, chucking the empty syringe over his shoulder.
"True genius at work, that is," Johnny mumbled sardonically, turning to Krist. "You realize you've created a monster, don't you?"
Novoselic simply shrugged. "Not really."
He finished off his turkey and dropped the bone on the floor. "Good chicken Nancy, see ya." And with that, he collected his jacket and left.
"But It's a turkey!" Nancy protested as the door slammed shut.
"Hey, I wanna needle!" Dee Dee announced, reaching for the poultry half-heartedly.
"I wannit!" Sid protested, standing up. Fortunately for Dee Dee, Sid was quite drunk, and he toppled over almost immediately. The smack loving Ramone, of course, was too far away from the fowl to touch it, and was much too lazy to move.
"Hey Joey, bring me a syringe," he requested, holding his hand out.
Joey shook his head. "You know what Monte said, no shootin' up on Christ's birthday."
"Wadda you care, yer a Jew!" Dee Dee whined. "Please? I wannit bad!" Dee Dee's lower lip quavered slightly. Joey remained unmoved.
"Sorry. Ain't my rule."
"But Jo-ey! I wan-nit!"
"Ev-er'un beh kuhr-et," Thunders interjected, swaying slightly. "I wanna go-ta getta...thing..."
And then he fell over.
"Goddamnit!" David groaned. "Now we gotta carry 'im home!"
"Ok, but this time I get the hands," Jerry demanded. "I don't wann'im ta' kick me again."
"Let's just carry 'im shoulder ta' shoulder," David muttered in reply.
"But then his feet get stuck in doors 'n' stuff. Remember last time?"
'Last time' referred to an instance several months passed, in which Johnny was indeed dragged along by David and Jerry, each supporting one side of the limp young musician, holding him up with their upper arms. Johnny's legs dangled behind him, and at one point, his right ankle wound up caught in a set of subway doors. Luckily, he remembered nothing, and he was told that he 'must have sprained it when he passed out.' From then on, he was carried 'stretcher style,' despite the extra work involved.
David groaned and rolled his eyes, but agreed. "Fine," he grummbled.
This was followed by a long awkward pause.
Of course, Dee Dee was the one to break it.
"Hey Joey, why'd ya even come 'ere anyways? Yer Jewish and nobody ac-shuly wann-ed to come to Nancy's stoopid pa-ty in da first place."
Joey shrugged. "I dunno. Mick's Jewish. Why'd 'e come?"
"I dunno," Mick echoed. "There was nuffin' better to do."
Silence. Then, suddenly, Nancy spoke up "...Hey! Everyone loves my Christmas parties!" She looked around the room for support. No one said a word.
"...Jerry?"
He shook his head.
"...Paul?"
He shook his head also.
Nancy turned to Johnny Rotten.
"...John?"
Johnny immediately burst into a fit of uncontrollable giggles, that lasted nearly a minute.
When the laughing subsided, Nancy continued to press him for support.
"Well?"
Johnny again began to laugh, but this time managed to choke out a stifled "Of course not."
The ends of Nancy's lips pointed downward into a frown. "Oh."
She looked around at her guests.
"What about Courtney?"
Courtney shook her head. "I came for free food," she responded bluntly.
"...Well Dee Dee why'd you come?"
"Fer Sid...or maybe I could get ya ta' bang me afterwards."
Nancy looked down at Sid, passed out and drooling on his empty plate.
She opened her mouth to say something, but then stopped. She pondered a moment, and suddenly burst out "Waita minute! I'm Jewish!"
She looked around grinning. "Does that change anything?"
"No," Courtney groaned, rolling her eyes. "C'mon Kurt, let's go home." She tapped Cobain on the shoulder. He stirred quietly and sat up, slumped in his chair.
"Hey yeah, let's blow. I bet 'A Christmas Story' started by now," Joe announced, and headed for the door.
"Oh yeah, almost forgot about that," Paul agreed, rising up to join his band mate.
Mick followed suit, and the three of them left without so much as a goodbye.
David turned to Jerry Nolan expectantly. "C'mon Jerry, let's get outa here b'fore Sleepin' Beauty here comes too."
"Right." And with that, they both rose, collected Johnny Thunders, and left.
"Hey Dee Dee," Joey looked to his intoxicated band mate. "Wanna go back 'n' get Arturo? We could all go see a movie or somethin'."
"Ok," the bassist replied, standing up. "I need someone ta walk me back home anyway. I'm too high ta' see straight." Joey got up and made for the door, followed by Dee Dee.
"Bye Nancy. Good party," Dee Dee said, stumbling forward. By this time Kurt and Courtney were out the door as well.
The only one left was Johnny Rotten.
Nancy frowned at him.
"...Want some chicken?" she offered meekly.
"It's a turkey," Johnny grummbled, and with that, stood up and departed, shoving his chair aside.
Nancy looked at her shoes in defeat. Yet another Christmas party. Failed.
She slowly sat back down, slumping in defeat.
She looked from her shoes, to Sid, who had begun to twitch slightly.
He was having his 'drug induced seizure' dream again.
Nancy sighed heavily and patted his head.
She continued to pat his head, and began to think, which she did rarely.
As she thought, an idea formed, and as an idea formed, it solidified, and brought a smile to Spungen's face. 'The greatest Christmas idea ever!' she thought gleefully.
"Yes!" she gasped, and hurried off into the kitchen, and returned later with a Sharpie marker.
With a napkin, she dabbed the drool from Sid's face and propped him up in his chair. She then uncapped the marker and inhaled deeply. Then, she set to work.
When she was through, Sid's face was decorated with a Hitler mustache, a monocle, a uni-brow, and on his left cheek, the words: 'Nancy Rulz' with the 'r' reversed. One of his teeth had also been blacked out.
"Best Christmas ever!" she smiled, capping the marker.
Then, suddenly, she heard singing, outside her window. Off key, and scratchy perhaps, but singing none the less. Nancy, dropped the marker and ran to her 2nd story window. She threw it open and stuck her head outside into the bitter night air, to behold all her party guests, standing in the street, singing at the top of their lungs. Even Krist was there, and Arturo Vega too! All singing together swaying in- well, not really in time, but, they were swaying, weren't they? Even Johnny Thunders was there, supported shoulder to shoulder by Jerry Nolan and David Jo.
All of them had gathered together to sing:

"Hark the herald angels sing
'Glory to the newborn King!
Peace on earth and mercy mild
God and sinners reconciled'
Joyful, all ye nations rise
Join the triumph of the skies
With the angelic host proclaim:
'Christ is born in Bethlehem'"

"Hey you guys!" Nancy called, waving her arm. Several of the carolers looked up at her.
"Are ya singing for me?"
Joe Strummer stopped singing a moment to respond. "Hu?"
"Are you guys singing for me?" Nancy repeated, cupping her hand around her mouth.
"What...? Oh, nope!"
"Then what are you singing for? Aren't you singing to show me the true meaning of Christmas?"
"Um, no, no. Arturo heard that these guys in Tennessee gathered in the street and sang carols fer a few hours, and eventually, their city payed 'em to stop!"
"How's that going for you?"
"Not so good!" Joe called back. "We think Joey might have hypothermia!"
"Oh. Can we come an' sing with you?"
"Who's 'we'?"
"What?"
"Who's we?"
"Sid 'n' me!" Nancy called back.
"Oh! Well um... Sid can come, I dunno about you."
"Can you ask Arturo if I can come?"
"Tell Sid he's welcome whenever he's ready!" Joe called up, and returned to his caroling.
"But I-"

"Born that man no more may die
Born to raise the sons of earth
Born to give them second birth
Hark! The herald angels sing
'Glory to the newborn King!'"

Nancy turned away from the window and pondered situation ethics for a moment wondering what the right thing to do was. She then decided to hell with the right thing, dumped a vase full of ice water and wilted flowers out the window at her friends, called the police and complained disturbance of the peace, got high, and went to sleep.


Merry Christmas to one and all,
To thin and fat, to short and tall,
So let us sing and dance about,
And shoot up smack 'till we pass out.

Hark the herald angels sing
"Glory to the newborn King
Peace on earth and mercy mild
God and sinners reconciled"

Hark! The herald angels sing
"Glory to Sid, the newborn King"