My Birthing of Music and Christmas, by "Sleepy" Stanley Muckleberry

I’m so tired. Where do I begin? Okay, this is a story for the holidays. As a young boy I typically slept for sixteen hours a day. I spent an additional three to four hours sipping warm milk. With the remaining few hours sometimes I would leave the house though, and that’s how I started getting interested in music. You see there was this dance team/street gang that hung out on our block named Handsome David and the Gadgets. You could hear their snapping, tap dancing shoes, blades, and whistles from at least ten feet away. I always wore a duck coat so it was easy to spot me out.

One day, Leaf Nugsby, one of the Gadgets, let me borrow his old maraca. I thanked him so much and invited him over for a nap. After a good long nap, I buttered the week's biscuits and started playing with the maraca. It made noises which frightened me at first. I dropped it several times. But like they always say, if you drop something, pick it up and drop it again. I soon became not so afraid of the sounds. In fact, I started to sing words over them. This woke up my brother. It was the first time he'd been awake since the summer solstice. I hugged him and let him eat two of the week's biscuits. Carl scarfed down the biscuits and exclaimed, "Smack my butter lips, I'm exhausted! Smack my butter lips, I'm exhausted!"

And a hit was born.

I wouldn't smack anything but the maracas, and he kept saying it over and over, "Smack my butter lips, I'm exhausted!" until we found something that could almost be described as rhythm.

And a band was born.

After an exhausting nap, we went to the mall and Carl bought a brand new CASIO. It was too heavy to carry, so we opened it right there, and started playing. All the people rejoiced, thinking that we were the opening band for a man named Santa Claus.

Just then Santa arrived and was worried we were stealing his proverbial thunder so he released a hoard of wild badgers! They pummeled and pillaged the shoppers that had gathered earlier. "Your wishes for Christmas are ours now!" screeched the badgers.

"Stop," I said, "we have a hot jam that I think will remedy such a situation." I was very tired from saying such a difficult sentence and began to fall asleep. "Stanley, they need us. Push through brother!" begged Carl. With a brisk stroke of the number pad that held the beats within the casio of freedom, Carl began to drop a beat that captured the souls of all around us . Humphry, our forlorned and forgotten brother, had taken high ground and began shooting lighting bolts made of jelly sandwhiches at the feet of the badgers. Their pummeling subsided and the people rejoiced in our rhythms.

"THE PEOPLE HAVE SPOKEN!" Carl exclaimed. Just then, Santa came and liked our sleeping caps so much that he requested his elves make him one just like them that was red velvet.