Christmas is always a traumatic time. Every year, I make myself my favorite thing: a big figgy pudding.

But then these people show up at the door, hammering, yelling, making a god-awful noise, demanding figgy pudding. "Bring us some figgy pudding! Bring us some figgy pudding! Bring it out here!" I tell them to go away, to leave me alone, but they keep on, "We won't go until we get some!" In the end, I always have to give them the damn figgy pudding just to make them shut up and go away.