Twas the night before Christmas, and all across the world; the hopes and dreams of every good boy and girl, now lied in peril as Saint Nicholas hurled. He was sick to his stomach and in no condition to drive, his head in a toilet, he even felt as if he was going to die. Gallons of Eggnog, cookies, and milk were returning to sender, and poor old Santa Claus was most definitely regretting his all night bender. 

He needed a replacement and he needed one fast. Someone with skill and someone with class. Someone unafraid to take the reigns of his sleigh, and to go ten-tenths all night long to save the day.  In truth there was only one person who he could call, the undisputed fastest of them all. The Queen of the Machine, and the Ghost of Speedway's past. The raven haired heroine who even outran the Grim Reaper's boney ass. 

Hooking her Maserati to the sleigh, she smiled with glee. The reindeer would get the night off too, so it seemed. Dressed in her usual red, but with a more festive flavor, McClaire hopped in the birdcage and woke the elves from their slumber. The V12 bellowed and roared, the tires screeched and they shout. But soon the sleigh was picking up speed, without a doubt. The car hit the ramp and lifted off into the sky, and Stephanie McClaire and her Maserati suddenly learned how to fly.

The snow was coming down heavy as the world fell into a slumber. Only the wail of a tortured engine echoed in the distance like thunder. Rifling through the gears as she raced through the sky, the presents arrived one by one at the foot of the tree,  just in the nick of time. 

Some dolls for little Susie, and a train set or two. A Nintendo switch painted lovingly in blue. A poster for Johnny, some new shoes for Dad, and for Momma, a nice trip to the salon was to be had. 

McClaire couldn't help but put her own spin on things too, so along with the presents, she sent down a present just for you. “A Gift from a Road Racer” it said proudly on the box. A small coin of gold she may or may not have stolen from Fort Knox…

As the sun began to rise, the morning of Christmas day, the Badass Birdcage touched down in the north pole with the now empty sleigh. Having raced around the world, making nothing short of record time, even McClaire was impressed given her usual nine to five. 

As the families of the world awoke to gifts under the tree, the miracle of Christmas became obvious to thee. To love one another is what God asked us to do, and so this Christmas, may I ask that of you? 

From the birth of Christ, to the gifts of Saint Nick. The love and affection you feel even when someone is being a dick. Comradery is the key and kindness the trick. So may your Christmas be merry, and your racing car be sick!