The Life Explained Christmas Plagiarism Extravaganza Part D.

The god of Christmas Past opened the door, it swung with a complaining squeak, and scrambled out into the empty street, leaving the door hanging in the street. The hood opened as noisily as the door. There was some swearing, some vaporizer smoke, a little more swearing, while the car rocked gently from side to side.

"Hey, man, crank the key, would you?"

Eddie reached over and turned the key, the engine started with a small sigh of acceptance. While the god of Christmas Past was unhooking the portable battery charger a motorcycle  chopped way past the edge of safety, roared past, driving right through the open door, without disturbing the door, the motorcycle or the rider.

"Take that, fatman." the rider screamed as an empty bottle clanged off the hood. Eddie ducked, cringing into the passenger seat.

"I hate this dream," he said, to himself.

Slamming the hood down the god made an obscene gesture to the rider who had disappeared into the night. "I hate that guy," he muttered as he settled into the drivers seat, fastening his shoulder belt, and stowing the charger in the glove box.

"Who was it?" Eddie asked, pretending he had dropped something and was looking diligently for it instead of cowering in fear. While pretending to rummage around he noticed the carpet was filthy, covered in oil spots, with bare patches, and had a few large wads of gum stuck in places.

"The Tooth Fairy, he is all jacked up on sugar soda, and gum. And really steamed because he never gets a night off. I used to have that job, and let me tell you, it sucks, always on call, and since it is always night somewhere you never get a moment's peace. And the price of discarded teeth keeps climbing. But, the resale value is in the dumper, so it is impossible to make a living.

"I wouldn't wish that job on my worst enemy, but I am glad that guy has it, he is dip wad, of unbelievable proportions. I hate that guy. It would be fine if he were transferred to one of Santa's Stable Elves. Shoveling a little reindeer poo would do him some good." Said the god of Christmas past while reaching into the back seat and grabbing an energy drink from cooler.

"Do you want one of these?" He asked, showing Eddie the can, Multi Year Monstrous Energy Drink (for when you are visited by otherworldly beings) Rainbow Flavor the can read. "Regulations say I have to offer you one, and it ain't half bad, maybe three quarters bad," he laughed.

"No, I think I'm going to be sick." Eddie said, trying to wipe the carpet gunk from his hand onto the seat.

"Suit yourself, human," he said, while a giant, slippered foot stomped down on the accelerator, causing the car to rocket into a light filled void that threatened to suck the insides of Eddie's body out through his ears.