I always thought it was the excessive boozing that gave Santa the rosy cheeks.

Bad Santas

'Twas the night before Christmas,
When the silence was broken,
By what noise I had no notion.
To the window I crept to take a peak,
The source of the commotion I did seek.
And what did my staring eyes see?
The Santas were brawling, in a wild melee.
Punching and kicking, in a blur,
Of red cloth and fake fur.

This is what Black Santa gets you.

God Bless America.