Long ago in once apon a time, there was a evil Elvis ( like elves but have a tendency to sing and jiggle their hips at excited teenage girls) the Elvis had a masterplan to destroy Christmas once and for all, he was sick of working in Santa's toy worship making etchosketchers. Next year he would be rich and laying on a sun lounger rather than freezing his nipples off stuck in Santa's workshop, that mean old Santa won't even turn the heating up.
So the night before Christmas the young Elvis put in action his evil plan. Sneaking into Santa's sack he took out all the toys and listed them cheaply on eBay. In no time at all 90% of the world's Childrens toys had been snapped up by bargain hunters on the famous selling site and Elvis had 6.8 million in his paypal.
The sneaky Elvis booked himself a flight to las Vegas and packed his bag. He sneaked out and got a taxi to the airport where he sunk beers and chatted up the human ladies, they loved the cheeky little Elvis, if he had more time the naughty Elvis thought he could probably have had a quicky in the airport toilets with the drunk blonde one.
After a long flight the excited Elvis landed in Vegas he got a taxi to the strip and booked himself in to the luxor ( he had once been bored and spent 6 hours in the Lego brick section of Santa's toy factory building a Lego pyrimid so had always wanted to stay in one). As it was his first day he thought he would do a bit of sightseeing so set of down the street walking merrily along when all of a sudden he got hit by a mini bus full of Vegas showgirls. The scantily clad ladies all rushed to help the injured Elvis but alas it was to late, his injuries were sever and taking his last breaths he thought back to Santa's workshop and wished he had stayed there.
The end.