'Twas the night before Christmas.

'Twas the night before Christmas, and I had to work.

'Twas the night before Christmas...and two men living in a condo with no furniture, sleeping on the floor atop old comforters decided to get high. They filled one of the many syringes in the kitchen sitting next to the sink. They unwrapped their heroin, as if it were a gift from Santa, placed it on their bent spoon, mixed some vodka with it, put a flame underneath, and melted the two substances into one. They filled the syringe, tied off their arms, found a vein, slid the needle in - penetrating the oily, flushed skin, and shot that evil into their blood system. I imagine for a fleeting second it felt wonderful. Then, one vomitted into the sink. He became pale, sweaty, and slowed his breathing. He walked into the living/family/entertainment/bed room and collapsed. Not breathing. Overdosed. His high partner called 911.

'Twas the night before Christmas...and I had to work.

'Twas the night before Christmas...and everyone living in this apartment complex felt the need to go somewhere. A water main had broken, filling the already snow-engulfed parking lot with 3 feet of frezzing water. Cars with piles of snow on them sat inbetween the imagined yellow parking lines. Packed snow formed trails around the lot like a maze. Tonight, Christmas Eve, at 8:00 p.m. these people decided to try and move their cars so they could go somewhere. In this process, the one's not already stuck by the iced over snow drifts, flooded their cars with feezing city water. Someone, somewhere, decided to call 911. As this, to them, is an emergency. And due to the difficulty with the English language, 7 EMS vehicles were sent emergently to "parties trapped in a car, water rushing in". We found the source, as it wasn't that difficult to see the erupting flow of water from the ground, and informed them that they were not going anywhere, that they didn't need to go anywhere. It was Christmas Eve, stay home!

'Twas the night before Christmas...and I had to work.

'Twas the night before Christmas...and a father picked up his daughter from the state asylum so she could spend Christmas wit her family and experience "normal" life. As she sat in the packed, linoleumed bedroom watching gangster movies, she began to have another anxiety attack. Why? Because she left her room in the hospital, traveled 5 hours planning on spending a week, and never thought of bringing her anxiety meds. Hands cramped and lips pursed, she rapidly retained CO2 making her condition much worse. Her father, the elmo-slipper-clad construction worker had had enough. It's Christmas Eve, this isn't suppose to happen.

'Twas the night before Christmas...and I had to work.

'Twas the night before Christmas...and this family of 16 decided to get drunk. After being couped up in a 2 bedroom house, drinking a bunch of Milwaukee's Best and Mad Dog, tensions began to flare. The gangster in them all came out. Someone, somewhere, decided to call 911. The tough one, held a knife to his face and threatened to kill himslef. A wonderful gift on Christmas Eve, don't you think? He eventually cut his face, causing us to be summoned. We get there, with the cops, and the holiday spirit increases even more. Ni**a, this, Ni**a, that, he screams. He defends the honor of the one he was just threatening as we, the paramedics and the police, take him down into a snow bank and wrestle around to get his hands cuffed behind his back. He spits, he bites, and he cusses. We poke hime with a needle and inject a wonderfully calming fluid that slurs his words and eventually causes him to sleep. A fight on Christmas Eve, isn't that what it's all about?

'Twas the night before Christmas...and I'm glad it's over.

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