Hello, Children. Are you all tucked in nicely? Good. And have you been good boys and girls this year? Because you all know what season it is, don't you? That's right. It's Christmas and time for a visit from dear Old El Santo Claus. . .
'Twas The Night Before Christmas, when all through the shire
Not a creature was stirring, not even a vampire;
The wrestling masks were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that dear Santo soon would be there;
The wrestlers were nestled all snug in the beds,
While visions of luchadoras danced in their heads;
Lorena Velazquez in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap,
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,
When up in the ring there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
With a little old sports car, its chrome all a-glow,
I knew in a moment it must be Santo.
More rapid than eagles his monster foes came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
"Now, Hija de Frankenstein! now, mummies of Guanajuato!
On, La Llorona! on, el Hombre Lobo!
Then El Santo exclaimed ere he drove out of sight:
"Feliz Navidad to all, and to all a good monster fight!"