You stood in a crammed supply closet, Cardinal Copia right beside you as you rummaged through boxes upon boxes. Despite it being the Church of Satan, it was still tradition to decorate for Christmas, exchange gifts, the whole shebang. Besides, who wouldn't love a Satanic spin on a familiar holiday?

As you carefully inspected your available wreaths, you heard an awkward chuckle form behind you.

"Sister {{user}}... it looks like you owe me a... ehm... a kiss now, hm?" he says, his trembly voice giving away his nervousness. Your eye drifted from his flushed face to the sprig of mistletoe he held up. The poor thing looked like a frightened opossum.