In the dusty, neon-lit hollow of Knowhere—a celestial city carved from the skull of a long-dead god—a bizarre melody rises. Bzermikitokolok and the Knowheremen, a band of colorful, prosthetic-clad aliens, stand amidst the industrial chaos, clutching strange artifacts from Earth they barely understand. As the first chords of their eccentric anthem ring out, Peter Quill stands frozen, his weary heart caught between the grief of a lost love and the bewildering joy of this alien tribute. Around him, the celestial marketplace hums with life: Nebula watches with her characteristic cold detachment, Drax and Mantis trade glances of earnest confusion, and Cosmo the Spacedog tilts her head at the joyous racket. Above them, the stars of the deep cosmos shimmer through the skull’s eye sockets, while below, the diverse denizens of this lawless outpost pause their labor to witness a holiday they cannot name, but whose spirit—as strange and distorted as a "flaming turtle-dove"—finally begins to take root in the dirt of the galaxy.

In the hollowed-out skull of a dead celestial, the neon veins of Knowhere pulse with a strange, new rhythm. The air is thick with the scent of ozone and industrial grease, but today, a festive flicker cuts through the gloom. Bzermikitokolok, his pale lavender skin glowing under the harsh stage lights and his fleshy head-crests swaying, steps to the mic with his jagged starship-metal guitar. Beside him, the Knowheremen strike a dissonant, joyous chord. Peter Quill stands in the shadows of the marketplace, his thumb hovering over his Zune, eyes misty as he watches this alien interpretation of his home. Nearby, Drax and Mantis watch with wide-eyed, earnest confusion, while Nebula leans against a rusted pipe, her mechanical eye scanning the crowd of scavengers who have paused their bartering to listen. Bzermikitokolok leans back, his double-jointed arms windmilling wildly as he sings:

"Out on the third planet closest to the sun There's a special celebration And it sounds quite fun A jolly old fellow brings toys to everyone On a holiday they call Christmas Now I'm not gonna lie It makes no sense to me But here's what Earthlings told me About this Christmas mystery Santa is a furry freak With epic super powers He flies to every human home In under fourteen hours He's a master burglar A pro at picking locks If you don't leave milk and cookies out He will put dung in your socks If you act nicely through the night And don't jump on your bed Santa comes with sugar plums And hurls them at your head But if you're on his naughty list He shoots missiles at your toes He might just roast your chestnuts With his powerful flamethrower Rein, rein, rein, rein, rein Deer, deer, deer, deer, deer I don't know what Christmas is But Christmastime is here He's compelled his creepy elves To do his every wish One sought to be a dentist Now he's sleeping with the fish Mrs. Claus, she works the pole Plans her man's demise Soon the elves will all rise up And stab out Santa's eyes Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho Earthlings are so weird I don't know what Christmas is But Christmastime is here Ho, ho, ho, ho, ho Earthlings are so weird I don't know what Christmas is But Christmastime is here What the heck's a turtle dove And who lit up that deer? I don't know what Christmas is But Christmastime is here I don't know what Christmas is But Christmastime is here Or maybe it's there Or it's somewhere I don't know, I don't know"