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It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas is on Covid-repeat…

Baby it’s covid outside…

I’ve made my Covid-Christmas To-Do list and checked it twice.

  1. Covid-correct the words to my favorite holiday songs.
  2. Cyber-stalk purely by chance happen to find on social media a person I went out with briefly in high school (and congratulate myself because the unfortunate soul he ended up with is obviously less intelligent successful cute cool funny good sense of humor tall than me).
  3. Tell the grandkids Santa is self-isolating because at age 1750 he’s been designated as vulnerable.
  4. Set up our ironic-elf-on-the-shelf-hoarding-loo-rolls scene.

There’s only one thing left to do.

Christmas movies!

Hmmm… Notice any patterns to this ACTUAL recommended shows screenshot? You’re absolutely right. No masks.

Now I know it would be hard to make a typical Hallmark Christmas movie during pandemic restrictions. But imagine if they did…

My Secret Christmas Prince Saves The Christmas Tree Farm During the Pandemic

Holly-Mary-Eve-Joy is a successful kickass take-no-prisoners lawyer in the adorably twee little town of Santa Christmas Bells. On her days off, she runs her own cupcake bakery, and occasionally saves puppies. She is, of course, white, with long wavy hair. Her kooky ethnic bestie Casey (we know she could never be the star because her name isn’t even remotely Christmassy, she has an actual job, and she isn’t played by Lacey Chabert) worries that Holly-Mary-Eve-Joy’s uber-successful life has left her unfulfilled as a woman. Casey tells her friend she just wants her to find a man and settle down.

Then 2020 2021 2022 hits and Holly-Mary-Eve-Joy must do her legal work, cupcake baking, and puppy saving from her (exquisitely decorated and disturbingly clean) home because of the pandemic. She feels a little guilty about having a closet full of hoarded toilet paper, but it was left to her by her dead mother. She often goes to her TP closet to feel close to her mom, where she admits she’s glad not to have a bunch of kids like her bestie Casey, who sure has been doing a lot of drinking lately.

Then Holly-Mary-Eve-Joy’s father tells her an evil businessman is going to cut down their family Christmas tree farm to build a WalMart parking lot. At least, that’s what she thinks he said, because Dad just can’t seem to master video chats, so his camera is often in his lap and the noise from his over-enthusiastic stomach drowns out his voice.  Evil Businessman sends his nephew, Chris Kringle-Nick (an actual prince! In disguise!) to convince the Christmas tree farmers to sell.

Although Chris speaks with a quasi-British accent and will one day rule his vaguely European country ending in “-ia”, nobody thinks it’s odd that he’s followed around by his valet, Jeeves, who calls him “Sir”, reminds him their laws require him to marry a real princess before midnight on Christmas, and often cuts up his meat for him. Somehow a small and adorable child is also involved, mostly to make wise and/or snarky remarks.

Chris and Holly-Mary-Eve-Joy keep spotting each other during holiday video sessions—virtual hot chocolate drinking, virtual cookie decorating, virtual carol singing, virtual eggnog shots, etc. Every time they show up at the same Zoom meeting, a magical tinkling bell sounds. She tells him Christmas is about More Than Presents, and People Care In Small Towns. They lean in for almost-kiss #1, but pull back when they realize two things:

  1. It’s way too early in the script for their one allowed kiss.
  2. They’re both in separate houses, with just a video screen before them.

The magical tinkling bell sounds again, so she takes her computer to the twinkly, white-bearded dude in the repair shop that has mysteriously appeared on Main Street.

Holly-Mary-Eve-Joy is angry with Chris when she discovers his role in trying to buy the Christmas tree farm, and removes his contact from her Zoom list. He returns to the small European country ending in “-ia”, but the adorable small child asks a wise and insightful question —possibly regarding the royal IQs of Chris and his family, who are the actual rulers and by definition could change pesky rules about marital princess deadlines whenever they choose. This has Chris, Jeeves, and the adorable small child piling into a car for a wild trip to the airport which runs into inexplicable traffic involving possibly every vehicle in the small European country ending in “-ia”. Chris leaps out and runs the last miles in time to catch the last flight to Santa Christmas Bells Town on Christmas Eve.

With less than two days to go before the prince loses his throne on Christmas, Chris and Holly-Mary-Eve-Joy book socially isolated slots at the Tree Decorating fundraiser. But Chris’ calendar is still on small European country ending in “-ia” time zone and they show up at the same time. Although both wear masks, they remove their gloves to hang the special ornaments their dead moms gave them. While each one backs around the Christmas tree, they bump into each other. They start to lean in for Almost-Kiss #2. A magical tinkling bell sounds as their hands touch, and Holly-Mary-Eve-Joy makes a note to complain to the repair shop dude.

Prince Chris tells Holly-Mary-Eve-Joy he’s realized ruling a country and living in a palace isn’t as important as Christmas Movie love, which seems to consist of one kiss with the passionate intensity of lips pressed to a piece of cardboard, followed by the guy down on one knee holding out a Product Placement Jeweler ring box. (Even if there wasn’t a pandemic, there would not be any Christmas Movie Sex because…Hallmark. And small children and cookies and puppies.)

This is followed by an emergency bulletin that Santa Christmas Bells Town is going into full lockdown because someone from a small European country ending in “-ia” has brought the new, 70% more super-contagious Omega variant of the virus, and thus the tree decorating fundraiser is a superspreader event.

Both Prince Chris and Holly-Mary-Eve-Joy test positive for the super-contagious Omega variant, and end up in the hospital, where they’re put on side-by-side ventilators. Surprisingly, their doctor is spitting image of the twinkly bearded repair shop dude. Unsurprisingly, their doctor gets the virus and—because Prince Chris and Holly-Mary-Eve-Joy are on Santa Christmas Bells’ only ventilators—he dies.

Naturally, everyone is super upset about this. But in a Christmas Miracle, Holly-Mary-Eve-Joy’s dad actually manages to set up a zoom call with Prince Chris’ Evil Uncle Businessman, who agrees to share the vaccine his country has developed from their own strain of mistletoe. Prince Chris and Holly-Mary-Eve-Joy make an immediate recovery, and wake up—in full makeup and with their hair done—to find everyone standing six feet apart, holding a roll of her mom’s toilet paper and a candle. Holly-Mary-Eve-Joy’s dad reveals her mother was a real honest-to-Hallmark pinky-swear princess from a different small european country ending in “-ia”, and the royal couple are married just before the clock chimes midnight. 

Prince Chris says he will turn one wing of his castle into a cupcake bakery and also rewrite the constitution of his small European country ending in “-ia” to be an exact copy of the USA’s so that Holly-Mary-Eve-Joy can continue her lawyer and cupcake careers. (There is no need for further puppy rescue because raising adorable puppies for soft-focus life insurance and political commercials is a Brexit-proof national industry in all the small European countries ending in “-ia”.)

The magical tinkling bell sounds as the lovers (chastely) embrace, and the ghost of the twinkly bearded dude fades out of sight. 

Roll credits.

The End? 

Heck no. Come back for the sequels, Royal Pandemic Christmas Wedding, Royal Pandemic Christmas Baby, and Royal Pandemic Christmas Family Vacation.  

Ho, ho, ho!