Call me Yamhill

Final tinkering is under way here for Operation Snow Storm: Christmas Freedom. These brave little soldiers of the "Hammering 51st" may be shorton supplies, they may be short on armor and well, just plain short, but there's one thing ther're not short on, and that's a little thing I like to call Christmas spirit.
(Not "Holiday cheer," as the holidayists would have us call it.)
Yes, even now the jihad on Christmas escalates, as new reached this northermost outpost that anti-Christmas forces ahd kidnapped Frosty the Snowman early yesterday morning as he stood outside his home. And now comes the sad news that a shocking cideotape has surfaced that show the apparent meltin of Frosty at the hands of his captors. The tape is quite graphic and disturbing and ends only ofter the hapless snowman has been totally defrosted. Confirmation of Frosty's meltdown came early this morning when Santa's forces found the snowman's corncob pipe, his button nose and two lumps of cool in a limpid pool of ice water inside an abandoned igloo on the outskirts of town.
The lates blow come on the heels of yesterdays attack, when Santa's sleigh stuck an IED just south of here, slightly injuring two reindeer. That was followed by another attack, when an anti-Christmas terrorist was captured just outsie of the Red-and-Green zone with a fruitcake strapped to hi chest. Thankfully, he was caught just before he could attempt to splatter scores of Christmas carolers with his evil fruit-and-nut chuncks.
Amid the horrors of this bloody conflict, Santa's forces continue their search for WHD (Weapons of Holiday Decoration). As critics of the War on the War on Christmas like to point out, no WHD have yet to be found, but the Claus administration remains confident that they will be found.
And Santa's forces have been bracing for more Biolence as the Grinch's trial is st to begin next week. Some obserbers have speculated that the Grinch will use the trial to communicate with his supporteers for the first time since Santa's forces captured him, bearded and disheveled, hiding in a cramped penguin hole just outside of Nome.
It's getting hard to write now, as Santa's warsleighs begin taking off to drop bunker-busting packets of Figgy Pudding on Anti-Christmass forces.
Shock and Awa, Baby
Shock and Awa!
More latter.