The Night Before Christmas

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, except for the big, fat, pissed-off Italian guy. The hat he wore was a veil; engulfing its wearers' face in shadow. Through the darkness that shrouded upon him, one could faintly make out the glaring eyes of a content murderer. A faint glow from the burning end of his cigar lit up his mouth, which scowled as if it were that of a bear woken from hibernation prematurely.