Our entire lives we’ve had the spirit of Christmas shoved down our collective gullet. Whether it’s Burl Ives and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer or the holiday stylings of Nat King Cole, it’s always about candy canes and trees and bunker-bustering our finances to make this the greatest Christmas ever!

Well, it’s time to draw a line in the snow, folks. Festivus was onto something, and we shan’t let it die like Phoebe Cates’ pops in the chimney from The Gremlins. Too soon…?

Forget idealistic nonsense like the Twelve Days of Christmas, make it legitimately fun. And a little creepy and weird. Which, if you’re reading this, I’m sure you are already at peace with.

How ’bout the Twelve Days of The ‘Burbs? Why the hell not? Dick Miller, who portrayed the garbage man who wanted to lay his hands on Roselli Plumbing at the local bowling alley was born on Christmas Day in the year of our Lord Nineteen-hundred and twenty-eight. So by not celebrating The ‘Burbs, we’re basically telling one of the greatest character actors who ever walked the planet that we despise him.

Not only do we not despise Dick Miller, we won’t tolerate any nogged-up disparagement, either. So hop in the sleigh. It’s happening.

Beginning Saturday, the countdown will sit at twelve, indicating that it’s time to shove off. Let me walk you through it…

1st Day of ‘The Burbs: Roll The ‘Burbs at breakfast and do your very best to out-eat Rick Duccomun. You’ll either throw up or pass out, but either way, you have a story to tell for the rest of the holiday season. For you rules sticklers out there — pineapple optional.

2nd Day of the The ‘Burbs: Tell the wife (or special lady friend) that you want to cuddle up and watch a movie. What woman would pass up such an invitation? Then you loop all the scenes with Carrie Fisher, not as Carol Peterson, but Princess Leia in that skimpy swimsuit from Return of the Jedi until she either gets the hint and blows your Death Star or she walks out of the room saying she refuses until you resemble the man that she married. Remember to wait two beats, then offer “We don’t have that kind of time.”

3rd Day of The ‘Burbs: Offer to take your grandparents out for a nice meal followed by some last-minute Christmas shopping. Wander off to give them some time to sift through potential stocking stuffers, wait until they’re in an aisle with a store employee, then stalk up behind them and without grabbing their attention, simply scold “Do you want to take that out of your pocket? Do you wanna NOT steal that from this store?” Walk away. Don’t forget to mumble “It’s a shit store, anyway.”

4th Day of The ‘Burbs: Anyone who doesn’t have a soft spot for Corey Feldman has never had a shred of affinity for ’80s cinema. I mean, The Goonies, Stand By Me, of course Ricky Butler from The ‘Burbs, but also the most famous Tommy Jarvis turn in the Friday the 13th saga. Turn down the lights, let The Final Chapter fly and hope that your drunk uncle doesn’t shave his head and bludgeon your aunt as he spouts “Die!”

5th Day of The ‘Burbs: Not gonna lie to you, this one will be uneventful, but much like your child-like belief in Santa Claus, have faith that it will have a distinct payoff in the morrow. Simply load up the trunk of your car with a trash bag filled with as many sacks of potatoes it can withstand without rupturing. Ease on up to the end of the driveway. Hulk it over to the bin, take a sketchy look around the neighborhood, then bang the hell out of with a stick. Back into the garage.

6th Day of The ‘Burbs: To be fair, the 5th Day set the table for the halfway point, but you gotta take your balls out of your wife’s purse on this one. This day may not be for all of you, but if you’re a die hard, I’m guessing you’ll appreciate it. Wait for the garbage truck to show, then burst forth from your home in flip-flops and half-shaved rocking only a camouflage bath robe and a pair of boxers from the Bill Clinton collection. Energetically ask whether they’ve found a bag in there that’s heavy and a little moist. I can’t promise you’ll avoid a conversation with a cop or licensed therapist, but at the end of the day, you’ll look back with pride knowing you done that for you.

7th Day of The ‘Burbs: Take the kids to the local sled hill, but make a pit stop at Radio Shack along the way. Scoop up a pair of walkie-talkies but before the rug rats sprint out of the car, turn back to them and in no uncertain terms let the tikes know that if any of them jump the gun on the “Red rover, red rover, let Mikey go on over” even once, Christmas is cancelled.

8th Day of The ‘Burbs: Invite yourself over for a nice, neighborly chat with some folks you have hardly spoken to. Be sure to take a plate of brownies — whether you drop them on the way or add some zest by making them magic disco brownies is your call. Godspeed. You cannot leave, though, until you have not only said, but organically worked into the conversation “These old houses gotta be hell to heat, huh?” Then be sure to leave a note on the coffee table that reads “I have your dog.”

9th Day of The ‘Burbs: To ensure those few words exchanged with your neighbors remain the only ones ever uttered, and that they’ll probably scurry into the house whenever they see you come outside, follow this next simple but effective step. Get a few of your friends together for some caroling. Now, these shouldn’t be pals of the upstanding variety. Nay, think more raucous collegiate friends. The kind who have no problem telling people they just met that you scrapbook. Trust me, they’re ideal. Grab some blank pieces of paper to serve as sheet music, then go door-to-door belting out…

[youtube id=”57Z2SxEuuQ0″ align=”center” mode=”normal” autoplay=”no” parameters=”https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=57Z2SxEuuQ0″]

10th Day of The ‘Burbs: Before the fam pours into the house for the home stretch, invite some of your closest (and more upstanding) friends over for some champagne and conversation. The key though is to have just two hors d’oeuvres — a bowl of pretzels and a tin of sardines. Dill, mustard or olive oil — your call. Personally, I’d go mustard, but like I stated earlier, this is your Twelve Days of The ‘Burbs. Follow your heart. Once you’ve set the mood, make your way around the room with a straight face and waving the tin just below their noses to offer a hint of aroma, offering — “Sari-deen?”

11th Day of The ‘Burbs: If you’ve made it this far, you’ve likely wrapped up your holiday shopping, the family is all together and nothing could but a damper on the warm fuzzies of Christmas Eve. But you’ve got to be able to say you tried. Sit down for breakfast and ask your sibling of choice to toss you the newspaper. Intentionally let it drill you in the sternum so you can launch the Sanka from your coffee mug across the table. Shots fired, yes, but think of how much more everyone will appreciate kith and kin after the bleeding has stopped.

12th Day of The ‘Burbs: This may take a bit of time, but by now, you’re likely looking for a way to duck out on the festivities. Just keep your orbs peeled for the first am-dram elfing his way out to the car for that evening’s local theatre Christmas performance. Open your front door, shout “Hey Pinocchio, where are YOU goin’?!” Once you can say you peered into his soul and saw dread, engage in a dead sprint, then lay waste like you were eighteen months in the bush.

So have we convinced you to abandon the antiquated, and frankly, cliché Twelve Days of Christmas for a near fortnight of ‘Burbs shenanigans?

If so, pull up Joe Dante’s cult classic on Netflix’s Instant Watch and celebrate Dick Miller’s upcoming 86th birthday in style.

Besides, I want you to keep an eye on the neighborhood for me.