Originally posted in 2006 or 2007 (can't remember which):
I take a lot of shit because I like the band Creed. People can be pretty cruel about it too. One person, who's name I won't mention, had the nerve to rip the head off of my Scott Stapp doll. That was really not necessary. I sewed it back on, but now I have to dress him in turtlenecks to cover up the stitches.
I think maybe people wouldn't be so hard on me if they knew what a hero Scott Stapp is. Therefore, I would like to take this opportunity to tell you the story of when Scott Stapp saved Christmas.
If you haven't already figured it out, Scott Stapp was the lead singer of Creed. Creed split up a few years ago, but, since then Stapp has launched a ridiculously successfull solo carreer.
The story begins in December of 1997. Creed's debut album, My Own Prison, was flying off the store shelves as it was the perfect stocking stuffer. Stapp and company were busy touring - sharing their unique new sound with America one city at a time.
Meanwhile, at Santa's workshop in Detroit, everybody was hard at work. The elves, of course, were busy surfing ebay for toys for all the good little boys and girls. Often times, as Christmas approaches, Santa's irritable bowel syndrome kicks into full gear, so he doesn't have a lot of time to micro-manage the elves. It was because of this that he hired Star Jones to supervise the elves in his absence. All of the elves loved Star and thought she was just swell.
Scott Stapp stood in front of a crowd of 73 adoring fands. "Hello, Cleveland!" he yelled into the microphone. The crowd roared. This show was actually taking place in Detroit, but the fans didn't seem to mind Scott's little snafu. Sure, he was piss ass drunk, but they understood that Scott needs his Miller High Life to work his magic. Seventeen minutes later, Creed was wrapping up their encore.
I cry out to God...Seeking only his decision...Gabriel stands and confirms...I've created my own PRISON!
It was December 22nd and this was Creed's last show of the year. Scott took a deep breath, and waved to the audience. "Goodnight, Dallas!" Then he went backstage. It was Miller time.
The next night, back at Santa's workshop, the elves were packing up Santa's sleigh with all the toys for the boys and girls. Star sang Christmas carols that the elves danced to as they loaded the sleigh. The elves adored Star's singing and thought she was just wonderful.
Santa lit a match and emerged from the lavatory. It was almost time. The sleigh would need to be prepped for the journey. Most people will tell you that Santa's sleigh and its reindeer are powered by the Christmas spirit of Children around the world. Most people are stupid. Santa's sleigh is powered by 93 octane gasoline. There's no such thing as reindeer.
Santa's most trusted elf, Gary Coleman, approched Santa.
"Sir, we have a problem," said Gary.
"What is it, Gary?"
"Gasoline is up to 4.50 a gallon and all of our credit cards are maxed out. We can't gas up the sleigh."
"Oh dear," replied Santa, "It looks like there isn't going to be a Christmas this year."
Scott was feeling lonely this holiday season. Sure, he has his 100's of adoring fans, but he was far from home - far from his friends and family. This was today's reason for him to wander the streets piss ass drunk (yesterday's reason was to go purchase some canned meat at the nearest 7-11). As he walked the streets of Detroit, he heard something.
"There sure are going to be a lot of sad boys and girls this year. I'll be in the can." he heard. It was coming from a peculiar looking building with very shiny Christmas decorations. Scott couldn't resist the extreme shiny-ness of the decorations so he entered the bulding. Once inside the building, he wandered for a bit until he bumped into Star Jones.
"Excuse me, darling," said Star.
Then, Scott threw up on Star. All of the elves watched in horror.
"Oh my, you poor thing," Star exclaimed. The elves were pleased to see that she was still as kind as ever - even after being puked on. They all thought Star Jones was pretty keen.
Then, Gary Coleman had an idea. "Hi, Stranger," he said "can you help us put gas in our sleigh? You could save Christmas!" Scott reached in his pocket, pulled something out and put it in Gary's hand. Gary looked down and was dissapointed to find an empty condom wrapper. "I guess not," Gary sighed.
"I blowed up the balloon too big and it essploded," replied Scott.
Santa, who was done going number two, eneterd the room and noticed Scott Stapp. "Scott Stapp!!!" screamed Santa, "I love your music! I love Creed! You guys rock!"
Scott's eyes lighted up. "The Easter Bunny!" he screamed.
"Uh, yeah," replied Santa. "Look, this is turning out to be a pretty lousy Christmas and It'd make me feel a bit better if I could hear some of your music. Would you honor us by singing some of your wonderful music?"
Although Scott wasn't quite as drunk as he usually got for a performance, he agreed...
Can you take me higher...To the place where blind men see...Can you take me higher...To the place with golden streets
Well I don't know if I'm ready...To be the man I have to be...I'll take a breath...take her by my side...We stand in awe...we've created life
Then something truly magical happened. Light flashed around Santa's sleigh. Slowly, it began to rise from the ground. It was being powered by magic - the magic of Creed.
"Keep singing!" shouted Santa.
Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one...Count down to the change in life that's soon to come
The covenant has been broken By mankind Living us with no shoulder...with no shoulder...To rest our head on...To rest our head on...To rest our head on
Children...dont stop dancing...Believe you can fly...Away...Away
Santa's sleigh was now a full 5 feet off the ground. It spun around 3 times and made a special whizzing sound. Santa, Star, Gary, and the elves knew that - thanks to the magic of Creed - the sleigh would fly. All of the boys and girls would get their presents after all.
"I don't know how to thank you, Mr. Stapp," said Santa.
The elves lifted Scott up on their shoulders. "Three cheers for Creed," they all shouted, "Hip, hip, HOORAY!"
Yes, Scott Stap saved Christmas that year. And it was the best Christmas the elves, Santa, Star Jones, and Gary Coleman had ever experienced.
So, the next time you want to critizie me for being president of the Creed fan club, remember this story. And listen to the deep, inspirational lyrics of Creed. They just might change your life.