😈 ​The Ugly Christmas Sweater Contest

SPONSORED

This week’s ad slot was purchased by friend of Foofaraw, Evan Passero, in support of the Denton Community Food Center—providing emergency food assistance from a central community storehouse to needy families and individuals in the City of Denton and Northern Denton County struggling with hunger insecurity.

Foofaraw will match up to $300 in donations to DIFFA Dallas, Elevated Access, and Denton Community Food Center through the remainder of 2025.

Donate now

Assembled with my church group, we displayed our sweaters to the judges. I would do anything to win this year’s competition.

Prudence grinned, pointing to the monstrosity she wore. “I knitted this myself.”

The sweater was made from tinsel and garlands. She plugged herself into an outlet, and the judges nodded, impressed by the lights.

“This one has a true connection with god,” one judge said.

That wasn’t true! I was the only one in conversation with our lord and savior. They would see.

I don’t know who told Ezekiel to short the electricity. It must have been Satan. From what I hear, Prudence is recovering in the hospital.

Next, it was time to judge Matthew’s sweater.

“The feline effigy on my sweater is one hundred percent cat hair,” Matthew said. “The rest is dog hair and—”

“Achoo!” said one of the judges, cutting him off.

I didn’t need to worry about him as competition.

Constance, that overachiever, had woven hers from organic pine needles and naturally-sourced bark. Ornaments made from free-range squirrels decorated her sweater.

I wasn’t the one who told Luke to light a match next to the dried needles. It must have been Satan.

The dark lord also influenced Constance’s burnt hands to dust the broken shards of candy canes coating Luke’s sweater with powdered California Reaper hot peppers. The judges probably would have been safe, but Luke boasted his sweater was “lickable” before Constance’s revenge.

After the judges put out the fires in their mouths, they moved on to the next contestant. Ezekiel was wearing a robe. He threw it off as the judges approached—nothing underneath.

This year, he at least attempted a “sweater” by knitting his abundance of chest hair into the word “Babe.” They didn’t disqualify him, but I could tell from the shakes of their heads they found his antics annoying after the fifth year in a row of showing up without a real sweater.

At last, it was my turn to show off my masterpiece. As the contest had been judged, my sweater had grown longer. With the blessings of my dark lord and savior, it now dragged on the ground.

A judge ran her hand over the black wool. “Is this mohair or cashmere?”

I was impressed she knew her goats. “Neither. I knitted it from Satan himself. Every time someone sins, he adds another row. That’s why it’s soooo long.”

“I see. Sinning is winning?” my pastor asked with a chuckle. “Were you the one who influenced Ezekiel to short the electricity and ruin Prudence’s sweater? And you told Luke to light Constance’s sweater on fire?”

“And dust those candy canes with hot peppers?” the pastor’s wife asked with admiration.

“I cannot take credit for those deeds,” I said humbly. “Those were influenced by Satan himself.”

“Ahem,” Ezekiel strutted over, running a hand over his knitted chest hair. “Actually, Satan needed a little help.” He winked at the pastor. “I was the one who whispered in Luke’s ear, gave Constance the California Reaper peppers, and shorted the electricity to set Prudence on fire.”

The judges turned to Ezekiel.

“That was absolutely diabolical,” one of the judges said.

“We’ve found our winner!” the pastor said.

I stared in horror. I had been outdone and out-Sataned by Ezekiel.

Once again, I had lost Our Lady Lilith’s Satanic Order’s Ugly Christmas Sweater Contest.

Then again, there was always next year.