Low-key here being an understatement.

The clock striking midnight and heralding the official day of Christmas was ignored by the two boys below it, so intent were they upon their task. Each had his specific role: One was the spotter, and the other, assassin. Together they had checked for the most stealthy way to go through the fortress, speed-killing every guard they came across and vaulting from poles with ease. The arrival of Christmas was beheld with nary a murmur, with only intermittent flashes of light where the prompt gave notice for the next move in a speed-kill. For all the fun old-style hacking and slashing gave one, doing it like a ninja really speeds up the level advancement.

So that's how we spent the first few minutes of Christmas: playing Prince of Persia on our dusty old Xbox. No countdown, no unwrapping of presents, no whoops of joy, no fireworks. Even the parents had turned in already.

For all of you who sent me the customary wishes via sms: Sorry, out of credit. Merry Christmas to you too.

And to all, a goodnight.