They pay me this kind of money to keep quiet.

I jingle and slide through the snow bringing joy to the night, but misstep my homophone, and it’s quite a fright. One lets you ride with Santa, all cozy and bright, The other- well, you definitely don’t want to do that alright?

Fun going to this kind of party and doing this from the mouth might mean rabies

Pop Secret or Act II In armies, I'm who you report back to. I'm a seed to consume Soldiers are who I groom I'm in a bag or a bowl Not a general, but high in my role I'm a flavor that's finger lickin A Sanders of Kentucky Fried Chicken What am I?

Jeff Spicoli learned: No me? No service!