On the 12th day of Christmas,
My true loves got for me
Well…it doesn’t even matter?
All I want is them
And for them to stuff their partridge in my pear tree...
Pure and clean as fresh snow.
That is…until she met us.
Meet the 12 most eligible bachelors on the planet.
Self-made billionaires who trade in true love.
Packaged. Shipped. And sold.
Our bodies will ruin you for other men.
Yet no woman has ever tamed us.
No woman has ever gotten close.
We use them. Then lose them.
And now we’re going to show her how its done.
She thinks she’s going to conquer us.
Maybe she can tempt one. Tease the other.
But all 12 of us?
We’ll drive her to drink instead.
And what she gonna be drinking?
Just a hint...it ain’t no egg nog.