We Three Kings of Orient Express

In my rather irreligious household we forget all about the so-called "Baby Jesus" at Christmas, and we simply worship the Three Kings Bearing Gifts instead. We especially venerate the King who brings the gold because he is obviously the optimus maximus, the best and greatest of the three. The other two Kings, with their dubiously foreign spices, are merely semi-divine, somewhat lesser deities in our pantheon of Yuletide cheer. And finally, those miserable grubby shepherds who irresponsibly abandon the flocks they should be tending by night in order to follow some ridiculously over-sized star are, naturally, completely beneath contempt. Consequently, our decorative Nativity scene on the mantelpiece doesn't have many figures in it, since we don't much care for beggarly Mary and dreary Joseph either. To be honest, I should add that we've also disposed of that ugly stable with all the smelly animals in it, and we've replaced it with a sumptuously magical palace that looks much nicer. So, at the end of the day, I don't suppose you can really call it a decorative Nativity scene at all, really. In fact, it's more of a decorative decadent holiday binge scene, if you want to get pedantic about it. Not that anybody actually notices, obviously.