Kris Kringle, Secret Santa, the Office Gift Exchange. This is dangerous territory, fraught with politics, heirarchical nonsense, petty personality conflicts and class struggles. What to buy? How much to spend? Why spend at all? Should your feelings toward a co-worker be reflected in your gift?

Office gift exchanges can turn the sweetest Tiny Tims into curmudgeonly Scrooges, but never fear: We’re here for you again. None of these gift suggestions are practical. You’d be a fool (and possibly on the job market in January) if you took our advice at face value.

No, these suggestions point to something more important than the gifts themselves. They speak to the spirit of the holidays that yawn before us.

—the editors

The technogeek

Nice—an iPhone.

Naughty—a book, with pages. Or a gift certificate so he can take his inexplicably hot girlfriend out to dinner. Or an abacus.

Really naughty—his very own Psychonauts DVD (This will bug him because he already has it.)

The manic-depressive

Nice—Prozac.

Naughty—Leaving Las Vegas DVD.

Really naughty—a weekend at Niagara Falls.

The constant borrower

Nice—any power tool.

Naughty—a bill for the last thing they borrowed.

Really naughty—the phone number of your neighborhood loanshark.

The hypochondriac

Nice—herbal teas.

Naughty—a placebo.

Really naughty—the real test results.

The know-it-all

Nice—exactly what they’d expect you to get them.

Naughty—an encyclopedia.

Really naughty—a muzzle.

The passive aggressor

Nice—tooth-whitening system.

Naughty—something clearly re-gifted, delivered with a big toothy smile. Or a “Denial is Not a River in Africa” bumper sticker. (Or both?)

Really naughty—nothing at all, but be “genuinely” concerned about it. Or maybe some steroids.

The miserable louse

Nice—any book by Dr. Phil. Or an account with an escort service.

Naughty—Optimism for Dummies. Or any book by Dr. Phil.

Really naughty—a lump of coal.

The pervert

Nice—a Playboy subscription.

Naughty—a copy of the Bible.

Really naughty—a framed picture of him with a goat.

The odiferous one

Nice—perfume or cologne. Or maybe a bottle of Febreeze.

Naughty—deodorant.

Really naughty—gas masks for everyone else at the office.

The guy with really bad breath

Nice—a box of minty candy.

Naughty—a bottle of Lavoris.

Really Naughty—a Glade air freshener necklace (the one with the fan).

The cheapskate

Nice—a bottle of Dom Perignon.

Naughty—a bottle of Ripple.

Really naughty—take them out for drinks and give them the bill.

The perky cheerleader

Nice—a Gray’s Anatomy calendar. Or a Christmas cake for the whole office to share.

Naughty—an office policy manual. Or a South Park calendar.

Really naughty—a basement cubicle. Right next to the office pervert.

The alcoholic

Nice—Gourmet coffee.

Naughty—A bottle of Wild Turkey.

Really naughty—A copy of James Frey’s A Million Little Pieces. Or a list of local AA meetings and a bottle of Wild Turkey. (Or all three?)

The sports fan

Nice—A John Madden alarm clock.

Naughty—A DVD of Buffalo ’66.

Really naughty—Tickets to the BPO.

The overly made-up secretary

Nice—A compact mirror with no makeup in it so she can check her look without being tempted to reapply.

Naughty—Designer Imposters perfume spray. Charlie would be good.

Really naughty—An anonymous bouquet of flowers.

She who covers for you when you take the day off

Nice—A copy of Chicken Soup for the Soul.

Naughty—A copy of Men Who Hate Women & the Women Who Love Them.

Really naughty—A slideshow of your vacation in Dollywood.

The music buff

Nice—a gift certificate to a record store.

Naughty—a stack of blank CDs for burning music.

Really naughty—Muzak: The Complete Collection.

The arts aficionado

Nice—a membership to Albright-Knox.

Naughty—a gift certificate to JoAnn Fabrics.

Really Naughty—Bills tickets.

The athlete

Nice—a box of energy bars.

Naughty—a pair of stiff, leather shoes.

Really Naughty—a comprehensive list of professional athletes’ salaries.

She always agrees to get something done…but never does

Nice—a deadline extension for the office gift exchange.

Naughty—an IOU.

Really Naughty—a pager.

The skinflint boss

Nice—a bottle of wine with a card thanking him for your job.

Naughty— Just a card thanking him for the opportunity to work for the organization.

Really naughty—“A Jewish carpenter is my boss” bumper sticker.

The gossip

Nice—a True Confessions subscription

Naughty—a pillow needlepointed with the phrase “Loose Lips Sink Ships.”

Really Naughty—start a vicious rumor about them and the skinflint boss.