At least, it will prevail if the management of the supermarkets I visit has anything to do with it. Why are shops so insistent that Christmas songs have to be sung at a snail-like pace, in tones so syrupy they'd rot the Kandyman's teeth, and played on an inescapable loop? It's probably a good thing I don't have a working sonic screwdriver, or their PA systems would have lost a lot of their loudspeakers.
(While I'm thinking of The Happiness Patrol: If it was done today, I'm not sure who'd be worth caricaturing as the Helen A figure, but the Kandyman ought to be as close to Ronald McDonald as the BBC could get away with. And be the happy, smiling face of the regime's propaganda, as well as its psychotic executioner.)