Why hello there kiddies! Do you know who this is? It's me, Santa Claus! Saint Nick! The Reindeer Rider! The Big Kahuna! Blues Traveler! Er, scratch that last one. Anyway, the reason I'm writing you today is because I want to inform you about some updates to my Christmas policies. I've never changed them once, but things have just gotten way too out of hand for me to tolerate any longer.
So kiddies, snuggle up to the fireplace, grab a nice cup of hot
chocolate, and listen up good. If you don't, Christmas for you
and your family is going to be quite grim this year.
Now, we've all heard how the song goes: "He knows when you've been sleeping. He knows when you're awake. He knows if you've been bad or good, so be good for goodness
sake!". Well, originally I wanted those song lyrics to be more along the lines of something you'd read on a Cannibal Corpse album, but Santa's
P.R. department ruled against it. Gutless pissants. The whole point of the song was to induce paranoia and fear into all you dirty
rotten kids. That way, the next time you thought about sexually abusing your neighbor's mailbox, you'd picture my jolly ass watching over you. For a while it worked, but we've just entered a new millenium and the song isn't getting nearly the kind of airplay that it used to... goddamned pop bands!
So in order to get my song back on the charts, I'm currently working on a remix of "Santa Claus is Coming to Town" with my homeboyz Master P. and Run DMC. We're adding some "phat" new beats to the song along with new lyrics. Here's an excerpt:
"You better not shout (BITCH!)
You better not cry (BITCH!)
You better not pout (BITCH!)
I'm tellin' you why (BITCH!)
Santa Claus is coming to town (BITCH!)"
Santa's upcoming remix album.
def, huh? I'm pretty sure this remixed version of the song will be much more effective on all of you stupid kids.
Next on my list of updates is the "sending letters to
Santa" policy. The update to this policy is pretty simple: Do
NOT send me letters you little shit stains! It sickens me to hear how some of you spoiled little bitches want me to bring you a new BMW, like I could carry that!? Plus, why do you deserve a shiny new BMW while some starving kids in Ethiopia write me to beg for a single grain of rice? I will decide what you do or do not deserve, got it? Besides, if I "know if you've been bad or good" like the song says, then there's a pretty damned good chance that I know what you want for Christmas don't ya think?
There's no need to write. The fact is, I don't really care what you want. All you've ever given me is stale cookies and expired milk that your cat pissed in. I don't owe you damned kids jack shit. So be happy that I don't bring you a barium enema for Christmas, you ungrateful little gift whores. And by the way, I don't even live at the North Pole. I have all my mail forwarded to me from there so you little bastards can't find out where I live in order to ransack my workshop and steal all my booze.
Another update is the sleigh policy. Fuck the sleigh. I'm tired of the reindeer complaining about their salaries. I'm tired of flying through sub-zero temperatures on a
sleigh without even a simple space-heater or decent cargo space. Santa and his reindeer are now going to be riding in style on their own private jet. And if your parents don't have a landing strip
lighted up for me in their backyards, well then, I'm just going to have to skip your house this year! So get to work on that pronto!
The last policy that I have decided to update is for how I will handle those of you who've been "naughty". In the past, if you were naughty, I would bring you a "lump of coal" instead of a gift that you wanted. A lump of coal. A LUMP O' FUCKIN COAL!? "Ooooooo, a lump of coal! We're so scared of you now, Santa! We promise we'll be good! Please oh please, don't bring us a lump of coal!" Jesus, what the hell was I thinking when I came up with that one? A lump of coal inspires about as much fear in the hearts of man as "JAWS 4" did. I must've been really fuckin' plastered when I decided on using that gem! Well, no longer will I be so
lenient with you naughty children.
Two kids learn about what's going to
happen to them for being naughty.
From now on, if you've been bad, I'm going to come to your house immediately. I'm going to set your parents on
fire and eat their charred remains. I'm going to feed your
siblings to my carnivorous reindeer. I'm going to hang your precious little pet "Fifi" from her own intestines. I'm going to
smear the walls in your room with my feces. Then I'm going to tear your clothes off, and crucify you naked out in front of your house with a sign that reads "TALIBAN RULES!" hanging from your neck. If your angry neighbors don't come to tear apart your near-lifeless body, the wonderful winter weather will do you in soon afterwards. So screw the "he knows if you've been bad or good, so be good for goodness sake" line. I'm simplifying it to, "Don't fuck with Santa".
So there you have it... Santa's updated Christmas policy. Obey Santa and you shall live. Disobey me and you shall die by my cold, drunken hands.
Ho Ho Ho and Merry Christmas Motherfuckers!