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Authors: Santa Responds: He's Had Enough.and He's Writing Back!

Tags: #General, #Literary Collections, #Humor, #Topic, #Religion, #Letters

Santa Claus (6 page)

BOOK: Santa Claus
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At age 9 you should know how to phrase your requests more precisely.
 
Ask and ye shall receive!
 
 
SANTA
Dear Santa,
Hi! I want a puppy for Christmas. How do your elves make gifts? I hope I have been a good boy. I love my parents. Do you? Please come to my house. Do you like puppys? I hope I can see you!
You friend,
Henry Sellers
Dear Henry,
 
What an unusual question. Do I love my parents? To be honest, I really hadn't thought of them in years. Most people assume I'm an orphan thanks to the efforts of a publicity agency I hired back in the 1950's. They suggested going with the whole orphan thing as a way of mythologizing my past and creating an aura of mystery about my origins. The truth is that I did have parents. From an early age they trained me in the art of toy making. But did they ever let me play with the toys I created? No. They made me give them all away. Did it make me bitter? You bet. Did I take on the role of toymaker to the world in an attempt to win the favor of two nasty parents who ultimately would never be satisfied no matter how many toys I made and gave away?
Now that I finally look at it that way, I see that what I've been doing is merely an attempt to gain the love of parents whose love was never attainable in the first place. There's no point in me making and delivering all of these toys. I see that now. Finally, I'm free of this onerous task. And I owe it all to you, Henry.
 
 
 
Free at last,
SANTA
PS: Whenever children ask me why I no longer bring them toys, I'll say it's all thanks to Henry Sellers of Evanston, Illinois.
Dear Santa,
I would like an iPod, MP3
 
player, 50 movies, and a
 
Nintendo PS Lite. I also
 
want a Game Cube. How do your reindeer fly?
 
Sincerely,
 
Adelina Forte
Dear Adelina,
 
My reindeer are able to fly because their muscles haven't atrophied from the inaction that comes from spending all of one's time on one's ass playing video games, listening to music and watching 50 movies. Maybe you should ask for some presents that require a little physical activity. It may do wonders in staving off the diabetes that will strike you at fourteen, and the heart attack that will bring you down at twenty. Laying off the donuts might help, too.
 
 
 
It's never too late,
COACH SANTA
Dear Santa,
I would like a tender Electric suitar Laptop and Cellphone for Christmas. and in school I would like good grades in science + a little more freedom at home. from,
Emily not Emma
P.S. Jell Roudolph I said “Hi!”
Dear Emily not Emma,
 
As far as I know, Fender doesn't make an Electric Guitar Laptop, although it does sound like something I would like for myself if they do decide to produce one. Similarly, they also don't produce a cell phone, so I'm afraid you're shit-out-of-luck on those requests. If Rudolph existed, he might tell me that you meant to put a comma after the word Guitar, which would have given a whole new meaning to your wish list. But he doesn't exist. Sorry.
That brings us to your next request: good grades in science. Since science is increasingly irrelevant in your country, I'm not sure why you care. Your public schools have never exactly been on the cutting edge of science to begin with, and since they've eliminated everything from the curriculum that offends the various pinheads in your community, I think the only lessons left in your science books involve photosynthesis and gravity—although I suspect gravity will soon be dropped as well. Get it? Gravity…dropped! Oh, never mind.
As for your final wish for more freedom at home, good luck with that one. Your parents feel that keeping you a virtual prisoner will prevent you from becoming pregnant as a teenager. Of course, if they bothered to teach you any sex education, you'd be aware that the neighbor boy's attempt to give you a friendly “inoculation” against liberalism when you're fourteen will ultimately do nothing to actually save you from the welfare state.
 
 
 
Don't know much about biology,
SANTA
DEAR SANTA CLAUS,
IN THE SONG “I SAW MOMMY KISSING SANTA CLAUS” DO YOU REALLY KISS MY MOM? AND THANKS FOR EVERYTHING LAST YEAR. THIS YEAR I REALLY DON'T CARE ABOUT THE PRESENTS I GET. I CARE ABOUT THE PRESENTS I GIVE. BY THE WAY HAVE A MERRY CHRISTMAS, AND A HAPPY NEW YEAR.
FROM,
LUCAS, 8 AND A QRTER
Dear Lucas,
 
I'm often asked this question, to which I usually reply: If I only had the time!
You'll get that in about ten years.
In the meantime, it's letters like yours that make me grateful that I can see within your heart. I often get letters from calculating little shits who feed me lines like “I only care about the presents I give” like so many beauty pageant contestants, and if I wasn't able to see the truth it would leave me in a difficult position. But I can see your sentiments are genuine, and it does warm my heart. I'll be bringing you a Game Cube and Wii this year, and I hope you have a ball with them.
And if I were to kiss anybody's mommy it would be yours.
 
 
 
Rrrawr!
SANTA
DEAR SANTA,
How's THE NORTH POLE? IS RUDOLPH'S NOSE STILL SHINING? I HEARD THAT DANCER HAD THE FLU AND I HOPE THE ELVES TOOK GOOD CARE OF HIM So THAT HE IS ALL BETTER BY CHRISTMAS EVE.
I HOPE I AM ON YOUR NICE LIST THIS YEAR. I KNOW THAT I PULLED MY SISTER'S HAIR A FEW TIMES AND ATE CANDY WHEN MOMMY WASN'T LOOKING, BUT I THINK BESIDES THAT I'VE BEEN PRETTY GOOD. BESIDES, BENJAMIN FROM MY CLASS IS ALWAYS PUSHING BOYS ON THE PLAYGROUND AND EVERY CHRISTMAS HE GETS LOTS OF PRESENTS FROM YOU, So I THINK I SHOULD GET SOME PRESENTS, RIGHT?
I REALLY, REALLY, REALLY WANT A NEW PUPPY. I KNOW THAT MOMMY THINKS I AM NOT GOING To WALK IT ENOUGH BUT I SWEAR I WILL. MY NEIGHBOR, JOSH, ALWAYS PLAYS WITH HIS DOG IN HIS FRONT YARD AND I THINK IT LOOKS LIKE FUN. PLUS I WALKED BY THE PET STORE YESTERDAY AND SAW LOTS OF PUPPIES IN THE WINDOW, AND THEN MY TEACHER TOLD US ALL ABOUT THE DOGS IN THE POUND WHO NEED To BE ADOPTED. I WOULD GIVE THE PUPPY A GOOD HOME (I WANT A GOLDEN RETRIEVER, BUT A BEAGLE WOULD BE OKAY Too.) THANKS SANTA. LOOK OUT For SOME GINGERBREAD COOKIES AT MY HOUSE THIS YEAR. THEY'RE MY FAVORITE So I'LL SAVE A FEW For YOU.
FROM,
TRISTAN
Dear Tristan,
 
It's really quite clever how you open your letter with some small talk, and then subtly slip in some minor transgressions as a distraction from the truly awful things you've done this year. Does “the pogo stick incident” ring a bell? Sadly, this tendency will serve you well when you make your entry into politics in your late twenties—much to the misfortune of the idiots who elect you. However, the attempt to further bolster your case by calling out the misdeeds of your class-mates is just piling it on too thick. Benjamin's aggression is merely a conduit for the latent homosexual tendencies that he has yet to even begin to understand. Not that it's any of your business.
After preparing your case in the most manipulative way possible, you finally reveal that what you want more than anything is a puppy. You claim you'd be happy with a dog from the pound. Well, I'll tell you right now, you're not going to be finding any Beagles or Golden Retrievers at your local shelter. What you'll find there are mutts. They're more loving, and definitely more intelligent than any purebreds, but the truth is that doesn't really matter to you. In the superficial manner that will sadly serve you well throughout your life, the most important thing to you is appearance. The mutt that you are going to receive this Christmas will be loving and loyal right up to the moment three months later when your parents return it to the shelter because you've rejected it. A week later it will be put to sleep. I truly hope you rot in hell.
 
Jingle All the Way!
 
SANTA
Dear Santa
How come you so fat?
Love,
Ashton, aged 8
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