Thanks for your letter.
Let’s get something straight: You ain’t got the answers, Sarah.
I am the most feared personality in the world, in case you forgot. I’m fucking Santa Claus, Sarah. Santa. Been hooked up with Coke before it stained your tiny, chiclet ass baby teeth. Yeah. If you knew who I was, you wouldn’t threaten me like that. I’m not kidding. You’re lucky I even talk to you.
Sure, sometimes, I do things that I probably shouldn’t, like you did, and, alright, maybe things that happened last summer fall in that category. Fine: Say whatever you want. You think you’re so good and I’m trying so hard every day to do the best for every single living human being and you think you’re so good everything is always about you. Let me tell you something: I’m doing things. I know people. I know when you’re sleeping, and when you’re awake. I know if you’ve been good or bad, so be good, for goodness sake, and to save your own ass.
You have a video. WOW. Thousands of people pose like me. Who’s to say it’s authentic? Let me tell you: Nobody. Ms. Clause won’t even say your name. It’ll maybe peak on The Onion, and them, poof, be resigned to a life of twenty seven, thirty views on YouTube. Seen by a couple of your new hippies. Santa at the zoo. Oooo.
You got me in the den. Big deal. I like lions. Everyone likes lions. The Lion King was a serious thing. Lions help white photographers eat. Rest assured that they are doing fine. Swell. If you steal medicine for your poor grandmother, is it stealing? How do you think I get to where I need to be: Reindeer? Wake the fuck up sweety- they’re going extinct. I’m under indictment from the WWF as we speak.
And don’t think I don’t have a video of what you failed to do. If you think that you can just flip civilian- at this time of the year? You just left me there.
I’ll see you soon.
TO BE CONTINUED NEXT WEDNESDAY
words by L. Lachance