Santa Claus Read online

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  Office of the Postmaster General, North Pole Division:

  NEWS

  For release 10 a.m. Monday, December 25, 2008

  For centuries children have written letters at Christmas-time. Whether addressed to Santa Claus, Saint Nick, Kris Kringle, Father Christmas, or any of a dozen other names, they were all meant for one magical figure who lives at the North Pole. Within these letters children poured out their hopes and dreams, their wishes and wants, their questions and concerns. On Christmas morning they would wake to find if these requests had been honored. And it was the only way to know if their letters had actually been read.

  Until now.

  No one quite knows why it happened, or what may have made the old man crack, but shortly after Christmas, letters began arriving for these kids. First just one, and then a few scattered more, and then a flood of them began appearing all across the world. For the first time ever, Santa was writing back.

  And clearly he had an awful lot to say.…

  Dear Santa,

  I really want some pink ballet slippers so that I can dance really good in my ballet recital. Everyone else has new slippers and mine are all beat up, plus they’re black because they are hand-me-downs from my sister. My mom thinks I don’t need new ones, so I thought I’d ask you for them.

  I always do my homework. Plus, my friend Amanda told me you didn’t exist, but I didn’t believe her, so I am really loyal. I would like those ballet slippers so I hope you think about all the good stuff I did this year. Say hi to Mrs. Clause for me.

  From,

  Lindsay

  Dear Lindsay,

  First of all, it’s dance really well—not that you’re likely to ever do so. To dance well requires talent, not new ballet shoes. Your mother has recognized your complete lack of ability and that’s the real reason she hasn’t gotten you new slippers. I would be remiss in superseding her authority in this regard.

  I encourage you to continue to do your homework, particularly math, as you are destined to become a mid-level tax accountant, not a prima ballerina with the New York City Ballet. And your friend Amanda may know more than you think. Blind faith won’t get you anything other than 4-5 years in a minimum security correctional facility for tax fraud when you’re 43. It will come as a result of being “really loyal” to your boss when his accounting shell game is finally exposed.

  Ho Ho Ho

  SANTA

  Dear Santa,

  This year, I have been a very good girl. I have done a few bad things, but I help my mommy with the dishes all the time. And I always say thank you, and so I deserve lots of presents this year!

  Please bring all of these things for me this Christmas because I am planning on leaving you milk and cookies on the table. I would like all of the Harry Potter sheets, action figures and movies. Please don’t forget to bring a bicycle with pink ribbons and a basket too. If you can only bring one thing, please bring a puppy—mom and dad won’t mind.

  P.S. My little sister has not been very good this year because she broke my headbands and pinched me, so if you need extra room in your sleigh you can put my stuff in instead of hers.

  Thanks Santa!

  Love,

  Andra

  Dear Andra,

  A few bad things?! I think you seriously underestimate either your behavior or my intelligence. I’m used to kids trying to sell out their siblings, but rarely do they sink so low as to attribute to them the misdeeds that they themselves are guilty of. We both know that you in fact are the one who broke your sister’s headbands and then pinched her when she tried to tell your mother. This despicable tactic may be useful for a politician, but you’re not running for anything here other than gift recipient.

  Which brings me to your wish list. I’m sick and tired of Harry Potter , and I don’t just mean lugging the heavy things around. In case you haven’t noticed, it’s the same damn story, book after book after book. Who cares if the ancillary stuff is inventive when the plots themselves suck?! The bookstores are filled with thousands of other books, almost all of which are better written than any Harry Potter title. Personally, I would recommend a series entitled The Extraordinary Adventures of Ordinary Boy. They’re just as much fun, and will also show you how not to be such a sucker. Try reading some of them. Oh, wait. That’s right, they don’t come with matching sheets!!

  Grow up,

  SANTA

  Dear Santa,

  My big sister told me that you can see everything that goes on from the North Pole. That means that you can tell whether all the boys and girls in the whole world have been good or bad. I am writing you this letter to remind you that I have been very good this year. I just wanted to let you know in case you missed me because I am so small. I would really like to see your reindeer and give them some carrots, but I know you visit when I am asleep. So I wanted to help you out this year and tell you what I might like. I would really like some dolls and a new tea cup set. I also like stuffed animals, cats are my favorite. Merry Christmas Santa, see you soon.

  Love,

  Marisol, age 6

  P.S.. keep an eye on my sister, she steals cookies!!

  Dear Marisol,

  You had me all the way through your letter, but then you went and blew it at the very end by ratting out your sister. What kind of a traitor are you? I know full well what your sister is capable of, but up until now, I never suspected how small and petty you could be. It saddens me that the lovely Wedgwood Tiny Tea Service I had set aside for you, and the giant-size stuffed Simba we’ve been working to complete for months will now be going to someone far more deserving.

  Perhaps your sister.

  Cheers!

  SANTA

  Dear Santa,

  Remember when I asked you for a microscope—as I recall I Was pretty specific about the model and you sent me what amounted to a glorified magnifying glass, thus rendering the cool slides my sister bought me useless? No? Well, I Do. Somehow, even though I suspected that you didn’t exist, I clung to the belief that you Would come through for me, just once. I spent the better part of that year being quite “nice.” when Kim Kempke called me names on the playground and threw dirt at me at recess, I just said, “Sticks and stones may break my bones but names Will never Hurt me.” You and I both know what a brat that kid Was, but I took it because I knew that you Were watching.

  when I got in trouble for taking the last Creamsicle, even though my SISTER Had eaten it, I didn’t rat Her out because there is a pretty fine line when it comes to sticking up for yourself or being a snitch and yet there I Was on Christmas morning trying to be gracious when I opened that sorry excuse for a microscope.

  My sister and brother both gave me the same look they reserve for our cousin. You know, the one my Dad calls “simple.”

  I Was Heartbroken. what in Heaven’s name Were you thinking? Was it a last minute gesture? I realize my last name is at the end of the alphabet, but I thought a kid Would get some credit for taking it on the chin a couple of times during the year without complaint.

  There Were many times I Wanted to be naughty, but the thought of losing out because I gave Danny Arico a charley Horse Was more than I could bear.

  I weighed my options and realized that nothing Would get in my Way when it came to that microscope. Except Santa Claus Himself, apparently.

  Well, let me be the first to say that while you may Have come through in years past, I am no longer your biggest supporter.

  The Word is out. People know that you are a fair weather friend and you Have been marked lousy. Once that Happens there is no Way you can get back on my good side.


  Not even if you brought me, say...a brand new bike. It’s too late, Santa.

  It’s not that I don’t believe in you, it’s that I don’t Have much faith in your “powers.”

  So from now on, the gloves are off. Naughty? You got it, buddy.

  Let’s see what you do with that.

  Your friend,

  Paige warwick

  a dissatisfied customer

  P.S. And Kim Kempke? SHE got the Barbie Dream House AND the Corvette. Justice? I think not.

  Dear Paige,

  When did you turn into such a little bitch?

  Your friend,

  SANTA

  Dear Santa Clause,

  I think that I have been very bad this year. Do you want to know some things I did? O.K. I’ll tell you anyway. First of all, I have been planning to dominate the world. I’ve done other bad things also. That is the worst. Now, I will name some things that you will get me (or else). I want a giant machine gun to blow up the world with. I want a big evil Barbie doll. I want my own elf. If I don’t get these then I will be extremely mad. So mad that I will blow up the world anyway. So Santa Clause, the world is doomed no matter what.

  Hugs and Kisses,

  Rianna

  Dear Rianna,

  I think it’s time to see your doctor about taking you off of the Ritalin.

  Calmly yours,

  DR. SANTA

  Dear Father Christmas,

  Do you know some kid who might possibly fancy a little sister? My sister is always getting into my stuff and following me around. She always tosses her peas at me at dinner, and I worry she might throw her fork.

  She draws in the books you gave me and got my fish water dirty TWICE!

  I know I’m supposed to write you a list-you told me this at Harrod’s, remember? So all that’s on my list is: #1-GIVE away my sister!!!!!!!!!!!

  Sincerely,

  Giles

  P.S.-I know my parents will be upset but I’ll give them my fish to watch.

  Dear Giles,

  This is a common request of little boys. What you don’t yet understand is that boys are given sisters for a very important biological reason, and that is to prepare them for the future torture of having wives. Women are maddening creatures and the only way that nature can make us ready for such a trial is to train us from childhood to cope with their aggravating behavior. Girls are saddled with brothers for a similar reason. Just be grateful you’re not an only child. Marriage is often such a shock to them that they seldom survive it.

  Your fellow bloke,

  FATHER CHRISTMAS

  (P.S. Whatever you do, DON’T let this letter fall into the hands of Mrs. Claus.)

  Dear Santa,

  Santa why you ain’t get me

  my little laptop. That is so kind

  of sinning.

  Mikey

  Dear Mikey,

  Why you ain’t writing in a language I can understand? Master English and you’ll not only get a laptop, but you’ll also avoid a lifetime association with the penal system.

  Your homey,

  FAT SANTA

  Dear Santa,

  For Christmas you gave me everything I wanted. I’m not sure if you gave my cat enough, but I think he can manage. I wanted to thank you for eleven whole years of fabulous gifts, and making a lot of children happy. I wish you would have eaten the cookies my mom set out for you. Your reindeer had no problems leaving my family a pleasant little present. Could you get down the chimney easily, we left a fire burning. There isn’t much room left so I should get started with my gift demands. Next year I want A NEW CELL PHONE! A GIFT CERTIFICATE TO TIFFANY’S! EVERY NEW BARBIE ITEM PRODUCED DURING THE PAST TWO YEARS! A PLAYSTATION, AN X-BOX AND A Wii! A NEW OUTFIT FOR EVERY WEEK OF THE YEAR! AND A PUREBRED CORGI NAMED GISELLE! (if that’s not to much trouble!!) By the way, next year, please bring my parents more things.

  Thank you Santa!

  Tara

  Dear Tara,

  The signs were all there, but clearly you’ve missed them. The cookies weren’t eaten, and the burning fire wasn’t a problem for the simple reason that I’ve never stopped at your house—not even once. I don’t even want to think where the “present” in your yard that you attribute to my reindeer came from.

  I’ve never visited your house because your parents buy you everything you’ve ever even glanced at, all in a pathetic attempt to purchase your affections—little good that it’s done them as I’ve watched you grow into an increasingly nasty, greedy little brat. If you had even a hint of a conscience, you’d realize that your parents receive little at Christmas for the simple reason that they have no money left after spending it all on you (and your cat). Frankly, it serves them right.

  But don’t worry, they’ll continue to lavish money and gifts on you for everything from prom, to your sweet sixteen party, to your $500,000 wedding that they’ll mortgage their house for. When your father has a heart attack, he’ll even understand that your nail appointment took precedence over visiting him in the hospital—even though you’ll miss your last opportunity to see him alive. There will be nothing left for you to inherit, but that’s okay because you’ll be married to a sucker who will work his ass off in a fruitless attempt to try and satisfy you. Through it all you will continue to feel deprived. By then you’ll have even stopped noticing that I’ve never paid you a visit.

  Coal is too good for you,

  SANTA

  Dear Santa,

  I hope you remember me from when I came to sit on your lap at the mall, but it’s me Sarah!!!

  I’ve been sooooooooo good this year you wouldn’t believe it. I brush my teeth everyday and I listen to my mom and dad all of the time. I really hope you noticed. Say hi to Rudolph for me, I like him the best. Anyway, this year for Christmas, I really really really want a new Barbie doll and a make-up kit so I can play dress up with all my friends. I really hope you get this letter Santa because I sure could use all of these things. Thanks again.

  Love,

  Sarah (with an H)

  ps. I wont forget to leave your favorite chocolate chip cookies and a tall glass of milk, plus I got carrots for all the reindeer.

  Dear Sarah with an H,

  I’m afraid I can’t say “hi” to Rudolph for you. Rudolph doesn’t exist. He was an invention of the Montgomery Ward company back in 1939, and I’ve never seen a dime of the revenues generated by that red-nosed cash cow. Of course, that hasn’t stopped every kid on the planet from writing me to ask about him.

  As for your request for a Barbie doll and make-up kit, I hate to break it to you, but neither you, nor 97% of your friends are ever going to develop a body similar to that of a Barbie doll. And trying to achieve that look with make-up will just leave you looking like a hooker. Instead, I’m going to bring you a Raggedy Ann doll which better represents your future body type. And don’t be glum. Raggedy Ann at least ended up with a loving partner in Raggedy Andy. Barbie just ended up with that dickless fag Ken.

  Thinking of you!

  SANTA

  Dear Santa Clause,

  How are you? How are all your reindeer? I’m doing great because I’ve been so good this year. I share all my toys with my little sister and I wash behind my ears. I’ve even started helping grandma bake cookies especially for you! Since I’ve been so good this year I thought you might like to have my Christmas list. For Christmas this year I would like:

  1. a new Playstation

  2. Monopoly

  3. Spiderman

  4. a trip to Disney World

  5. rollerblades

  That is all for this year, hope to see you soon. Lane

  Dear Lane,

  Consider this as a bonus tip from me. When sending a letter asking for free stuff, it pays to spell my name right—unless you really were trying to contact Tim Allen. (Depending on the outcome of my trademark infringement case against him and the Walt Disney Company, you may not do so well going down that route.) But let me continue on to the heart of your lette
r.

  You truly are delusional.

  I know you honestly believe that the good deeds you rattled off represent your behavior for the entire past year, rather than the activities that occurred during the two hours leading up to the writing of this letter. Two hours of good behavior hardly justifies a new Playstation, let alone a trip to Disney World!! It does justify a copy of the Spider-man edition of Monopoly, though, which combines two of your requests into a single crappy gift. You’ve earned it!