So there I was, with Santa’s bebuckled boot on my neck and his angry bearded face staring down at me... I have to say, as I began to suffocate I began to see his point.
It all started when I offered the Jolly Fat man a glass of Egg Nog, I had been told through countless advertising that it was “Santa’s Favorite drink”, next thing ya know Im on the ground with his shiny boot crushing my wind pipe as he said with a Jolly foreboding growl “Egg Nog taste like reindeer ass!”. I gave him the universal “you win you win” hand gesture, hands in the air and tears streaming down my face... so he let me up. He took a deep breath and began....
“I hate Egg Nog...I hate it like a Elf hates a chinese toy company... but does anyone ever ask Santa what he wants? How about a RC Cola... I love RC Cola... Or a Tab? and while were at it how about a Bologna sandwich instead of cookies... or some Pork rinds” He looked off whimsically into the distance like he was remembering a fond memory “ I do Love me some pork rinds...” Suddenly he turned on me like a animal..”Every Freakin year I suppose know what the Christian world wants... not only the Christians... but allot of other folks muscling in on the whole “Presents” thing thinking as long as the prop up a fur tree they’re entitled.... how many of you bother to ask what santa wants?” a frustrated tear rolled from his happy blue eye “Cookies and Milk? seriously? every year? what if I gave people buttered bread every damn year!! I’d never hear the end of it would I!”
slowly he regained his composer, he picked his bag up off the floor and began to head back to the Chimney “I hate Egg Nog” he whispered... then grumbled “Merry Christmas” under his breath and vanished... but not before a elf kicked me in the Jewels and said “Ho...Ho... Ho”.