by TW Brown
Hayden, December 16th, 1939
Nick,
Bring me some big-breasted broads, bullets, and
Dear St. Nick,
Please ignore that first bit.
I’ve been asked by my visiting nieces and nephews to participate in their annual letter to Santa, to leave under the Yule tree. Since you’re likely not in the habit of granting either of the “b-requests” above, I’ll happily take a bottle of single malt scotch instead. Leave it under the tree, untagged, and we’ll call it good.
Now to business. My 10-year-old nephew John says that he expected a bicycle last year, and instead got a toddler’s toy train. What the hell kind of Christmas Faerie are you? You should know better than to fuc screw up some kids Christmas! Make that right this year, got it?
Slitheringly yours,
Lash
PS: I knew that you’d smirk reading this, and imagined clearly that snort you wouldn’t be able to contain. I even pictured your round face squishing up while you considered ways to let down my nephew, and make me out to be the fool for asking you nice and polite.
So I didn’t go to bed with the others. I stayed up to lie in wait for you, to make sure you did the right thing by little John.
Merry Christmas, Laughing-Boy. Look behind your right shoulder.
25
12/8/2012
Santa,
My name is the Oscar, you may have seen me on Sesame Street. If you know anything about me, I live in a metal trash can where I've lived my whole life. I think I've been a good kid this year even though I've stolen tons of cookies with Cookie Monster from Big Bird and I toss my garbage in the street. I would like a new home for Christmas but, I think that may be a little to much for the elves to make, so I would be very happy with a new Waste Management top of the line plastic recycle bin. It would keep me warmer in the winter since metal is cold and I heard going green is the way to go. The tin cover to my trash can is warped and doesn’t close all the way so when it rains I get wet; not a pretty sight at all!!! A new recycle bin would come with an attached lid and I could start recycling.
P.S I promise I won't litter anymore.
Thank You,
Oscar
26
12/10/2012
Dear Santa,
Hey there, It's that time a year again for all the gift giving and presents. Last year you must of thought I was naughty, all I got was coal. You are probably wondering who I am, I am the one and only Satin. I think I've been good this year, I've been setting some of the souls down here to heaven. I created a coastline and some mountains for the remaining souls. I also turned the heat off because everyone was complaining that it was way to hot. Santa I know you will think that I've been a good man this year and I would like to ask you to reunite my brother and I.
P.S I left some cookies down here for you and the reindeer, This year they wont be melted like last year.
Thank You,
Satin
27
Dear Santa,
I only just heard of you. As a matter of fact, I didn't believe you existed until last year when I was out and about on my horse stalking the beautiful night landscape of upstate New York. The moon was big and round, shining bright orange.
On horseback, all four legs pumping furiously as my blade was ready to take another head for my collection. Ah....it was majestic...the hunt for the prey....he was definitely not fit to run as hard as he did, he was round...huffing and puffing like a tobacco pipe.....I could smell fear in the brisk, cold air. He was far ahead of me for a few minutes.
But it is only cat and mouse games until the blade severs the head from the body.
My horse caught up with him just as he was about to cross the county line, my blade set to take his head, when I heard a deep thunderous laugh...a jolly laugh, and I saw high in the sky your reindeer and sleigh glide across that huge orange moon.
I swung my blade and missed just barely.
He was across the county line.....
Lost to me forever.
So, is there anyway possible you could bring the head of my missing victim back to me?
Sincerely,
The Headless Horseman.
28
Dear Santa,
I know this letter is a bit late, but I have been very very busy this year and wasn't able to write sooner. I know that you can be a bit judgmental with your naughty and nice list so hear me out. This year, as you know, I have taken a few people's lives; but all of them with good reason. It was all in the name of science, I promise. It's not like I'm one of those weirdos that goes around killing human beings for no reason. Let me explain.
So the first guy I killed was a bum. He didn't have a family, or job or anything. So I was doing a public service by removing him from the street. I saved the people of my town hundreds of encounters with this beggar asking for money and ruining the wonderful feelings associated with the holiday. Not to mention the possible theft this layabout could have committed, lowering real estate values.
The next six or seven (I can't really remember) were all prostitutes. I feel I shouldn't even have to explain myself here, hookers don't have souls. They were all law breakers who sold they're bodies to normal hard working citizens. These harlots of the night passed disease around to men with wives and children drastically diminishing the lifespan of hundreds of people. Those poor, poor children would have grown up without parents! So removing the threat of these women was completely altruistic.
The tax collector was trying to shut me down so I could not finish my noble work. Sometimes you have to stand up for your fellow man and trust me I did just that. He was a crooked evil man who was attempting to take double or even triple the taxes he should have. Children were starving to death and shoppes were going out of business, thus ruining our fragile economy.
The town physician; well to be honest that may have been my only naughty act this year. He insulted me in public calling me a crazy man and almost ran me out of town before i could finish my experiment. Not to mention he had glorious hands and in the name of science I needed the very best tools for the job. Surely no one is perfect and you can look past this one slip up this year, for I have done many wonderful selfless acts.
I kept families from splitting up, reduced harm on the economy, increased property values by eliminating vagrants and extended the life span of the citizens. When you think about it, I acted as any outstanding member of my community should.
For these amazing acts of kindness I want only one thing For Christmas. You see, I was able to assemble all of the various parts and pieces, but I lack the power to get my little experiment to work. It hasn't rained in thirty three days here, so for Christmas can you make it storm? Its not the typical gift, I know, but I need a large amount of rain and lightning to power up my machines to get this thing animated.
Sincerely,
Dr. Victor Frankenstein
29
Dear Santa,
I know that bogarting all the coffee in the office is probably enough to put me on the naughty list, but before you mark me off as someone who is going to get coal for Christmas, please hear me out.
See, I love coffee. It's a bit of an addiction. That sweet, dark, stimulating nectar of roasted bean juice. I love coffee so much that I get jealous if I even see someone else enjoying the arousing aroma of my one true love. I mean, I know that millions of people enjoy at least one hot cup of coffee every morning, but to actually have to see someone else with my sweet, sweet amor. . . it breaks my heart. I've learned to avoid coffee houses altogether (they're like orgies of caffeinated love juice) but the office I work in is almost as bad. There she is every morning, my sweet coffee, mellowing on the burner while she waits for the hard-working men and women of the company to step up and taste her. It's excruciating to watch, having to work while they ravage her, drain her and leave the carafe empty in their wake, ready to be
filled again and again.
The only solution, I've found, is to horde all the beans as soon as management purchases them. Oh sure, they've tried to discover who's doing it, but they've never caught me in action. Not yet. My love for the bean has made me crafty. They'll never catch me!
I've been told that stealing all the coffee in the office is a downright villainous thing to do, but I'm hoping that my letter casts my activities in a better light. It may be asking a lot, given the circumstances, but I'm hoping that this year, you might find it within your jolly red heart to put some parcels of coffee under my java-colored Christmas tree this year.
Caffeinated kisses,
-The office coffee bogart
30
Dear Santa,
Are you my mummy? Do you know my mummy? I’ve been searching for her. Are you my mummy? I don’t know my mummy. Maybe I don’t have a mummy. I really hope I have a mummy. There are bombs going off everywhere. I am quite scared. Where is my mummy?
Dear Santa, all I want for Christmas is my mummy. This gas mask on my face is getting heavy. People run from me and scream. They hide. The children I used to live with even hide away from me. I try to ring them on the telephone, but they will not answer. I knock on the door, “Are you my mummy?” I ask them, but they will not answer.
Where is my mummy?
Mummy? Mummy? Are you my mummy?
Love,
Are You My Mummy?
31
Dearest Santa,
Let us come to some form of agreement, one pale immortal to another. I have heard that you are in the habit of dispensing gifts to individuals who have been decent to those of a mortal persuasion throughout the year. As such, I propose a deal that seems to be, to me, rather convenient for the two of us. In exchange for a steady supply of fresh blood, I could be persuaded to spend my days locked away in my tower, devouring none but perhaps the occasional soliciting salesman or missionary, and certainly leaving alone the various good little boys and girls of the world.
If this deal is acceptable to you, I would ask that you write back at your earliest convenience, for the yule holiday is fast approaching.
Bites and kisses,
Vampire
666 Transylvania lane, Room 1408.
Sanguine Heights, USA
32
Dear Santa,
