Santa Claus

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

  Why, thank you!

  In all the millions of letters I’ve received over the centuries requesting this and demanding that, no one has ever once asked me what I would like—until now. What I would like is a pair of knickers that don’t crawl up my arse when I’m dropping down a chimney. I don’t want to have to see that creepy Mr. Bean ever again. I want stupid people to stop voting. I’d like a retirement age that comes sooner than my 750th birthday. I’d like Coca Cola to stop using my image in adverts since I only drink Diet Pepsi. And I’d like half a quid for every copy of The Night Before Christmas that is sold.

  And since you were kind enough to ask, I’m going to be bringing you everything you want this Christmas—despite your lie about being good all year.

  Manners do matter,

  FATHER CHRISTMAS

  Dear Satan,

  Could you take back my little sister? I know I asked for one last year, and though she arrived after Christmas, I still think you brought her for me. She stinks up my room and drools on everything. Oliver down the street has a dog that does the same thing, so I wondered if you could take Julia back and get me a dog? (I already asked my parents if this was okay and they didn’t say anything, so that means YES.)

  Thanks!

  Your pal,

  Toby

  Dear Toby,

  Apparently this letter that you intended for Satan, got mailed to me by mistake. While I’m not completely familiar with how his operation works, I do believe one of his specialties is taking people away—or at least their souls. So while I can’t guarantee your request will be successful, the chances are far better than they are asking me.

  Good luck!

  SANTA

  (And no, I don’t have Satan’s address. Try writing to Dick Cheney, his representative here on Earth.)

  Dear Mr. Santa Claus,

  We don’t celebrate Christmas—we have Hanukah because we are Jewish people. But my teacher said we all have to write to you and my mom didn’t answer the phone when the princiPAL (he makes us write it that way) called her, so now I have to do what the teacher says.

  I don’t know you. I see you at all the malls and sometimes I see a menorah nearby. I get presents for 7 days which would be better for you so you don’t have to do it all at one night. But I don’t know if the reindeer would last.

  Wouldn’t you like more time to get around? You’d have cookies for a week instead of all on one night. You could share them with other people as you travel round.

  Teacher says I have to ask for something. I asked to stop having to be writing but she got mad.

  May I please get a new model for my spaceship collection? (I said “please”.) I hang my spaceships from my room and they glow in the dark at night.

  Elliot says I wrote more than the guy at the mall can read, so I guess I’ll be stopping now.

  Thank you.

  Evan Michael 8

  P.S.—If my mom writes to you all mad, you can tell her its Mrs. Henley’s fault

  Dear Evan,

  I’m sorry you’re stuck in such a crackpot school (next time you write the word principal try spelling it my way—princiPUTZ) and I’m sorry that they made you abase your own religion by writing to me. I know it can’t be easy dealing with all the glitz and glamour of Christmas, while pretending you’re having just as good of a time with a holiday that isn’t even remotely as much fun. But I admire the Jews in how they manage to profit so nicely from the hysteria of the goyim at this time of year.

  You’re obviously an intelligent kid, and have a clear eye for the reality around you. This will pay off for you big time when you grow up and start manufacturing loads of crappy Christmas product for your gentile neighbors to waste even more of their money on.

  L’chaim!

  SANTA

  Dear Santa,

  I want a new bike for Christmas. I don’t want a train set, a remote control car, or a puppy. You don’t need to bring me any toy guns, video games, or rollerblades. I don’t need any books or savings bonds. I need a BIKE! And if you could make it either blue, or red, or black that would be cool. Anything but yellow!!!

  Thank you, Santa. You’re the best.

  Bye,

  Robbie McNulty

  P.S. Remember, a bike!! That’s all!

  Dear Robbie,

  Well, those are a lot of things to remember but don’t worry, I have them all logged into our new computerized gift system. It’s infallible! So don’t worry, this year you’ll be getting a train set, a remote control car, a puppy, toy guns, video games, rollerblades, books and savings bonds. Was there anything else? Nope?

  Enjoy!

  SANTA

  Dear Santa,

  Hi, how are you? My best friend Saffron said that we could both write to you and ask for different things that we both want and then we could share. I hope that’s okay. (I have to share with my sister all the time and she’s always in the bathroom!)

  I would like a set of Pony Dolls. Not the little ones with the blue hair, but the ones that look real and can hurt someone if I throw them. I marked a page in the Christmas catalog so you could see what they look like but you and your elves can make then any color (real) that you want.

  Now please remember that Saffron is going to ask for these horses too, but you need to get her something else! (She’s the one who throws them at her brothers, not me.)

  Your dearest friend,

  Elyssa

  Dear Elyssa,

  How stupid do you think I am? I know that you’re only trying to prevent Saffron from getting Pony Dolls so that you can lord it over her that you have them and she doesn’t. I also know that you don’t even like the things (except for their ability to inflict pain), and are only making this deceitful attempt for the sole purpose of denying them to Saffron. Well, your nasty little plan isn’t going to work. I’ll be bringing Saffron every item available in the Pony Dolls line, and the first time you show up after Christmas, her brothers will throw so many horses your way, you’ll think you’re Catherine the Great. It would pay for you to remember that:

  I know when you’ve been lying,

  I know when you’re a creep

  —or whatever the hell the lines of that song are.

  Saddle up!

  SANTA

  DEAR SANTA CLAUS,

  Hi!!!!! My NAME iS SAffRON AND my BEST FRIEND EVER IS ELYSSA AND WE’RE BOTH WRITING To you To ASK foR diffERENT THiNGS THAT WE CAN SHARE. My bRoTHERS STEAL my ToyS ALL THE TimE ANd WHEN dAd mAKES THEm GiVE THEm bACK THEy’RE bRoKEN oR mESSEd UP.

  THAT’S WHy I’m WRiTiNG yoU ANd ASKiNG foR A PoNy DoLLS. THEy doN’T bREAK No mATTER HoW HARd my bRoTHERS THRoW THEm.

  ELySSA SAid SHE WoULd bE ASKiNG yoU foR A moToR CAR—ELySSA ANd mE CAN boTH RidE iN IT AT THE SAmE Time ANd my dAd CAN WALK bEHiNd US. WE PRomiSE NoT To Go off THE SidEWALK! CAN yoU bRiNG HER A PiNK oNE? PURPLE iS OK Too!!!!!!!!!!!

  REMEMbER, ELYSSA GETS THE CAR AND I GET THE PoNy DoLLS, but WE PRomiSE To SHARE. So THAT’S LiKE getting moRE PRESENTS from you WiTH LESS work on your PART.

  I’m going To put this LETTER in THE box AT THE PoST offiCE AND ELYSSA is TAKING HER LETTER to THE MALL, So I HOPE you GET both of THEm!!!

  THANK you!

  SiNCELERy,

  YOUR FRIENd,

  SAFFRON (NOT ELYSSA)

  Dear Saffron (not Elyssa),

  One of the most important lessons to learn in life is how to choose your friends. So far, you have failed this test miserably.

  Try again,

  SANTA

  Santa Claus,

  Hi! How are you? Remember when I told you I wanted a baby brother or sister last year? It was very nice of you to send me 6, but that’s an awful many babies and I thought maybe some other little girl would want one of them this year. So FEEL FREE to take them back at least a few. Mommy said the bunk beds in my room are an early present from you, but I didn’t ask for them, but thank you anyway. I want a bigger bed so they know it’s not for them. Do you remember them? Jennifer, Jon
ah, Julia, Jasmine, Jacks, Jordan. They all have the same birthday too. My room is too small for all of us but Daddy doesn’t want to put them in the garage and they can’t go where his marital arts mats are in the basement.

  Maybe I could go in the garage? If you get me a bigger bed, we could put it there and put the big van outside. I wouldn’t mind. Anyway. You were very nice to send so many babies but maybe someone else wants them now?

  And a doll that looks like Hannah Montana but isn’t because Mommy doesn’t like her.

  TY! ←that means THANK YOU

  Love,

  Jodie Jo

  Dear Jodie Jo,

  Clearly, your father needs to put away his “marital” arts mats in the basement, since he has obviously made too much use of them. Either that or your mom’s fertility drug dosage leaned a little on the heavy side. Or maybe you just don’t know how to spell. In any case, your mother is right about Hannah Montana. She could be in rehab before you reach junior high. But you should be nice to your six new siblings. By the time they’re seven, they’ll have their own top-rated cable series, The Sensational Sextuplets. The Disney Channel will be thrilled to have finally gotten the word “sex” into the title of one of their programs, and the ratings will be off the charts until your siblings become passé at puberty.

  It’s All Karma, Baby.

  SANTA

  Santa Claus,

  I want a very cool spaceship. Last Christmas you brought me the same one you gave to Toby in my class. But everyone Knows he chews on his toys, so I want one that he can’t play with when he comes over. I’ll taKe very good care of it if you do. Mum says the one I want is too expensive for you, but I Know your elfs make the toys, not buy them so what does it cost? Nothing.

  (Sides, my mum showed my dad some necKlace she wants and I saw it on the telly and it’s very much money too. Can you maKe a cheaper one for her?) okay. Thanks for your time, sir. I hope you have a nice day.

  Sincerely,

  Ian

  Dear Ian,

  What happened to the spaceship I gave you last year? Of course I know exactly where you disposed of it, but I was hoping you’d have the decency to make mention of it. I fail to see how the fact that Toby chewed on his (I really do need to start looking into the lead content on those things) has anything to do with your spaceship. You had the opportunity to take good care of that one and failed miserably at the task. Whatever made you even think that petrol could make a good rocket fuel?

  I also think it’s wonderful how you’re willing to sell out your mother’s gift for the sake of your own. What a loving child you are. Perhaps when she receives exactly what she’s hoping for, and you receive the charred remains of last year’s spaceship, it will make you pause and consider your behavior.

  G’day mate,

  SANTA

  Dear Santa,

  I would like a different dad this year. Mommy got one when I was at camp last summer and now Eddie’s here all the time. His car smells and he calls me “buddy” and rubs my hair. I asked Mommy if we could get a different one and she made this face and went out of the room.

  I thought maybe you could bring Mr. Wade from science class. Drew’s big brother has him for biology and says he could use a date. I’m sure my mom would give him one. She met him at some PTA thing last year and talks about him all the time. But when I asked her if he could be my dad, she said he wasn’t going to get married.

  I don’t know what that has to do with anything. But I know he doesn’t pat my head and mess up my hair. He’s very clean and that’s important, right? RIGHT?

  OK so you take Eddie and bring Mr. Wade I don’t know his first name. We could call him Steve, that’s a nice name OK?

  Then I can play with the race cars you gave me last year and you won’t have to bring me any other toys. We all win!

  Thank you for your time.

  Aldon

  Dear Aldon,

  I’m afraid I haven’t brought another human being as a gift for someone since the Universal Declaration of Human Rights was ratified back in the late 1940’s. (I’ll admit I held off for years before finally signing it. But when it came down to just me and my ally China as the final holdouts, I conceded the point and added my signature.)

  I will give you something even better, though, and that’s a sure-fire way to get rid of your mom’s current boyfriend. Next time you notice that funny smell in Eddie’s car, just dial 911 and give his name and license plate number to the operator. You won’t have to see him again for a long, long time.

  I’m afraid that Mr. Wade won’t make a good replacement, though. While he would be a wonderful father for you, I’m afraid he wouldn’t make a very good husband for your mom. He doesn’t really like girls, if you know what I mean. But don’t worry, your mom will find someone perfect for both of you eventually.

  Assuredly yours,

  SANTA

  Dearest Santa Claus,

  I want a Barbie, a dollhouse not the pink one but the one with the elevator, a set of magic tricks, a basketball, pink boots, a gift card to the toy store, a High School Musical sweatshirt like Ally’s, a dvd player, and for you to come back in the summer when I can stay up later and meet you.

  Thank you.

  Natalie

  Dear Natalie,

  What makes you think I have any interest in meeting you? And why does Barbie need an elevator? The stairs are a great way for her to keep that famous figure of hers. If you put in a little time on the stairs you also wouldn’t need that enormous High School Musical sweatshirt, either. Not that I’m one to talk in that regard, but I also don’t have any desire to bag Zac Efron for a boyfriend.

  Keep sweatin’,

  SANTA

  Santa,

  ‘Supp? That means “what’s up”, get it? It means your a cool dude and I’m cool too so we can be cool together. I bet your very cool in the north pole hahahaha!

  I saw the picture of the polar bear on the ice melting and wondered if that would happen to you? Will the elves float away? Where will they go? Do you know they club seals sometimes?

  That’s not cool, but I want to see it happen. Answer me about the ice because dad says it won’t bother you and mommy says it will.

  For Xmas I want a video game station with TWO controllers, a flight game, the car stealing game, and the one with the zombies in the mall. I play it at Javier’s house and his mom lets us. I also want a football jersey but only from a player who is nice to his dog. I watch football on TV. Do you watch football? Do you know why it’s called a football? Because it’s a ball you kick with your foot to make a goal! Get it?

  I have another joke for you: what did one reindeer say to the other reindeer? Sure does smell around here! Hahahahahaha!

  Bye,

  Declan

  Dear Declan,

  Your attempt to be gangsta would merely be tiresome if you were actually black. The fact that you’re a pasty-faced white kid just makes it laughable. And it’s clearly the only laugh you’ll get based on your joke-telling ability.

  You do bring up a good point about global warming, though, and what that means for me. Your mother is right, and you father is obviously a douche bag, or a Republican (or most likely, both). He would only need to look at a map to see why I’m concerned. There is no LAND at the North Pole! If the ice melts, my whole operation sinks into the Arctic Ocean. Thankfully, I’m prepared. A fallback facility is currently under construction at the South Pole, even as we speak. But don’t you worry. Just keep playing your car theft games even as the water creeps up to your knees.

  Hope you can swim!

  SANTA

  PS: And despite all the negative accusations I can make about my former elves, the clubbing of seals is not one of them. That would have required effort on their part.

  Dear Santa,

  How are you and Mrs. Santa and Rudolph? I have been good - well, most of the time anyway. I would like it a lot if you could come to my house on Christmas Eve and bring with you a bus and an am
bulance and a truck and a train and some legos and a Frosty the Snowman toy and a new toothbrush. Also, can you bring my brother, Joshua, a pillowcase filled with money?

  Thanks very much. I’ll look for you on Christmas Eve and leave you cookies.

  Love,

  Baz (Sebastian)

  Dear Baz,

  Just how much do you think I can fit into my bag, for Chrissakes? While I know the obvious thing would be to assume you meant a TOY bus, ambulance, truck and train, I know that you actually expect working, full-size vehicles. Well, that’s not going to happen. Your brother is being far more practical in asking for a pillowcase filled with money. Not that that’s going to happen either. I used to bring kids cash, which I printed myself, until I fell afoul of the international crime bureaus of any number of countries. Scotland Yard came close to almost launching a full-scale assault on the North Pole. Well, I learned my lesson, by gum. Now I just slip my counterfeit pounds, euros, pesos and dollars into the world’s economy in small untraceable amounts. My condo in the Caymans is a perfect location for both some much needed off-season R&R and an ideal place to infuse capital into my operation.