"Did you hear about the dyslexic devil worshiper? He prayed to Father Christmas." -A man who claims not to be homeless
"Dude was greasier than Satan's balls / and he wouldn't return my letters nor calls" -Dante Alighieri
Following some instructions I found on the Internet, I decided to head straight to the source: Santa Himself. I put on my money t-shirt and Santa hat, queued up that Kenny G number from A Very Merry Chipmunk on my brand-name hi-fi, and generally got moody. I also had my dad print out some North Pole themed stationary and help me find my big kid pens. I decided to use the red and green colored ones for this letter.
After a month, I have received no reply. I can confirm that Santa will neither confirm nor deny that He is in league with the Prince of Darkness. Awfully suspicious, don't you think? Already this throws dubiousity on his Christian credentials. Should he not be ready to confess that the Bigger Guy is His Savior? Sure, we all have a little Manichean in our past. In the words of another Fat Man, "everybody's just a little bit homo-sexual." We could deal with that, Santa, even if Mrs Claus were less than sympathetic. Skeletons in the closet -- literally? Everything's been forgiven, girls! You can come home! But a lack of faith? Non, mon capitaine.
If the secrecy on this matter reveals anything, it's that Santa be illin'. But it may also be true that he also be marking us in a beastly fashion, if you'll pardon the pun.
Dear Santa Claus.
It's me, Luke. Are you there? I understand you get a lot of letters everyday, but this isn't your creditor Luke, it's the other one. You know, with the hair. Of course you know. You know everything. You see me when I'm sleeping and everything ;-) but you never call just to say hi. You only call when things aren't going well. What did I do wrong? I promise I haven't been too naughty.
So, how have you been? Are the reindeer staying out of trouble? Seen any good broads lately? That Mrs Claus is nice and all, but she really needs to lay off the eggnog if she's going to pretend to deserve you. Me? I'm going okay I guess. I just recently figured out that I'm such a miserable fuck because some asshole let George Carlin onto kids' TV. Thanks for asking.
Then I asked my parents to put it in the mail for me. What's the hold up for then?
Here's the part where I tell you how good I've been this year. Like, whoa! Not only did I put all my toys away, but I only used toys that would help in the fight against the War Against Christmas. I particularly made use of my toy sword, and those unbelievers couldn't get enough of my ray gun.
I know it's polite enough to limit my toy list to two or three things, but I'll keep it to one. Please bring me heaps of cash.
Thanks for bringing me toys every year. It's nice enough, I guess, even if what I really want is heaps of cash. You're great.
PS- Are you a Satanist or what?
Part two of this investigation later as soon as my parents allow me more computer time. As always, I welcome your comments.