Santa Claus Exclusive: Official Christmas Newsletter #3

Santa Claus Newsletter
As you can see, the nuclear radiation led to this deformed toy. It had been a woolly jumper. Now it’s transmogrified into this!

Merry Christmas everyone! You’ll now all bit sitting around overindulging in Christmas pudding, Kellog’s Cornflakes, and probably even sprouts. We love sprouts! Anyway, whilst we’re all sitting about the place relaxing, Santa Claus had one heck of a busy time of it!

Santa’s Christmas Newsletter #3

Jingle boll***s everyone. It’s that time of year again! The time of year when I’ve endured several nervous breakdowns and psychotic frenzies during the ridiculous ordeal I have to go through annually – delivering presents to you all.

Brad Pitt Issues

Last time out in Santa’s second newsletter I reported I had a date with a right wing nutjob. I wanted to look better for this, and intended to replace my head with Brad Pitt’s. As it turns out, Brad Pitt is still using his skull and, consequently, removing it from his body would form some sort of gross misconduct on Santa’s part. I consider this highly selfish of Mr. Pitt and told him so in a foul mouthed Tweet.

As a result, I decided to take up plastic surgery to improve one’s visage. I went with breast augmentation, a face lift, botox, a manicure, and a beard trim. Whether you now think I look like a tramp or not, I’m really putting the X into XMas this year! And by X I mean X Factor, that tawdry unpleasant reality TV series which is watched, and enjoyed, by imbeciles.

Anyway, the date. Sadly for Santa, it went horrendously badly after the right winger showed middle-of-the-road political sensibilities. I couldn’t handle this advanced form of progressivism and consequently punched him in the face and ran home crying.

Santa’s Circumnavigation of the World

Delivering your presents this year was typically fraught. I visited each and every one of you, though, and broke into your properties to deliver the finest gifts known to humanity. After the mishap detailed last week, you’ll notice a healthy radioactive glow to all of your presents. Fear not, this probably won’t alter the composition of your blood in a negative way.

As the airways as so busy these days with commercial flights, I was regularly buffeted around by Boeing jets and the like. At one point I received a nasty blow to my skull from an errant Boeing 747 wingtip, after which I began having delusions about alien invasions. However, this merely turned out to be the Star Wars merchandise which was overloading my sleigh.

My delusions certainly weren’t aided by my decision to keep my spirits up by indulging in my newfound lust for Class A narcotics. This led me to shriek hysterically (differentiating sporadically between laughter and emotional distress with alarming rapidity) whilst partaking in my journey.

After being struck by the Boeing aircraft, I was also bleeding profusely from my skull. Much of this was masked by my choice of red overhauls, but I definitely had a severe case of brain swelling. This was making me rather ungainly in my appearance and unsteady in my gait.

“Madman”

This is how I, the great Santa, was dubbed by foolish citizens! Upon sighting me breaking into their homes cackling insanely, drenched in blood, and clearly high on illegal substances, they became quite capricious in their reactions. There were those who panicked, some attacked me with their smartphones, and others yelled “Go away, you madman!”.

Others began shrieking in hysterics as if mimicking me out on my sleigh, which infuriated Santa as I thought they were taking the p***. This led to several altercations for which Santa can only apologise – I was under a lot of stress at the time and I did not mean to set fire to your homes in a manic episode.

Santa Signs Out for Another Year!

Despite this carnage I completed my present deliveries for another year. The fatalities, injuries, nuclear fallout, and psychological trauama shall subside with the inexorable passage of time, but in another 364 days I’ll be back on the sleigh armed and ready to do business.

Why? Because I’m Santa Claus. Being Santa is my job. I may hate it, I may hate you, and I may be one crazed misanthropic SOB, but now I have a nuclear half-life of 1,000 years there will be no stopping me! Mwahahahahaaaa!

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