Not everyone loves Santa, especially if I fail to deliver the gifts some little brats are demanding. I get a lot of hate mail from those aforementioned disappointed brats and, well, it’s made me pretty thick skinned over the years. Indeed, I am impervious to abuse, which is just as well as today’s kids are much more volatile than ones from the past. Have a look at some of these hate mail letters from the last 150 years.
1877 – Rupert
12 year old Rupert was disappointed the wooden rocking horse I brought him collapsed after only three uses, leaving Rupert with a black eye, severed limb, and concussion. He sent me this snotty letter in response to his problems.
Dear Santa Claus. The rocking horse you gave me almost killed me can you please put more effort into making your toys? Thank you. Rupert.
Back then, Santa used to respond personally to all letter senders (the world population was a lot less back then, of course… now, it’s like goddamn rabbits), rather than just the ones who really annoy him in contemporary life, so could let rip with his superior intellect and general contempt for humanity.
Dear Rupert. The next time you feel inclined to complain about a matter beyond your control, I recommend you SHUT YOUR FACE! Yours, Santa Claus
191o – Jessica
Jessica sent me a very nice Christmas letter asking for a doll, which I delivered on Christmas day… but I also puked all over the doll’s head because I was extremely drunk. I left them some bleach so the family could clear it up. This, however, wasn’t enough so Jessica got in touch.
Dear Santa. Daddy was upset you left your stomach contents all over our home. I was unable to use my new doll due to the stomach contents making it unusuable. I just wanted to let you know. Thanks, Jessica
I felt a bit bad about this one but, unfortunately, when I responded I was extremely drunk and so my response letter was also covered in vomit. I was also highly antagonistic. Oops.
"Jessica" - Firstly, when you get older you will realise life doesn't revolve around YOU. Secondly, vomit is harmless enough, it just smells a bit bad. Thirdly, how old are you? Do you really need a doll? You should be out there getting yourself a JOB! Regards, Santa
1969 – REFRIGERATION UNIT
The ’60s were an interesting time for Santa. I was in my stoner phase, which was made worse because I also had a load of kids with weird names sending me letters. It was a heady time. For instance, Refrigeration Unit, one of Frank Zappa’s kids, asked me for an odd thing.
Greetings. I am Refrigeration Unit and I would appreciate for Christmas a segment of Jupiter dribbled in margarine with the whispers of Andy Warhol rendering aforementioned item whimsical. Much obliged. RF xx
I had no idea what this imbecile was on about, so on the day I ended up giving them a cow pat in a box (it seemed vaguely analogous to the description in his/her letter). Refrigeration Unit wasn’t best pleased about this and let me know with a formal complaint.
Santa - Was that some sort of joke? I ask you for ethereal matter transported from another world and you provide me with the effluence from within a cow? Whilst it has assisted my father's cabbage patch, I am left without the luminosity which I, perchance, had dreamt would enlighten my life in the manner of which a thundering shot of meteroic vapor would transform our existence into a clandestine miracle from whence there be no more marvels. Yours. RF
Okay, so I was very confused by this, not least as I was drunk and stoned at the time. I had to wade on in whilst not being in full control of my faculties, but I don’t think this came across in my response, thank mistletoe.
Refrigeration Unit - When I was a lad, I had to deal with jumped up little tykes like you. Do you know what me and the lads did to jumped up little tykes? We'd steal their pocket money and use it to buy ravioli from the school canteen! Do you want such a fate? No!? Then ask me for something normal next year, like the Door's latest album, a hippy wig from Woolworths, or a bong. Most importantly - don't bother Santa! You may be into peace and love, but I'm pro-Vietnam, I love firing my shotgun wildly into the air, and despite my enormous beard and general unkempt nature I most certainly am not a bloody hippy! My advice to you? Get a job! Kind regards, Santa Claus
2016 – anonymous
Then, of course, you get the modern day kids who feel pretty entitled to stuff they don’t deserve. Take last year and this anonymous letter – this is where my pro-violence stance comes in rather handy.
SANTA! WHERE THE **** WAS THE ****ING PS4 I DEMANDED YOU FAT SACK OF ****!!!!!!! GODDAMN NOOBIE GAY!!!!!
One must understand these Millenial brats are simply malnourished and narcissistic snowflakes. They don’t understand what it was like getting a limb severed during WWII, mopping up after your stoned buddies at Vietnam, or running terrified from all the sheep on the Falkland Islands. No. So, I went feral.
Dear kid. I got your number. I hear you want a PS4 and, well, I'm a PS4 making machine. Lucky for you, I've made a PS4 bazooka that SHOOTS PS3s and PS2s at scrawny little ignoramuses like you. Ever wondered what the sound of bones crunching is like? Well when a PS3 clobbers your puny limbs you're going to know. Oh, guess what, I'll come to the rescue and hook you up on PC classic Theme Hospital, you goddamn console peasant! [Editor: It turns out Santa is into his PC gaming.]
That’ll show the little git. Theme Hospital is amazeballs. Ho ho holy hell! Mwaahahahaha!