Dear Santa


by Matt Morain

*Writer’s note: I found this letter in the garbage at the Post Office. Never mind what I was doing in the trash, but just believe that the validity of this letter is as solid as St. Nick is fat.

Dear Santa Clause,

My name is Ralphie Smalls. I am eight years old. I have been a good boy this year, if you don’t count the de-clawed Siamese cats I tied together by the tails and made fight to the death while South American gunrunners looked on and bet. Other than that, I was real nice and stuff, so I think you should bring me lots of gifts. I promise I won’t get tired of them this time.

1) I want a copy of “Grand Theft Auto: Vice City” for my Playstation 2. It’s a real cool game Santa. You should try it sometime. You go around stealing cars and killing people. You could pretend that everyone in the game was just another kid that pushes his sister down the stairs and still expects you to bring him presents even though he doesn’t believe in you. Instead of filling their stockings with coal, you could pump them full of lead. Neat, huh?

9) I want to learn how to count right. It’s really starting to hurt my schoolwork and the teachers are worried I’m slow.

5) I want glow sticks. I saw this kid playing with them at recess, and the older boys thought he was so cool that they kept giving him high-fives in the face. It went on for about half an hour.

5) I want you to stop making Harry Potter cool. It has to be you, because I can’t think of any good explanation for it. Plus my pastor says he’s a witch and that if I try to be like him I’ll turn into a girl (no thank you! They smell bad). I don’t ask for much on this one. All you have to do is stop delivery of any Harry Potter toys, clothes, or other merchandise to everyone’s house, and then completely wipe out any memory of the books or movies. Oh, and snuff out JK Rowling if it’s not too much trouble.

10) I want matches, kerosene and 10 minutes alone in my garage with the neighbor’s barking Pomeranian.

6) I want a new set of rubber sheets for my bed so the kids in the neighborhood will stop calling me “MC Pee Pants.” Having a nickname is not as fun as I thought it would be.

4) I want a cell phone. I know I’m only 8, but all my friends have one, and since I don’t, I feel like I’m not connected to the loop. They’re like, totally necessary too. What if I miss my bus home from school and I need to call for a ride but I can’t because there’s no phone and I end up alone face down in a gutter somewhere near a seedy motel in the bad part of town. You don’t want that on your mind during Christmas do you Santa?

7) I want you to tell me why the mailman keeps calling me son and why Daddy won’t talk to Mommy anymore.

2) I want a new fan. This probably sounds weird, but it’s really more for my mom. One day I asked her when dinner was going to be ready and she yelled at me and said I was an accident. She said she was sorry and said it was because she was “oscillating” or something. I checked into it, and I think it means her fan is broken. Hopefully this would fix things and protect me from her screams that only seem to come a couple days a month.

That’s all I can think of for now Satan, sorry, Santa. I won’t forget to leave a treat for you on the table. Last year you didn’t touch the milk or cookies, so my older brother Billy said I should leave some hash brownies and shots of Jagr, whatever those are. I’ll understand if you can’t get me all of the things on my list, but if I get less than half I can always wait for the mailman.

Yours truly,