Christmas Eve-il

My parents kept warning me for weeks. Ever since right after Thanksgiving, really.

“Santa is coming.” They would tell me.

It sent shivers down my spine, especially when they told me he would be breaking into our house while I was asleep. What kind of sick people would allow something like that while they had a small child?

Breaking and entering is illegal for anyone who lives in a civil society. This Santa guy though, he is able to just get away with it across the whole world? What gives him the right to be above the law? Bribes, I am sure. With access to any and everybody’s Christmas Wishlist, I am certain that he can easily decide what will work best as a sleazy grease payment to get him out of trouble with anyone.

They seemed to be in good spirits about the whole situation. They told me how he only wanted to bring us all the presents and fill our stockings with candy. That sounded fine speculatively, but what was in it for Santa? There had to be some reason that he was willing to do all of this for some family that he would never see in the light of day, and I could not buy that it was just for the milk and cookies as my parents would have me believe.

Maybe he was going to come and swap me out with a replacement child. My parents would be unwitting of the newly placed imposter child, and I would be slaving away day and night on the toys that he would use to recruit more for the next year. The elves had to come from somewhere, did they not?

It also sounded quite likely to me that he was a huge pervert. What other adult could get away with watching children all across the world, both while they were sleeping and awake? Nobody could, not without being slapped with restraining orders or a pair of handcuffs.

I’m sure that many of you have heard of Krampus, the demon goat man who punishes the naughty children while Santa rewards the good ones. I have a theory that the two might be one and the same. Like some sort of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde filled with murderous Christmas rage.

How do you think his coat and sleigh got that bright red color? In my opinion, it was the blood of the children who tried to resist him. Or maybe those that he decided were “naughty”, but how did he really judge that, anyway? Those Rosy red cheeks of his? War Paint, with the same blood that coats his coat and his sleigh. Rudolph’s nose? Yeah, you get the idea.

I have heard horror stories of this Santa guy destroying families. Last year my friend Tommy from down the street told me he had seen Santa Claus kissing his mom by the tree when he crept down to sneak a peek. 6 months later? Divorced. Tommy’s dad must have not been very happy about his mother’s extra-marital activities.

You guys might think that I have it all wrong, that I have an over-active imagination, or that I am overly pessimistic about this situation. I know this is not the case though, I am a realist. I will not be the boy who sits back and allows any of these tragedies to befall him though, not without putting up a fight. Not without doing my best to defend myself and my family, no matter how oblivious the rest of them may be to the evils that lie ahead. As I am writing this, I have already laid out my pièce de résistance, the last line of defense between my family and this bearded bozo who thinks he can tear us apart.

While we were making our Christmas cookies, I slipped in a little something special for old Saint Nick. I asked Mother to grab me something from the other room and I filled that batter with enough rat poison to kill a horse or even a reindeer for that matter. Mother tried to taste the cookies after we finished but I was able to talk her out of it and assured her that we had made these cookies especially for Santa and that nobody else should have even a taste.

I will find it hard to sleep on this Christmas Eve night, but it will not be due to the fear of Santa that plagues me. No, I will be up in anticipation of when the fiend takes a taste of the special cookies that we left for him. I put some extra poison into his milk just in case he has had his fill of cookies and only needed a bit to drink at this stop of his yearly massacre. I know my parents might be upset with me when they realize what I have done, but after they hear my explanation, I am sure they will truly understand. It is for the best, after all, I could be saving millions for all I know.

It is getting rather late, I am going to make my way to bed and do my best to get some sleep before the Christmas morning that will change the future of all Christmas mornings that will follow. Merry Christmas to all of you! You can thank me later for the lack of terror and evil in this season of Yule.

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