Wow...that was fast!
Seems like Santy has two lists he keeps. One is the "What I Want For Christmas List" and the other is the "you know what" list. Looks like I'm on the latter.
Anyhow...here's his reply.
Dear Barry,
This is to acknowledge that we did receive your wish list letter at the North Pole. I want you to know that I gave your wishes careful consideration. However,...after retrieving your file from the naughty or nice database I did find,...how should I say this,... well there were a number of red flags that popped up if you will.
The left side of the list was rather lengthy and I simply can't list all the infractions therein, so I just want to highlight a few so you'll know exactly where you stand.
For example, there seemed to be an incident at the workplace where you decided to take a roll of shrink wrap and completely engulf a co-workers vehicle. That in itself is not so bad but unfortunately the poor guy was expecting the birth of his first-born child that day...which did take place. To compound things, there was a torrential rain that came and this poor chap spent two hours cutting the shrink wrap from his car so he could rush to the hospital to witness the birth of his child...which we now know...he missed.
That's not very nice Barry.
The second thing that stood out also involved another co-worker. It seems this guy drove a pickup to work each day and parked in such a manner that once he left work he approached his vehicle from the front. In other words Barry, and this is something I'm sure you studied vigorously...he never looked at his tailgate. For some reason you decided to tape a sign on his tailgate that read "I just married my sister!". Barry, the poor guy got the living crap beat out of him that same day in front of the Golden Chick because of that sign.
That wasn't very nice either Barry.
Then lastly. It seems you developed some bizarre pattern or infatuation of breaking wind in the early morning hours and pulling the covers over Miss Carol's head. I'm sure Miss Carol relishes each of those memorable occasions.
You're kind of a sick puppy Barry.
Long story short Barry...you ain't getting squat on that list. You're getting nada...like in "not a" dadgum thing.
On second thought however, since I have to come your way anyhow, you can expect two things from me on Christmas Eve.
On Christmas Eve as I fly over your house I'll toss you a couple of packages of size 12 streamer hooks (Mustad 9672's to be exact), in hopes this will be enough to keep your little demented mind pacified for the coming year.
The second thing you can expect from me Barry is this. On Christmas Eve at eleven-forty-ish (like you said), you'll be standing in your front yard, drinking beer, scratching your butt probably, and peering up in the sky as I fly by.
Barry...look for my middle finger.
I plan on painting it fluorescent orange just to make sure you see it.
Ho, Ho, Ho, and Merry friggin Christmas you little prick.
Oh, by the way...the middle finger thing was the idea of Mrs. Claus.
Santa
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