Christmas Is Hard When Your Whole Family Was Slaughtered On Christmas Morning By A Maniac In A Santa Costume
Hey, guys, thanks for inviting me to your Christmas party but I think I’m gonna split. Yeah, I know it’s only 8:30. I’m not really that into the holidays. It’s not because of the crass commercialism. I love crass commercialism. It’s… well, my whole family was slaughtered on Christmas morning by a maniac in a Santa costume.
I was only eight years old when it happened. We were gathered around the Christmas tree, opening gifts and making merry, when a deranged psycho dressed like Santa broke through the front door of the house wielding a kitchen knife. I hid underneath my bed, but he viciously murdered everyone else… Mom, Dad, my brother Paul, Nana, Granddad, and my six aunts and uncles. When I finally crept out, the carpet and walls were completely soaked with blood, and every person I loved had been carved up into a virtually-unrecognizable state. Ever since then… I dunno, Christmas doesn’t have the same magic.
I try not to let this time of year let me down. I’d love it if I passed by a mall Santa and it made me think of all the children who believe in that beautiful lie – the jolly old man who sneaks down their chimney and gorges himself on milk and cookies. Instead, it brings to mind deranged prison escapee Tommy Sidorkiewicz and his unnerving thousand-yard stare. Kinda makes me feel like a Scrooge!
To answer a question I’m sure you all have, I don’t know why he was wearing a Santa costume. I guess that’s what makes a maniac a maniac. You can’t make much sense of anything they do.
It’s not like I haven’t tried to get into the spirit. There’s still some Christmas traditions I take part in. I always hang a stocking by the chimney with care. Of course, all the care in the world won’t stop it from reminding me of how my Uncle Peter used a stocking to hold his intestines in after Tommy Sidorkiewicz gutted him like a fish. Geez, I am begging Santa to fill that thing with coal, huh?
Please, Jordan, keep your costume on. I’m about to head out, and these people shouldn’t be deprived of your “sit on Jordan’s lap and tell him what you want” routine. Because you are just slaying with that.
Don’t worry about me. I’ll probably just walk home, taking special care not to look at any newspapers, bus ads, storefronts or homes, and watch the Shalom Network, the only channel that isn’t showing some form of Christmas-themed content. It may not be the most entertaining stuff but I have picked up a working knowledge of Hebrew!
Well, kol tuv. What’s that? New Year’s? I’d love to, but my girlfriend was killed in a ball-dropping ceremony, so… pass.