Black Christmas

 
Clomp, clomp.

He was tired, so tired of well.. everything.
Every fucking day was just as draining. Wrapping endless gifts, reading from a pile of never-ending letters from spoilt brats demanding that they get little ponies and fast cars for Christmas. "He has an army of magical elves," they said. Where the fuck were the elves, when he needed them. There were NO elves around in the first place, idiots.

He hated how kids would blame him when he couldn't bring "Daddy home for Christmas.", or when they "got an iPad2 instead of an iPad3." No word of thanks, no appreciation; it's either he gets it right and satisfy them, or be mocked at every god damn year. "That big red lump messed it up again.", "I hate you Santa." Where's Rudolph? What, you think reindeers live to a hundred fucking years? Rudolph's buried in his backyard; and on his grave stood a neat marble tombstone. Nobody cared, of course; who gives a shit about a stupid old tool when there were presents to open? Nobody knew how he mourned for days over his fallen companion; perhaps the only being in the world who understood him. Rusty could never replace him, but not to worry, the world will never be the same after tonight.

Click.

He set out on his business, going down chimney after chimney, laying presents under beautifully decorated Christmas trees. The burden of the world was upon his shoulders, in his huge red bag, but he didn't care; in fact he has never felt so light in his entire, miserable life. Slowly but surely, his bag began to deflate, and he was done for the night. A cheery grin formed on his pudgy lips as he got ready to head home.

Ho Ho Ho!

From his sleigh, the view of the city was breathtaking; and that was just one of the thousands of cities around the world. He made sure that every child had his present. And just for that year, he tore the naughty list in half, because he didn't want anyone to miss out just because of some silly mistakes.
He took out a remote control from his pocket and weighed it in his palm. A little red button sat nicely in the middle, and that was the last time he looked like the jolly old fellow we've all known and loved. Santa Claus pressed the red button.

Merry Christmas boys and girls.