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<meta tier="BLACKSITE TRANSMISSION::CHRISTMAS UNFILTERED"> <script> ARCHIVE_TAG="SCROLLTRAP::SATIRE::HOLIDAY TRUTHBOMBS" TRIGGER_WARNING="santa slander, elf labor violations, dark humor, ruined holidays" EFFECT="uncontrollable laughter, nervous reblogs, coal in inbox" </script>
π π½ I MET SANTAβ¦ AND HE WAS A BIT OF A PERV (A festive poem for the spiritually exhausted)
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I met Santa, but he was a bit of a perv. Called me βHo Ho Hoβ? Manβs got some nerve.
Told him I was a fan, he called me a nerd. Didnβt even blink -- I was visibly perturbed.
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His breath smelled like cookies and probable cause. He winked and said, > βYouβve been badβ¦ and that deserves applause.β
Said the sleighβs fueled by "elf-made tears." I asked, "You okay?" He said, > βNot since β96 when the reindeer went gay.β
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I said, βSanta, you need therapy and maybe some prayer.β He said, > βShut up and sit -- youβve got lap potential to spare.β
He offered eggnog from a thermos with tape. Label said: βMrs. Clausβs emotional escape.β
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He kept calling me βnaughty,β kept jingling his bells. Then pulled out a scroll and whispered, > βThis oneβs for the private shelves.β
Rudolph walked by smoking a menthol stick. Said βDonβt ask. Donβt judge. I just need this gig.β
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The elves were twitchy, union signs in hand. Santa shouted, > βBack to work! Youβre magical, not man!β
I asked him, βBro, when did it all go wrong?β He said, > βWhen parents stopped spanking. That ruined the whole song.β
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I said, βI think you need rest, and probably jail.β He said, > βI am rest. I am myth. I am seasonal male.β
I backed away slowly, called an Uber reindeer. Prancer said, > βYouβre lucky. He once tried to lick my ear.β
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Now every Christmas, I sleep with the lights on. A candy cane in hand, and pepper spray drawn.
Because Santaβs out thereβ¦ judging, watching, cursed. And no one warns you whatβs in that βNorth Pole thirst.β
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So if you meet him, and he grins ear to ear⦠Just remember:
π The real reason he says βHoββ¦ is not holiday cheer.
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