Guys. This is huge news. I wrote a long, detailed letter to Santa, as I do every year, but this year I got an amazing response back…you’re not going to believe the news:
The jig is up. All these years I’ve dutifully answered your letters and delivered your toys—even though you’re way too old for this crap—and I think it’s time you know the truth about me: there is no Santa Claus—at least, not in the way you think.
You see, I knew that if I were honest from the very beginning, people wouldn’t have accepted me. The world needed jolly old St. Nicholas coming with his rosy cheeks, booming laugh and copious facial hair. But it’s 2013. If Beyonce can release a surprise album, I can tell the world about the real situation in the North Pole.
This is actually Mrs. Claus, the nice old lady you see flanking her hubby in children’s books, only I’m not a Mrs., I’m a single lady. All this time the world thought I was just making spectacular sugar cookies and paper snowflakes (which, FYI, I still do, and they rock) I’ve been running this whole Christmas show solo.
So I was hoping you could tell everybody. They should know who run the world.
PS: Stop writing me letters. You’re 21 and it’s weird.”