It was late at night on Christmas Eve, I was dreaming of the soft, white snow.
I was awoken by a noise near the Christmas tree, what it was I did not know.
It was Santa Claus, he was bringing me some gifts, unfortunately I did not know that.
So I quietly snuck up behind him, and I shot him five times in the back.
It went pow pow pow pow poooowwww.
He said, “What the ****?!? OW OW OOOWWW!!!
Then I shot him three more times in the head.
Pieces of his brain flew out and he was dead.
That’s when I noticed his blood-soaked beard, and his red suit filled with bullet holes.
I said, “Oh my god, I’ve killed Santa Claus, I’m not going to jail for this Asshole.”
So I went to my shed and I got my saw, and I started to chopidy chop chop.
I started with his arms, then his legs, then his head and then his torso was a really long job.
And the blood went spurt spurt spurt.
It was really hard work work work.
It was hard cutting through his spine.
I must have vomited sixteen times.
I burned all the pieces in my fireplace, the smell of burning human flesh filled my nose.
Eleven hours later there was nothing left, and that’s when I heard my telephone.
It was Auntie Jean looking for Uncle Bob.
She said he left the house dressed as Santa Claus.
But he didn’t come home last night.
Have you seen him? God, I hope he’s alright.