Mr. Satan Santa Claus
The Claus Haus
North Pole (and not the stripper kind)
Arctic Ocean, Some Country 3.1415
Dear Satan Santa,
‘Puter has been really, really, extra-special good this year.
‘Puter feeds Sleestak nearly every other week, often before Sleestak collapses from starvation. Mind you, it’s difficult to tell when Sleestak’s hungry, since all he ever does is wander around hissing, but ‘Puter tried his best. ‘Puter also clipped Sleestak’s claws after Sleestak unintentionally (‘Puter thinks) disemboweled Volgi’s white Persian cat Mephistopheles. Fortunately, ‘Puter was able to replace Mephistopheles with that slightly rabid opossum that bit Dat Ho before Volgi noticed.
‘Puter let Dat Ho hide in ‘Puter’s Rumpus Room (conveniently located next to the Castle’s laundry facilities and fusion powered boiler room in the seventh sub-cellar) that one time when Czar was hunting Dat Ho with a blowgun for short sheeting Czar’s bed. Sure, ‘Puter immediately went and told Czar where Dat Ho was hiding, but it’s the thought that counts, right?
‘Puter even tipped the restroom attendant at the Leaping Peacock $2.37 (that’s all the money ‘Puter could shake out of the UNICEF donation bucket) after ‘Puter and Czar ruined the place during the ill-conceived “All You Can Eat and Drink Bean Burritos, Sauerkraut and Ipecac Irish Coffee Night.” Never issue a challenge like that to ‘Puter and Czar. It will not end well for anyone, especially the poor restroom attendant.
Anyway, ‘Puter knows Satan Santa Claus is a busy man, so down to business. ‘Puter would like, at a minimum, the following items:
- Eleven kegs of 16 penny nails, 522 pounds of ground glass and 15,000 ball bearings. ‘Puter is almost out of grapeshot for his punt gun, and it’s nearly duck season.
- One SA-21 Growler battery and sufficient missiles to down a squadron of the United Nations black helicopters that Czar says doesn’t exist. Stupid Czar.
- One Hello Kitty Digital AM/FM Clock Radio with Night Light like this one. Czar took ‘Puter’s old Hello Kitty night light because he said ‘Puter was too old to sleep with a night light. Stupid Czar.
- A Remington 1911 R1 Carry Commander and a Hello Kitty tanker holster. ‘Puter likes the upgraded features, and he needs a round a bit larger than the 9mm to keep Dat Ho out of ‘Puter’s stash of Hello Kitty animé. That scamp has a tough hide for a small Asian boy. Pew! Pew!
- Meat. Your choice, Satan Santa. ‘Puter knows that a fat guy must know his way around a meat locker.
- A Leaping Peacock gift card in the amount of eleventy gajillion dollars. In the event you don’t have eleventy gajillion dollars, just pay off ‘Puter’s bar tab instead.
- A handmade Black Watch, 3rd Battalion, The Royal Regiment of Scotland (3 SCOTS) No. 1A ceremonial dress uniform, lovingly crafted by the finest military tailor in Edinburgh. ‘Puter’s not sure if you’re down with the British Military uniform regulations or not, so check out page 9 here.
- A Great Highland Bagpipe, to go with the aforementioned dress uniform. ‘Puter’s really been wanting a good set of bagpipes so he can make Czar’s dream of rerecording The Beatles’ White Album in Russian and Scots Gaelic using only balalaikas and bagpipes. Czar’s convinced it’s how John would’ve wanted it. Stupid Ringo.
- A hot tub, a tanker truck full of Diet Coke and fifteen pallets of Mentos. ‘Puter’s trying to get lucky with Fifi, the local bar wench down and the Leaping Peacock. Or is it Belinda ‘Puter’s trying to get lucky with? Hard to know. ‘Puter’d better ask Czar which one it is.
- Fifty ampules of penicillin, in case ‘Puter manages to get lucky with either Fifi or Belinda.
- A French maid’s outfit for ‘Puter’s personal secretary, Miss McGee. What? It’s what she asked for. ‘Puter guesses she’s got some dusting and cleaning to do around the rumpus room. Mrs. ‘Puter refused to pick one up for ‘Puter to give to Miss McGee. Someone’s going to have to get it, and ‘Puter’s too lazy to shop, so you’re up, Satan Santa.
- World peace. Ha! Fooled you! ‘Puter likes the world as messed up as it is now. It gives him something to get fired up and write about.
- Scale wax for Sleestak, along with a new set of claw clippers. The rascally bastard stole the last set of claw clippers and won’t tell ‘Puter where he’s put them.
So anyway Satan Santa, thanks in advance for all the presents ‘Puter’s sure you’ll get for him this year. And please make sure to bring all the other Gormogons everything they ask for, too.
Always right, unless he isn’t, the infallible Ghettoputer F. X. Gormogons claims to be an in-law of the Volgi, although no one really believes this.
’Puter carefully follows economic and financial trends, legal affairs, and serves as the Gormogons’ financial and legal advisor. He successfully defended us against a lawsuit from a liquor distributor worth hundreds of thousands of dollars in unpaid deliveries of bootleg shandies.
The Geep has an IQ so high it is untestable and attempts to measure it have resulted in dangerously unstable results as well as injuries to researchers. Coincidentally, he publishes intelligence tests as a side gig.
His sarcasm is so highly developed it borders on the psychic, and he is often able to insult a person even before meeting them. ’Puter enjoys hunting small game with 000 slugs and punt guns, correcting homilies in real time at Mass, and undermining unions. ’Puter likes to wear a hockey mask and carry an axe into public campgrounds, where he bursts into people’s tents and screams. As you might expect, he has been shot several times but remains completely undeterred.
He assures us that his obsessive fawning over news stories involving women teachers sleeping with young students is not Freudian in any way, although he admits something similar once happened to him. Uniquely, ’Puter is unable to speak, read, or write Russian, but he is able to sing it fluently.
Geep joined the order in the mid-1980s. He arrived at the Castle door with dozens of steamer trunks and an inarticulate hissing creature of astonishingly low intelligence he calls “Sleestak.” Ghettoputer appears to make his wishes known to Sleestak, although no one is sure whether this is the result of complex sign language, expert body posture reading, or simply beating Sleestak with a rubber mallet.
‘Puter suggests the Czar suck it.