I squirmed restlessly on the hard pew. At the pulpit the pastor raised his hands, adorned with fake claws.
I am happy to share Santa’s love with you. Yes, I admit I am not the real Santa. The real Santa is very busy at the North Pole, busy with the cute little elves in his workshop while Mrs. Santa is busy in the kitchen, baking cookies Santa doesn’t really need to eat and pretending not to know what Santa and his pole are up to with the elves.
I squirmed restlessly. Would Santa Day never arrive? April 18, the day when all good little boys and girls get their tax refunds?
The preacher was going on:
I want to warn you against a dangerous heresy. The REAL SANTA CLAWS lives at the north pole, a pillar made of genuine rust proof nuclear radiation proof tungsten-titanium anchored to the ocean floor and sticking out of where the ice caps used to be, indistinguishable from a natural Santa fur tree.
Some of our congregation have fallen prey to the followers of Santa of the South Pole. A loud CRACK reverberated through the Santa Church. Santa’s pastor went on. That cracking sound you heard was an iceberg calving off from the South Pole, where SATAN CLAUS LURKS, waiting to sink his claws into good little boys and girls who cannot tell the difference between genuine Santas and Satanic Santas!
Oh, children, the world is so full of evil and deception! Not only must you beware of the South Pole Santa — thousands of years ago the good Santa and the Satan Santa fought for control of the planet earth, swinging their poles at each other until Santa ejaculated the Satan Santa to the Antarctic, when Santa became aware of heresies at the West Pole — gullible, suggestible humans who said there is no sleigh, no caribou and that elves were not of the age of consent his voice dropped to a whisper so the congregation leaned forward to catch his words agnostics, people who said it was impossible to know anything! His voice rose again: And even as we are hunting down the heretics of the West Pole, we became aware of the heretics of the East Pole, who said there are an infinite number of toys that we could build ourselves — Yes, I speak of the horrid Stalin Claus and his henchman Allah Claws.
At that point, I fainted from hunger.