Enlightening Nonsense

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When I was younger, the Tooth Fairy used to leave a quarter under my pillow for every tooth I put under there. Because my parents were cheap Jews who were as miserly with my allowance as they were in all money affairs, I would often beat up kids in school, knocking their teeth out and putting them under my pillow for some extra spending money.

It was sweltering summer night when I was eight when I put a tooth under my pillow and decided to wait up for the Tooth Fairy. As I didn’t know when she would come, I drank about eight cups of coffee to make sure I didn’t doze off and miss her. I didn’t know anything from coffee except for the fact that my parents drank it and there was toothpaste that was supposed to remove the stains it caused and so I just added the grinds to water and chugged it down. It wasn’t “instant” and so it basically tasted like water with pencil shavings in it. Regardless, it did the trick; I was wired and there was no way the Tooth Fairy was going to slip by me.

And then she came, all glowing, flapping her wings. And when she reached under my pillow to extract the tooth, I said, “Not this time, bitch!” as I swept her up in my butterfly net that I was hiding under the blanket.

She was a bit surprised and let me know it. “You leave me useless teeth and I give you money you can use to buy candy with—what the fuck are you doing?”

I said, “You see, I finally figured out your game. You give us candy, which causes our teeth to fall out so you can get more. I don’t know what your angle is, sister, but I rather keep my teeth in my fuckin’ head if it’s all the same with you.” I took her to the sink in the bathroom, where I filled it up and drowned the little bitch. Well, you could imagine my surprise when Tommy Williams punched out my tooth and out of habit I put it under my pillow and the next morning there was a quarter there!

The next day I announced to everyone that a tooth had just fallen out and that I was leaving it under my pillow that night, so word would get around to the Fairy replacement. That night I did the same coffee grains routine and, lo and behold, the hand that slid under my pillow belonged to my mother.

I considered drowning her but she was much bigger than the Tooth Fairy and it would require me filling up the tub with water and at the time I was somewhat of a conservationist and couldn’t justify wasting that much water on murdering my Mom. So I didn’t say anything and just let her little Fairy farce continue on for years. Hey, as long as I was getting paid I didn’t really care.

So last year around holiday time, I paid Santa a visit at the North Pole. You might ask, “Why didn’t you just talk to him when he came to New York?” which would seem a sensible question but it would not take into consideration a couple of factors. First of all, while I disowned the “Jew” in me, Santa followed the old: “If you came through a Jewish vagina—you’re a Jew” proclamation and wouldn’t be coming to my house. Secondly, the guy is totally busy trying to fill all the houses empty of love with presents so that everyone can forget, if just for a night, how miserable their lives are—I couldn’t even get past his secretary if I tried!

So I went to him. I brought a couple of gallons of eggnog with me, which was a pain in the back but it was my T-Bone to get by the dogs, as I once met an elf in a bar and found out that they have some genetic defect that makes them get totally fucked up on eggnog. After nogging the elves, I slid in to Santa’s house.

Mrs. Klaus offered my some hot cocoa and I told her, “Sure,” just to get the annoying hag out of my hair. When she went off to the kitchen, I went upstairs to their bedroom where Santa was taking a nap. “HO HO HO,” I said, waking up the sleeping Santa.

“Well hello, young Jew. What are you doing here?” the fat man said.

“First of all, I ain’t no Jew. Let’s get that cleared up right now. Secondly, I came here to kill you, maybe give Mrs. Klaus a bang, and then make myself a sundae with a Rudolph nose on top and get the fuck out of here.” If this was a movie, there would be some more dialogue between Santa and myself, running the whole gamut of self-reflection, begging and finally him bursting out, “FINE DO IT, YOU FUCKIN’ JEW! FIRST YOU PEOPLE KILL JESUS AND THEN ME!” But it wasn’t a movie and I wasn’t in the mood to read any scripted lines from a Hollywood Jew and so I just took out my Louisville Slugger and bashed Santa’s fuckin’ skull in.

I went to his closet and put on one of his red outfits, as I didn’t really think I had time for a shower while Mrs. Klaus laundered my clothes like a Chinaman, and got the fuck out of Dodge, or rather the North Pole.

I don’t know if Mrs. Klaus had heard fatty’s cries of pain and amscrayed, but she was nowhere around. On the table was a cup of hot cocoa. There were no little marshmallows floating in them so I figured she probably didn’t have the good stuff. But then I went to the kitchen pantry and saw she had several boxes of the hot cocoa with little marshmallows and was just giving me the shitty stuff. Another Anti-Semite. I made a decision to come back next year and brain her with my bat as well.

I stuffed a sack with Santa’s body and threw it on the sled and took the reindeer for a ride back to New York City. It took me some getting used to, riding the sleigh and all, but I found that if you whip a reindeer hard enough, it would do just about anything for you. I taunted Rudolph the whole way, telling him how tasty his nose was going to be on the top of a pile of whipped cream on my sundae. He was crying and since it was cold, this caused his tears to form a sort of hail as it fell from his face. Little crybaby! I told him to stop crying or I’d make venison burgers out of him but the little bitch kept wailing.

I parked the sled near the East River and then kicked the sled with all of the reindeer attached except for Rudolph into the icy waters where they drowned. I turned to Rudolph. “You see losing your nose is not the worst thing in the world. Now give it up!” Rudolph walked over to me with his head bowed and I took out my Bowie knife and cut off his juicy red nose and popped it into my mouth then and there. “Not as sweet as I imagined,” I said. “Here, let’s bring you over to the cold water of the river to stop that bleeding.” I walked Rudolph to the water’s edge and when he bent his head down, I pushed it under and felt like a cowboy riding a bull as he bucked trying to get another breath of air. He didn’t and finally his body stilled and I threw him in with the others. I considered fucking his dead body but you have to be a pretty sick fuck to be into bestiality.

Now it was just me and the fat man dead in my sack. I could have thrown him in the East River as well but I had a special burial place for this fat fuck. And so off we went.

I knew this Jewish family that had built a tapered chimney so that Santa would get stuck in it. What they didn’t count on is that Santa would never go down their Jew chimney as Jew chimneys are like Jewish dicks all circumcised while all the Christian chimneys stand there uncut. But now the Reingolds were going to get their wish. I took a ladder to the side of their home. It was a pain in the ass dragging Santa up there. Cutting off his arms and legs and taking them on separate trips definitely helped.

I dumped his fat carcass down the chimney and sure enough, he got stuck midway down. I marveled out the brilliance of the Reingold’s design. It seems that Jews were designed to kill Christian legends. I got the fuck out of there and went home and drank some hot cocoa with marshmallows and went over to my calendar and marked next Christmas Eve to brain Mrs. Klaus, just so I didn’t find myself busy dropping rocks off an overpass onto moving cars or something and forget about teaching that bitch a lesson for holding out on me.

And now a year has passed and Mrs. Klaus is also roasting in the Reingold’s chimney. I was walking around all smug when I saw some of the little Spics in my area playing with clearly new toys. My face dropped. “Where did you get those little toys, little Spics?” I inquired.

“SANTA CLAUS!” they shouted in unison. Unbelievable. It seems like my mother wasn’t satisfied just being the understudy of the Tooth Fairy. Now that bitch was starring as Santa Klaus as well! I kicked myself for not drowning her when I had the chance as an 8-year old. I looked at my Louisville Slugger, which still had some clumps of hair and brain from Mrs. Klaus and said out loud, “Well, Mom, it looks like you may have a visitor soon.” I could have said it in my mind but I thought it added to the whole eeriness of the moment by saying it aloud. I almost laughed in horror movie way, you know, HOO-HOO, HA-HA, HEE-HEE, but I’m not a fuckin’ cartoon character. I’m just a guy who killed Santa…and his wife…and the reindeer. That doesn’t make me a monster, does it?

Since I’m averse to anything “Jewish,” I figured I’d stay as clear of Chanukah as I can. Maybe next year I’ll take a bat to Kwanzaa, that is, if I can figure out exactly what the fuck that holiday is all about. I don’t think they have a black version of Santa Klaus, because as we all know, if a black man is seen climbing down someone’s chimney, the cops will shoot him about sixty times and then shout, “FREEZE! DON’T MOVE!” those racist bastards.