Virginia: Daddy..?
Dr Phil: Shut up, you little brat, I'm as drunk as your mother was when you were concieved.
Virginia: Daddy, the other little girls at school tried to tell me that Santy Claus wasn't real, but I was able to almost completely ignore their obviously true statements. However, I know feel a slight sense of disillusion towards the Christmas Season. Can you assuage my fears?
Dr Phil: Alright, Vaginia, here's what I'll do. Instead of playing the "good parent" and telling you exactly what your frail, spongelike mind needs to hear, I'll refer your question to the editor of a newspaper, because I am still under the mistaken belief that newspapers exist to inform us of what is true, not to sell papers.
Virginia: Okay Daddy, I'll go wager the innocence of millions of children in New York on your drunken gamble. Thank you for being so honest.
Dr Phil: *grunts and passes out*
So, little Virginia, full of hope and naïveté, wrote off a letter to the New York Sun. Here's the transcript of her letter, preserved with all the original Christmas Spirit:
Dear Editor:
I am 8 years old, and still too young to see through the veil of innocence that every other child my age has torn through already. Some of my little friends have attempted to tell me that there is no Santa Claus, but me being so quite sincerely dull, I'm refusing to listen to them and instead relying on the proprietor of a commercial newspaper to tell me what's right or wrong. Papa says, "Why the hell can't you stay at your mother's more often?" Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?
Virginia O'Hanlon
Obviously, with a letter like that, any editor would have the balls to crush this little girl's dreams. Unfortunately for us, Francis Church (the editor in question) failed to have the guts to kick the shit out of this poorly worded letter, and instead fed her little naïve mind. His response is here:
Vaginia, your little friends are just trying to rationalise their own self doubt. They believe that it is impossible for a fat man to fly around the Earth in an enchanted sleigh, pulled by magical reindeer, visiting the home of every Christian, in one night. Clearly, they are wrong. Of course he can break into the house of every single child in the world in one night."If it's in the Sun, it's so." That's our slogan, and so help me God if you don't believe it.
Yes Vaginia, there is a Santa Claus. He lives at the North Pole (the South Pole when the Easter Bunny decides to throw a wicked Kegger), and commands a massive slave army of Elves (in time, they shall prefer to be called "Little People"). He really makes millions of toys each year, and carries them around in a single sack.
How DARE your little friends suggest that there is no Santa Claus. They might as well suggest that your Mother never made a drunken pass at your father eight years ago. Without the tantalising thought of "I'll get presents if I'm good", how else would parents be able to keep their bratty children in line? The shining light in the eyes of parents everywhere after using that line to get their kids to shut up is testiment to the miracle of Santa Claus.
You might say "but if he's real, how come I can't see him?" Why don't you try getting your dad to pay men to sit inside your house all night looking for him? It's as good an idea as any I've ever heard, and it will definitely work. Just remember, though, "he knows when you are sleeping, he knows when you're awake."
No Santa Claus? Of course he's real. I'm a journalist, I don't make stuff up.
Needless to say, our buddy Francis got laid, bigtime, after that, and Virginia was harassed for the rest of her life by people who'd read the letters in the Sun. Merry Christmas, everyone!
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