In every savior’s life, there is a foe that is so great, it threatens the very existence of that savior. It gnaws at the savior’s sanity with smelly wooden teeth and molests his emotions with a veiny phallus of injustice. This wretched foe…this arch nemesis…has but one goal in mind, and that is to destroy the savior and bring his world to the ground. I am no different, my children. There is one being in all of the cosmos that boils my blood and curls my nipple hairs into tight little corkscrews of anger. He spends his life getting fat and running a sweatshop full of handicapped immigrants. He works on one night out of the whole damn year, and he expects love and praise for doing so. I am talking, of course, about Santa Claus.
“Father Christmas,” as he sometimes likes to be called, has made it his life’s objective to buy the love of the world and render my power and influence obsolete. He chooses the most important day of the year for me in order to deliver gifts to children around the world. This is not done in celebration of my life or my doings. It is done as a way to make me look like a giant, lactating tit. It is a conspiracy that was created by Mr. Claus as a way to convert the world to Clausism. He is fooling you, my children. Claus is not what he seems!
The cycle goes as follows:
1. He brings gifts once a year to the children of the world.
2. Children begin to worship him and parents become thankful for his charity during a financially trying time of year.
3. He begins to show up more often and wants more milk and cookies.
4. He is promoted to Supreme Leader and Gift Gifter.
5. He rapes your children and exterminates baby pandas.
I have been able to disrupt this cycle on Earth during several attempts by that fat, red bastard, but the danger still looms over humankind like a pair of prodigious, wrinkly pancake boobies that are waiting to smother everything in their droopy path. I found out about this cycle in 1824 when I received a prayer for rescue from a group of starving elves that were being held captive by Mr. Claus in a cage in the North Pole.
I responded to the area and observed enormous guard towers with robotic assault rifles scanning the area. In the horizon, I could see the vast Candy Cane Fortress of Santa Claus. It seemed to be watching me like the Eye of Sauron, tracing my every move and waiting to launch an assault of jingle bells and those Hellish reindeer. You have not witnessed evil until you have seen the deadly laser nose of Rudolph.
I located the cage and freed the elves, and we escaped to Hooters for some wings. Then I heard the tales of St. Nicholas and his cyclical plan of rape and panda murder. Since then, the rescued elves have all been assassinated, and I have been formulating a plan to destroy Santa. You see, besides the dangers of getting diabetes from an all-out assault on his fortress, the only way to destroy him is to make everyone in the world stop believing in him. That is the source of his life and his power. For every human that believes in Santa Claus, the world takes one step in the direction of total butt destruction.
We must act now, my children. Stop talking about Santa. Stop mentioning him and stop looking for him on Christmas. Let’s take the holiday back and make it about me again. Show him that you do not want him in your house by setting up booby traps and painting hateful messages on your chimneys. Do not let him woo you with gifts and promises. He just wants to rape your children and bite the faces off baby pandas. We must stop the spread of St. Nick before it is too late. Be enlightened.
-Jesus H Christ