by David Kish
Dear Mr. Santa Claus, Sir,
We're one week out from C-Day, so I'm writing to officially inform you of my Christmas gift request.
This year, I simply desire "Crud." Crud, as I'm sure you are aware—what with your extensive history in product handling and all—retails in a green bucket with red lettering.
Although Crud is advertised as "better than crap," I don't need to tell you that it rates at a consumer satisfaction level only nominally above crap. Further, while Crud's "old" claim is better than "mold," it's not exactly better than "cold." After my extravagant, libertine wish-list of last year, you may be wondering: Why the change?
In short: I've been naughty this year. Quite naughty, really. I'd rather not go into the details, though I suppose you know them anyway - what with your alleged clairvoyance and all. I'd say I was worse than a trespassing reindeer, but better than a felonious elf.
Which brings me to this disturbing point: I feel that the decadent gifts you brought me last year were partly responsible for my naughty behavior. In fact, my lawyer informs me that many of the gifts - such as the Survivor Series Backstabbing Knives, and the Johnny Justice Megaphone & Handcuff Set - were directly responsible for much of my naughtiness. Nevertheless ...
Yours in the Season,
A Concerned Customer