Dear Santa Claus,
It has been brought to my attention by one of our
operatives that you have secured for yourself, and your
interests, a very lucrative position in the toy and
game industry. Normally, my associates and I would not
involve ourselves in child-exploitation schemes such as
yours. However, it is quite clear to us that you have
over-stepped your bounds and are coming into my
family's territories. That I cannot let you do.
Mr. Claus, we've known each other for many years, and
we have no problem with your operations in the North
Pole. But, uh, Consigliere tells me that you have
expanded your deliveries to the entire south side, most
of the north side, and everywhere but the Jewish
neighborhoods.
I understand, Mr. Kringle, that you and I share many
interests. We both make lists. We both know who's been
naughty and who's been nice. Have I mentioned, that,
uh, red is also my favorite color? This year when you
make your rounds, I hope you'll take time stop by the
house for a cup of coffee and some cookies, so that,
uh, we can discuss an offer I know you can't refuse. I
know how much you like cookies. I am sure you will do
this thing I ask out of respect, but I would be remiss
if I did not remind you of the tragic demise of our
mutual friend and confidant, Frosty T. Snowman. I
regret that it was necessary to teach Frosty a lesson.
Sincerely, and with warmest wishes for you and the
lovely Mrs. Claus,
Don
P.S.
It would be most unfortunate for you to wake up one
morning to find the heads of eight tiny reindeers in
bed with you. I am sure you are a reasonable man, and
this will not be necessary
