We Toon Lampoon journalists, either due to an inherent childish disposition or due to a need for hope after working here so long, have all been writing letters to Santa. One would expect them to be sent off, but our heartless editors normally burn them on the fire instead. To be fair, we don’t exactly have the budget for fuel.
This year, however, they have not been in the office to burn them, so they have been sent off to the North Pole. Our editors found out about this, and to make up for it, we have to publish excerpts from these letters to publicly humiliate ourselves. So much for it being the season for kindness.
One writer, in a glittery purple pen, wrote asking for world peace and an end to global hunger. Clearly, we have an imposter in our midst. No genuine Lampoon writer would ever be thoughtful enough to ask for that. We pride ourselves on being villainous and corrupt enough to not even deserve coal for Christmas. Time for a purge, pitchforks and all.
Another letter seemed to have been written in a hurry and has tear stains on the side. It is less a letter and more a cry for help. It includes lines such as “please may I have chain cutters to help me escape this place” and “naps for more than 30 minutes every other day”. They make the Lampoon office seem like a hellish place to work, but it definitely is not! I promise!
We must also add that this journalist mentioned something about freeing the Northumbria students from our basement. In response, we direct you to our already-issued public statement absolutely refusing to do so. In true Lampoon style, it consists mostly of typos and swear words.
The last letter is almost normal in its requests, which is certainly bizarre considering how normal people don’t last a day in the office. There’s the usual mentions of money, clothes, games and the like. Also “a new brother”.
Wait. That’s my letter.
If my long-suffering brother is reading this, it should come as no surprise to you since I’ve been trying to wish you away to the Goblin King for years. It just hasn’t worked out. Sorry bro.
We hope you have enjoyed this brief insight into the depraved and twisted minds of The Toon Lampoon journalists, your ever-loyal servants. We can only hope our wishes have been heard. Knowing our luck, it’ll be Krampus, not Santa, paying us a visit.