Young Mary had a dream. An angel told her that she was pregnant with God’s baby.
“But I’m a virgin,” she said.
The angel shrugged. “The Boss likes ’em young.”
Her family tried to get her to see a doctor, but she didn’t want them anywhere near her miracle baby.
“God will take care of His child,” she said.
As her belly grew larger, Mary grew weaker.
Until one day, she was dead.
The baby turned out to be a rapidly-growing tumor in her intestinal tract.
Nobody wanted to be the first to ask for their baby shower gift back.
Category: Christmas
Santa Survives
Santa Claus watched horrors spread across the globe.
Humanity completely lost its shit all at once, and aside from a few hundred thousand survivors, every society had collapsed. The toxic clouds and radiation waves would finish the rest off soon enough.
Santa tore up his naughty and nice lists, and set his elves to working on a space ship.
“We’ll set up shop on the moon or Mars,” he said.
The elves made a spaceship.
A toy spaceship.
“Fuck,” murmured Claus, and he coughed up some blood.
The elves fought over the remaining reindeer meat before they got sick too.
Geronimo
It started with accusations of slave labor.
Then, reports came out that he’d molested some kids.
The final straw was when CIA evidence proved the workshops were producing chemical weapons for Syria.
“Santa’s been very bad this year,” said the president. “Let’s go get him.”
The United Nations Security Council was useless.
China had the toy contracts, and threatened to veto any action.
While the world debated, Special Forces flew in and got their man.
“You’re all on my naughty list now,” was the last thing he said.
The investigatior’s report said that he died from an elf-inflicted gunshot wound.
Spoiled Milk
It’s Christmas Eve.
Most people leave milk and cookies out for Santa.
“It’s a tradition,” they say.
“Doesn’t the milk spoil out there?” the children ask.
Does Santa like spoiled milk?
No, he doesn’t.
People aren’t keeping the tradition right.
It’s not supposed to be a glass of milk out on the mantelpiece.
Santa wanted fresh milk.
Not from a cow, though.
“What a lovely baby,” Santa would say. “I might have a gift for them.”
Kid can only suckle one side at a time, right?
Maybe when he’s done, he might want your cookie.
And that’s how traditions start.
Christmas Town
Unlike Mecca, which is only for Muslims, Christmas Town welcomes people of all faiths, or of no faith at all.
People. Not robots. Because robots are the enemy of Christmas.
They knock down trees, smash presents, and sing all the carols off-key.
The Robot Police go from door to door, holding magnets to peoples’ heads and confronting them with paradoxes.
“Repeat after me: ‘This statement is false.'”
In recent years, cybernetics have advanced significantly. It’s harder to detect robots.
Which is fine. As long as they’re peaceful. And celebrate. And make merry.
Which is what Christmas really is about, right?
Battery Club
Around Christmastime, kids ask for the latest gadgets.
So, their parents order them through Amazon Prime prewrapped, and stick them under the tree.
Most come with batteries, and those that don’t, people usually have spare batteries in a drawer, or they can pull them out of last year’s gadgets.
For the times when the right battery isn’t to be found, there’s The Battery Club.
Call them up, and they deliver the right batteries.
Nowadays, a lot of stores are open for last-minute battery shopping.
But it’s nasty out. Who wants to drive in that?
Make The Battery Club do it.
Santrum
The editorial board at the New English Dictionary had debated for weeks about their newest entries, and every conflict had been resolved.
Except for one: Santrum.
One group wanted it to mean the tantrum that children throw when they want to visit Santa at the mall.
Another group wanted it to mean the fit that frightened children throw when placed on Santa’s lap.
And a third group wanted it to represent a fit that a mall Santa throws after being pissed on.
“We should be a bit more specific about that last one,” said the editor-in-chief.
(He was into watersports.)
Black Santa
Whenever I go to the mall to sit on Santa’s lap and tell him what I want for Christmas, I ask for “The Black Santa.”
The mall added him to their Christmas Village a few years back, and he’s got better drugs than the regular Santa.
“What do you want for Christmas?” asks Black Santa.
“Just my two front teeth,” I reply.
He hands me 2 pills, and I hand back a twenty.
I swear, on these pills, I can fly higher than a reindeer.
They found his body on New Year’s.
Must have gotten on his supplier’s naughty list.
Crapmas
When I was very little, mom took me to the mall. Two strangers picked me up and stuck me in Santa’s lap.
I screamed.
Santa asked me “What do you want for Christmas?”
“DON’T TOUCH ME!!” I yelled.
“No, what do you want for Christmas as a gift?”
I said “I already got Hanukkah gifts. Sucky socks and sweaters. I had to write thank you notes. Mom made me write them again because I said they sucked.”
Santa waved his hands angrily.
The strangers picked me up again, I yelled even louder, and we were thrown out of the mall.
Red and Green
One of the most unusual ways to mark the holiday season would be to feed a meal to your guests that will make them piss green and shit red.
The idea came to me after I pissed green for days after St. Patrick Day.
“I’m halfway to Christmas,” I thought.
Then I passed out, because I was drunk off my ass.
After I recovered, I had to piss again.
Red and green piss came out.
“Christmas colors!” I said. “I did it!”
My urologist says it’s prostate cancer.
And it’s spread quickly.
Now, I’ll be lucky to see next Christmas.