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.