Sorry for Skipping the Poor Kids

Nothing's more depressing than gearing up for the Christmas season, getting all jolly and stuff, and getting one of these letters from the little kids who are oh-so innocent: "Santa, can you please bring gifts to all the poor kids this year?"

Ah, Christ. Like I needed that bring-down.

Look, once and for all, I cannot help the poor kids. It's not because I'm some big fat asshole, lord knows. My hands are tied on the matter. Sorry. Life's hard, learn to cope.

Once Thanksgiving is over I got my helpers showing up in droves telling me what kids want, and every one says, "By the way, getting a lot of flak on the whole 'poor kids' thing. Can you do something about that this year?" I kick them out of the office and don't tell them anything else, because it's none of their business. I'm the head elf. They don't need to know the murky depths of the business.

But just for the record, without naming names, let's just say it's very difficult to run a high-overhead operation like this and cutting costs wherever possible is a must. I got the elves and reindeer out selling band candy and magazine subscriptions all year around just to afford the toys in the first place, then I have to work out tax bracket nonsense with each individual government. That's a lot of work.

Not that these guys aren't jolly in their own way, I'm not pointing the finger at them. They've got their own problems. You don't have a major influx of toys every year on the same night and not have big tax issues to deal with, I understand the mechanics of it. So for centuries I've been working out deals on the side to keep operating at whatever cost, and it just turns out the poor kids get screwed in the deal. Sorry, shit ain't fair.

It's not just getting lists and making the toys, folks. There's red tape, always red tape. I've worked out a deal in most countries where a certain percentage of every family's individual income qualifies for toy delivery. As you can imagine, it's a pretty dismal story for the poor kids. It's not my fault you live in a trailer and dad cleans up roadkill for a living. I never said forget the contraceptives, baby, I know when to pull out. The fact is people don't put the thought into having kids they should, and who gets screwed? You kids, that's the fact. Tell your dad he should have been studying for the SATs instead of rocking out to Cinderella.

So the rich kids get richer and the poor kids get squat. Those capitalist countries love it. And the communist countries, now that it's like three or four, I can't even work out a deal with those knobs. They always demand I do something about sanctions and I keep telling them, I don't touch sanctions, not my business. I'm all about the toys. They say when I can do something about improving trade relations they'll let me deliver toys, but hard luck until then. And don't even get me started on Israel—they've been stonewalling me for years.

It's shit. I know it's shit. But sometimes you work with the cards you're dealt. My philosophy is, if I can get 40% of the kids out there presents, it's better than 0%. I'm working on the rest, believe me, I've got lobbyists and everything. Next time you see a diminutive fellow in Washington, you know he's working overtime to bring toys to the poor kids of the world. One of these days, children. One of these days.

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