Christmastime Parable

So, I was walking through the mall the other day and passed by Santa. I happened to overhear him having a conversation with a cute little girl dressed in red and green Christmasy attire, with little ribbons and bows in her hair. Very cute! Well, she had the adorablest question to ask Santa! She said, “Santa, how could I be an elf and go to live at the North Pole forever and ever with you?”

Santa grinned at the little cutey-pie, scooped her up, sat her down on a nearby table and kneeled so he was at eye-level with her and said, “Going to the North Pole and becoming an elf is like a president who set up a birthday party for his daughter. The president sent some of his helpers to those he’d invited to the party to tell them to come, but they refused.

“Then, he sent some more helpers and said, ‘Tell everybody I invited that the party’s ready! There’ll be burgers and cupcakes and confetti, and everything’s ready. Come to the party!’

“But they didn’t pay any attention. They just went off—one to sell cabbages, another to his business. The rest grabbed hold of the president’s helpers, beat them up and then killed them! The president was outraged. So, he sent some people from a secret government agency and pulverized the killers and burned their houses down.

“Then, the president said to his helpers that were left, ‘The birthday party is ready, but the people I invited were a bunch of meanies. Go to the street corners and invite anyone to the party you find out there.’ So the president’s helpers went out into the streets and gathered up all kinds of people, and the White House was bursting with guests. Among the guests: retired Major League Baseball pitcher Nolan Ryan.

“But when the president came in to see the guests, he noticed Nolan Ryan wasn’t wearing a party hat. ‘Friend,’ he asked, ‘how’d you get in here without a party hat?’
Nolan Ryan was speechless.

“Then the president told the attendants, ‘Tie this motherfucker’s hands and feet, and throw him out into the darkness, where people will cry and grind their teeth together.’

“You see, little girl,” Santa said, his eyes narrowing, menacingly, “many people get invited, but only a few get chosen.”

The little girl’s face was bright red, a red to match the ribbons streaming from her hair. Her face was pinched in a tortured grimace and tears flowed down her cheeks. Santa then had sex with her.

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