The abrupt crashing of metal into a frozen earth and the clank of metal shards open my eyes to the cool morning. I knew like in any other story that this would be no different, something weird was going to happen, and I will try to read it without laughing and as if it is a non-fictional piece of work. Some people will laugh, mostly Chris Varacallo probably, and others will just look at me- Mrs. Kunkle.

Moving along with the plot; I am awakened to find that Santa Clause has crashed his sleigh into my back yard. As I reached my window I had time to find him pulling his still burning body from the mangled knot of metal that was once the carrier of a thousand dreams. He had been drinking again, this I could tell because he was pissing on my back door.
Despite the awkward tension filling my entire house, a sense of mischief also followed. So I did the next logical thing, and that was to connect a car battery to the door knob in hopes of shocking him. It worked; it was the greatest day of my life.

The story could end right there in my mind, in that exact point and I would be happy, but that would only disappoint friends and family, and that I wont have. So during his comatose state I decided to put make up on him, some fish net stockings, and a French beret. If I'm going to do something I'm gonna do it right. So I put him in the back of my truck and drove to the closest pier, luckily the navy had just reached shore and there were gay sailors a plenty. So I tied Santa to an anchor with leather whips and a couple chains, to make sure he doesn't go anywhere and then I sped off.

I then took a nap, and then like woke up I think and got something to drink. Luckily by this time I had been selected ruler of the world, by default. I mean who else could do it really?

The first thing I decide to do is make today, Styx day, because they rock. I then ordered the death of most minorities, the ones that bother me. I have a list, but no one can see that list. There is a line to cross to make it onto the list, and cause the destruction of your people. Some things you can do to cross the line, is for one, mention the list, or use mustard in a way not directed, stuff like that. If you don't want to cause the end of your people I suggest to straighten up and stop mooching off the government, which is now ultimately me, since I rule the world.

After creating the list I will now perform a miracle to demonstrate my awesome power. I am created in the image and likeness of God and none of you can prove if I am him or not. So for the time being, I am; follow me or go to hell it's that simple. If you don't like that, please tell me, and earn yourself a spot on the list.

To elaborate on the list a bit more not only will you and your entire people be wiped out, you will also be contracted into spending 5 minutes in a wood shed with a member of your choosing from the village people. The Indian is gentle.

Back to the miracles thing, it won't be often that I perform miracles as they make me drowsy and it's hard to rule the entire world being drowsy, trust me, I'd know I rule the world. To me you are all filthy winos picking through my dumpster of good will for baked chicken; and in my supreme kindness I will leave you a half eaten apple core to feast your dirty mouths with.

While I'm on the subject of me I want to take time to mention myself, in all of my splendor before you, open yours eyes for a feast of the heart, soul, and mind. Now advert your filthy eyes and stop undressing me.

Now that several ground rules have been made I will now describe my plan to employ the world. At age 10 all people will take a test. The top 1% shall aid me, the top 5% shall continue more specialized areas of school, the top 15% shall learn a trade, the top 25% then will be used as my own private army and the rest shall receive no more schooling and immediately begin work at farms, mines, or large industries.

Then around 3:30 I wake up from my nap, turns out I don't really rule world and that was merely a dream.

Santa is still at the pier, I wonder what those horrible gay sailors have done to him. No matter to me he didn't really crash land in my back yard, he more or less was walking past my house. It wasn't actually Santa, but he was sort of fat, I guess and old, damn old, yes. Well I probably went too far with that. I should apologize to the family, but I'd have to stand up to reach my phone, and it's not worth that much. His family probably won't mind much anyway he was in a wheel chair at an old age home.

Yeah, none of that really happened, but you could imagine if it had. Oh yes. In all reality it's about 10:30 in the morning and I haven't left my house yet, I try not to look outside, it's filled with filthy vagrants. I'm a pretty normal guy so there isn't much for me to talk about that might be abstract.

I had a fish one time and he kind of would swim upward and then he would swim to the side I guess, that's pretty crazy, eh? Yeah. It sort of would look out of the bowl at me whenever I tapped the glass, well, that's all I have. Thanks for listening/reading (make mental note to read the appropriate answer).