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Merry Christmas, you’re all fired.
I look around this room; do you know what I see? A room full of shitbag elf executives about to get the holly jolly axe.
Which one of Santa’s little helpers is going to tell me what Chris Kringle International is trading at today? What’s that? Say it again. That’s right, thirteen fucking dollars per share. THIRTEEN DOLLARS. You. What’s your name? Jolly Gumdrop? Jolly Gumdrop, get the fuck out of my board room. You’re fired. I mean it, get out.
If the rest of you want to keep your jobs, this is the part where you shut up and listen to Mr. Claus… because this is where I tell you how it’s going to be from now on. We’re making some changes.
Production costs have been at an all time high, while our market share is steadily decreasing. And do you know why? We make wooden horses, dolls and choo-choo trains. Kids don’t want this junk. We actually pay elves to widdle this crap… out of imported Norwegian pine… we might as well hire unicorns to sculpt this garbage out of diamonds, know what I mean? It’s totally ridiculous - we’re burning dollars, people.
This morning I struck a deal with Best Buy and Wal-Mart; from now on we’ll be sharing their fourth quarter inventory. All they ask is a few personal appearances, and guaranteed good list for the executive’s children for the next 5 years. That is unless any of you brainiacs can show me how to carve a functional DVD player out of a block of wood at cost.
Image. We’ve lost it. We’re no longer capturing imaginations, and kids just don’t believe anymore. Take a look at these demographics, what are these kids into? That’s right – violence, blood, fast cars, loose ladies. But Santa, you ask, how are we going to recapture these kids?I’ll tell you, we shift the focus to the naughty list.
These kids grow up with no consequences. What happens when they’re on Santa’s naughty list? That’s right, nothing. The parents always bail them out.
Not anymore.
From now on, kids on the naughty list are going to be scared shitless. Imagine this: little Jimmy fought with his sister all year, he’s naughty, he made the list. We send a notice to Jimmy’s parents two weeks ahead of Christmas. Now, late Christmas Eve, little Jimmy is all snug in his bed… sugar plums dancing in his head… POW! Santa’s size 13 boot right in his back. “WAKE THE FUCK UP JIMMY, YOU’RE A NAUGHTY BOY!!” I stick a knife right to his throat and he starts to cry. He literally pees his tiny Christmas pj’s. Jimmy gunna be bad next year? I don’t think so. Is he going to spread the word? Abso-fucking-lutely. Santa’s got a brand new bag, kids. You BETTER watch out. You BETTER not cry.
The reindeer and sled… what year is this, 1830? This is the wireless age, baby. Besides which, we all know the shit runs on magic, so why the fuck do I need to stare at nine furry butt holes everywhere I go? And parking that thing - I won’t even get into it. We need to think outside the box here. Where’s the sex appeal? Listen, here’s the new ride: a red Ferrari, stretched job – “with a tv and a bar”… c’mon… Ferris Bueller… (sigh).
I’m serious, a Ferrari limo and full of hot ladies in bikinis. Forget the deer, and we keep the same names for the ladies: Donner, Vixen, Dasher, Prancer, and so on. See where I’m going with this? We’re talking bikini calendars, DVDs, trading cards, posters, collect-them-all Burger King action figures! These are top dollar ideas, people. I forget, how many reindeer calendars did we sell last year? Exactly.
Welcome to the new Chris Kringle International! As I mentioned a little earlier, I am instituting these changes immediately. Some of you are wondering how we’re going to pay for these new programs. Well, there are going to have to be layoffs, serious layoffs. And I’ll tell you where I’m going to start. Raise your hand if you got the Ferris Bueller reference… congratulations you three, you get to keep your jobs. Everybody else, you have ten minutes to grab your shit and get out of my building. You are people without vision, and I have no room for you – go take a ride on the shit can express, losers.
Oh, and Merry Christmas.
Somebody get Howard Stern on the phone for me. Let’s get some auditions going for these ladies.
. “WAKE THE FUCK UP JIMMY, YOU’RE A NAUGHTY BOY!!” I stick a knife right to his throat and he starts to cry. He literally pees his tiny Christmas pj’s. Jimmy gunna be bad next year? I don’t think so. Is he going to spread the word? Abso-fucking-lutel
So wrong, but so funny!
matt
Once , twice
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Post #: 4
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Posted: 12/16/2005 12:16:44 PM
three tiems annoying. Cheap shot, just kidding. F-ing hilarious. Thanks fo the laughs.
Tom Mc
good job
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Post #: 5
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Posted: 12/16/2005 1:59:28 PM
Santa has been due for an image change
UNameMe
the big spellFUCKINGchecker
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Post #: 6
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Posted: 12/18/2005 5:37:16 PM
It isn't 'widdle' you idiot, it's whittle!
justin
..then...
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Post #: 7
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Posted: 12/20/2005 8:09:50 PM
(After correcting the error, UNameMe then leans forward on his rocking chair, spits into a pail and returns to his wooden double dildo and anal bead carvings.)
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