A Letter To Santa (A Story)

Tossing Salt Presents:
A Letter To Santa (A Story)
December 24, 2021
Merry Christmas

I had an idea for a story. And here you go. Just a fun little fiction tale to hopefully make you smile. Enjoy. Merry Christmas.


Young Hobbes came running into his small office.

“Where is it? Where is it?”. he muttered to himself as he frantically started rummaging through stacks of papers piled upon his desk.

“I know I left it here somewhere”, he said as he continued to look through paper after paper.

“A shopping list for Thanksgiving. The song lyrics for Save Me by Jelly Roll. An autographed picture of Missy Hyatt’s next-door neighbor.” He named off as he kept shuffling the papers around. “I can’t find it! I can’t find it!”

“What you looking for neighbor?”, a voice came from behind him.

Hobbes looked up and standing there was the hero of millions of children, Mr. Rogers.

“My Christmas list for Santa”, Hobbes replied. “And what are you doing here? You’re dead!”

“I know I’m dead”, Mr. Rogers responded. “But I realized that you were doing some kind of Christmas story and I wanted to make a cameo appearance. Plus I wanted some milk and cookies.”

“Milk and cookies? Really?”, Hobbes said, raising his eyebrows in doubt.

“Well, maybe cocaine and hookers”, Mr. Rogers quietly admitted. “I’m meeting Elmo up the road in a few minutes.”

“Elmo?”, Hobbes asked.

“He has the best hookers”, Mr. Rogers replied. “They know how to make it a wonderful day in the neighborhood! And Elmo has the best drugs too!”

“Drugs? Mr. Rogers, I’m so disappointed in you. And Elmo too.”

“Didn’t you know that Elmo is the biggest drug dealer on Sesame Street? The biggest pimp too. Those hookers make me feel all special inside. And that coke takes me to the Land of Make Believe even better than Trolley did.”

Hobbes just shook his head in disbelief.

“So neighbor, what are you looking for?”, Mr. Rogers said, trying to change the subject. “You were going through that desk rather hard.”

“My letter to Santa”, Hobbes replied. “I meant to mail it a few weeks ago but forgot. And I need to get it in the mail as soon as possible. Christmas is only a few days away.”

“Don’t worry about it neighbor”, Mr. Rogers replied.

“I have to find it. Otherwise, I’ll never get an official Red Ryder BB Gun. I won’t get anything I want.”

“A BB Gun?”, Mr. Rogers said. “You’ll shoot your eye out, kid”,

“You had to go there?”, Hobbes smirked. “I hate that damn movie. Now either help me find my letter to Santa or leave.”

“Don’t worry about the letter”, Mr. Rogers said.

“Why not?”, Hobbes asked. “Why not worry about the letter?”

“Because mailing a letter is so old-fashioned. Use your computer and send an e-mail instead.”

Hobbes stopped shifting papers and looked up, a thoughtful expression coming across his face. “That would be faster.”

“And cheaper”, Mr. Rogers added. “Have you seen the price of stamps lately?”

“But I don’t have his e-mail address”, Hobbes said sadly. “Do you have it?”, he asked Mr. Rogers.

“Of course”, Mr. Rogers replied.

“Can I have it?”, Hobbes asked.

“No”, Mr. Rogers replied.

“No?”, Hobbes asked. again. “Why not?”

“I don’t want to”, Mr. Rogers replied. “Besides, you don’t like hookers.”

“I like hookers”, Hobbes said quickly.

“I don’t believe you”, Mr. Rogers shot back.

Suddenly, music filled the room, and strutting out of a dark corner of the room is WWE Hall of Famer, The Godfather.

“Did someone say hookers?”, he said as he led several scantily clad young women into the room.

“I did!”, Mr. Rogers quickly said. Then pointing at Hobbes, he added, “He doesn’t even like hookers!”

Hobbes started to argue, but was quickly hushed up by a quick look in his direction by The Godfather.

“Hold on a moment kid”, he said. “I have to get my catch-phrases in.”

Hobbes gave the WWE Hall of Famer an affirming nod and Godfather began.

“Any pimps in the house! I know I’m not the only one. Cause Pimpin’ ain’t easy!”

“Is that it?”, Hobbes asked.

The Godfather nodded, saying, “I know there should be more, but it’s been a long time. I can’t remember the rest of it.”

“Oh”, Hobbes sighed, while Mr. Rogers added, “It happens to the best of us Neighbor. Just the other day, I couldn’t remember where I left my sweater. It was scary.”

Both The Godfather and Hobbes stared at Mr. Rogers.

“I found it later at Lady Elaine’s house”, he said.

Godfather quickly jumped in before Mr. Rogers could continue. “So who is the one wanting to meet my ladies? Is it you?”, he asked, pointing towards Hobbes.

“I’m just trying to write a letter to Santa”, Hobbes quickly replied, pointing at Mr. Rogers. “He’s the one who came in here talking about hookers and cocaine.”

“Mr. Rogers? You?”, the Godfather asked. “My childhood is crushed!”

Mr. Rogers just shrugged as the Godfather continued. “Elmos?”

Mr. Rogers just smiled a small smile and said, “His girls are so special.”

“Just a bunch of damn muppets”, Godfather replied. “But if you want special, I know just the girl for you. One of my freakiest ho’s.”

Mr. Roger’s eyes lit up and a wicked grin came across his face. “I’ll take her. Who? Who?”

Godfather smiled and waved towards the doorway. Suddenly, a scream rang out as WWE legend and Hall of Famer Mae Young came running into the room.

“Puppies! Puppies! I want to show my Puppies! Who’s going to let the dogs out. Woof! Woof!”, she shouted, looking around the room.

“Those aren’t dogs or puppies”, Hobbes smirked. “Those are rabid dingos!”

Godfather pointed at Mr. Rogers and Mae’s eyes lit up.

“Wait a minute neighbor”, Mr. Rogers said, “A frightened expression coming across his face. “I didn’t mean… .”

“Puppies!”, Mae shouted as she leaped into the air, landing on Mr. Rogers with a Thesz Press.

Mr. Rogers screamed and pushed her away as he pulled himself up and quickly started running, heading out the door. Mae was in hot pursuit, screaming, “Puppies!”.

Godfather laughed and smiled. “I’d better go after them”, he said. “Good luck with the letter to Santa. Come on girls! And never forget, Pimpin’ ain’t easy!”.

And with that, the Godfather ran out the door in pursuit of Mr. Rogers and Mae Young, quickly followed by his original ho’s who had been watching all of this in amused silence.

“Well, that was interesting”, Hobbes muttered to himself. “But I still need to write that letter to Santa and get it out.”

“Really? Really” Really?”, a voice said as The Miz walked in.

“I was wondering when you were going to get here”, Hobbes sighed.

“Really? Do you think I enjoy being in your little novelette? I’m a busy man!”, Miz replied.

“So why are you here then?”, Hobbes asked.

“Because I’m the Miz… and I’m AWESOME!”, Miz smirked.

“Well thank you for being here”, Hobbes responded.

“And now, I have to go kick some brain-dead goof’s ass! You’re welcome!”, Miz said. “At least I wasn’t chased out of here by that creep ass vampire this time.”

“Oh yeah, too bad!”, Hobbes laughed. “But the day is still young.”

“What? What do you mean?”, Miz said and then his mouth kind of fell open. “He’s here, isn’t he?”

“Right behind you”, Hobbes smirked.

Miz turned around and standing there was the vampire, Barnabas Collins. With flaming red eyes and fangs bared, Barnabas was ready to jump on the Miz, but Miz held up his hand and yelled, “Stop!”.

Barnabas froze and put his arms down. “Why?”, he asked. “I have to drink your blood. It’s in my Vampire Code of Conduct Handbook.”

“Really?”, Miz laughed. “Well, how would you like to drink the blood of an idiot called the Blood Hunter?”

“Blood Hunter? Is he a vampire?”, Barnabas asked.

“No, he’s just a talentless moron with a big mouth who thinks he’s something special. The only special he qualifies as is Special Ed.”

“What’s his name?”, Barnabas asked.

“Hannibal”, Miz replied.

“I’ve heard of him. He’s a piece of human garbage”, Barnabas said. “Do you think I should pay him a visit?”

“Would you?”, Miz asked. “That would be awesome!”

“Gladly”, Barnabas smiled, his fangs gleaming in the light.

“Great. Let’s go! See you later loser”, Miz said, looking at Hobbes. “Come on, Mr. Collins. Let’s go show this ass-wipe.”

Barnabas and Miz walked from the room. Hobbes watched them go, shaking his head.

“This has been a weird day”, he muttered to himself. “I wonder what’s next.”

“I guess that’s my cue”, a small squeaky voice called out.

Hobbes looked and saw a small man, clothed in green, with pointed shoes and a strange hat.

“What the hell?”, Hobbes said. “Who are you?”

“I’m Ernie the Elf”, the small man replied. “I’m here to get your Christmas list for Santa.”

“You’re an elf? Really?”, Hobbes asked.

“Yes”, the elf replied. “I’m Ernie.”

“Oh yeah”, Hobbes smiled, an expression of joy came across his face. “You’re the one that lives in the tree. I love your cookies!”

“Wrong Ernie”, the elf replied. “He’s a distant cousin though.”

Hobbes sighed and then, after a moment of thought, spoke again. “You’re the dentist, right? You used to hang out with Rudolph.”

“That’s my father”, the elf said. “I’m Ernie Junior.”

“Oh, cool”, Hobbes said. “So what do you do?”

“I go around and collect Christmas lists for Santa from people who are late mailing them in… like you!”, Ernie answered. “Now where is it? I’m on a schedule.”

“I can’t find it!”, Hobbes said sadly. “I’ve been looking for it, but people kept showing up and… “

“I get it. No list so that means underwear and socks for you”, Ernie smirked.

“I do need them”, Hobbes said quietly, “but that sucks! I don’t want underwear and socks.”

“Sorry kid, that’s the rules. If you don’t tell us what you want, you get underwear and socks.”

“Damn”, Hobbes said.

“Don’t stress it, kid!” Ernie smiled as he put a hand on Hobbes’s shoulder. “I’ll make sure you get something good too. After all I’ve seen the list and you’ve been a good boy.”

“Really?”, Hobbes asked. “Are you sure?”

“Sure”, Ernie said. “Let me show you.”

Ernie pulled out a little notebook and opened it up to Hobbes’s name.

“Oh my!”, Ernie said. “Oops!”

“What?”, Hobbes asked.

“My book has updates and apparently, you spend a lot of time on Facebook and Twitter. Is that right?”

Yeah”, Hobbes said slowly. “So…”

“Well, have you ever heard that song that Shirley Temple sang?”, Ernie asked.

“The Good Ship Lollipop?”, Hobbes asked.

“No, the Christmas one”, Ernie smirked.

“Shit!”, Hobbes replied. “You mean the Nuttin song?”

“That’s the one”, Ernie said. “And based on your Facebook and Twitter posts, you’re a bad, bad boy so…”

“I’m getting nuttin’ for Christmas”, Hobbes finished the sentence.

“Sorry kid”, Ernie said. “But those are the rules.”

Ernie then looked up at Hobbes and saw a small tear starting to form in the corner of his eye.

“Hey man, don’t cry”, Ernie said. “I’ll make sure to slip you something in Santa’s bag.”

“You will? Thank you!”, Hobbes replied, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“Yeah, I will”, Ernie said. “Those memes are funny. To hell with the rules.”

“Man, you’re awesome”, Hobbes said.

“I know”, Ernie replied. “And now, let’s go over to Elmo’s for a bit. I hear he’s got the best hookers and cocaine.”

“Lead the way Sir”, Hobbes said.

“My reindeer is parked right outside. Let’s go”, Ernie said.

Ernie the Elf and Hobbes started to walk out the door but stopped.

“And before I forget”, Ernie said, “Let’s say something to all the people reading this story.”

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot”, Hobbes said.

“Merry Christmas Everyone”, Hobbes & Ernie said together.

The End…

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