What was created as a cute way for children all over the world to track Santa’s progress has presented me with a great opportunity to settle a score.
You must have thought it was pretty funny back in 1984 when all I wanted was a Nintendo Entertainment System and you shafted me.
I woke up that Christmas morning and ran down the stairs, grabbed the big box under the tree, ripped off the gift wrapping and tore open the Nintendo box only to get covered in goo as 120 surplus aborted fetuses slopped out all over my lap.
Yeah. Hilarious, asshole.
My parents were so shocked, all they could do was laugh and laugh and laugh. Such was their horror! I still remember my poor mother’s laughter, I know it haunts her as much as it does me.
Well, to quote some 80’s action movie I can’t remember right now, “Payback’s a bitch!”
I’ve been patient, plotting your demise every day since then. I knew I couldn’t just go and ask you outright for an RPG-29 Vampir, lest you catch on to what I was up to.
For the last 23 years, I’ve asked you for seemingly random mechanical parts. Of which you and your clueless ass have been all too willing to oblige. Some nuts and bolts here, an aluminum tube there. Together with some household chemicals, industrial grade fertilizer and many nights spent in the public library learning about thermobaric rounds and centrifugal timing devices, I’ve made my own and you’re none the wiser.
Well, tonight all my hard work is going to pay off.
Thanks to the work of the good folks at NORAD, you’ve lost the last shred of hope for your survival: the element of surprise.
I know exactly where you are, I know exactly when you’ll be here. I’ve got your location, trajectory and velocity.
You, my friend, are going down.
When all this is over, I’m going to go spit on your grave wearing a coat made out of 8 (formerly) flying reindeer.
This will hopefully close the book on a painful chapter of my life and allow me and my parents to go on. You know how awful it is to listen to your parent’s hysterical laughter every Christmas, while they point at you and call you a dumbass? Do you know how hard that must be for them?
You have torn the soul of my family apart. With your death comes our only hope of being whole again.
See you at 3:37 am, EST, jackass.