I've Been Naughty, Santa

I know the jolly old fat guy is going to put a lump of coal in my Christmas stocking...I've been very bad the past few days.  Here's a transcript of my online chat with Santa:

M = Me
S = Big fat dude in the red velour sweat pants



M: Hi Santa. Glad I caught you on a break at work. Listen, I only wrote a few lines yesterday and I'm not sure how much writing I'm going to be able to get to in the next few days. You see, I'm working on my Sax story (see my earlier entry: Ain't Nothing Like Good Sax) and need to get it done before next week - the 19th to be exact - as it's a gift for someone special. I have good intentions, Santa, and I know they will be very happy that I wrote this for them. But I've been very naughty with my writing discipline here lately.

S: Who is this?

M: It's me, Santa. Remember me from when I was a kid? I was the one that kept her sister and brother awake to listen for the reindeer feet - sorry - hooves - on the roof.

S: No, sorry. Doesn't ring a bell.

M: Short, blonde, six years old and a huge fan of Christmas!!!!

No response...

M: OK - my name is Cathy. I know you are the man behind the curtain so just listen, OK? I'm a writer. As I said earlier, *voice laden with southern sarcasm disguised as a sweet drawl* I've been just a little slack here lately. BUT...even though I've not been writing as much as I should during the last few days, I did write my first novel in a month. I gathered my courage to read the murder chapter of my novel at an Open Mic night. I give sincere encouragement and credit to my writer friends as much as I can. Does any of that count?

S: Nope. One oh-shit wipes out a thousand atta-boys.

M: What??? Who wrote that rule, Santa?

S: It says in my book of kids gone wild that it was a guy named Murphy who coined that phrase. Had a law named after him.

M: Whaddya mean, Murphy's Law? Come on, dude. Really? It's only been a few days I've slacked off. *whine* Please, will you bring me something pretty for my stocking?

S: How about you post a current pic on my personal web site?  Ms. Clause won't mind.

M:  What?  OK.  I just uploaded it.  Look, I just want something shiny, pretty, sparkly, or chocolate in my Stocking Christmas morning. 

S:  Nice picture.  What's your name again?

M:  Cathy.  C-a-t-h-y.  Caaaattthhhheeeee.  The little girl all grown up who believed longer than she should in a man in dirty red sweat pants.  Dude, don't you ever change those things? 

S:  Hey, shouldn't you be nicer to me?

M:  Sorry, Santa.  As I was saying, even a gift card so I could buy it myself would be great.  Can I count on you this year?  The last couple of Christmas's ... well, let's just say you should have changed your name to the Invisible Man.  Nothing in my stocking for three years now!!!  I WANT SHINY.  I WANT PRETTY.  I WANT SPARKLY.  GIVE ME CHOCOLATE!!!

S:  I just moved you from the 'Maybe' column to the 'No Way in Hell' page.  Finish your story.  Talk to me then.  And be prepared to grovel, bargain, and beg because I have connections in the publishing industry!

I HIT THE X IN THE TOP RIGHT HAND CORNER

I am so screwed for Christmas. Anybody need a lump of coal?