“Don’t F me over again.” Ed Mountaineer writes a letter to Santa and it’s pretty much what you’d expect.

Dear Santa,
 
This is Ed, but you know that, right? Because Santa is like god or something and knows everybody’s name? This is Lance. Not Ed. I got rid of Ed. Just kidding. It’s Ed. But you knew that.
 
Anyway… It’s Christmas time again and I have a few issues I need to go over with you. I’m just going to get this out of the way. You totally fucked me last year and this year you need to step up your game or lose me as a customer. 
 
Let me explain what happened last year even though you already know because you’re Jesus. I asked you for a real girlfriend who would not be able to see me when I pushed an invisibility button (also part of my request) on my sweatpants. I don’t think you understood the purpose and importance of both these items, and since you delivered neither, I will go through it in detail (even though you can read my mind and don’t need me to write it but you let me do it any way in some power play you need to feel good about yourself). 
 
The girlfriend:
She needs to be hot. And don’t do the thing where she’s literally on fire or something and you go, “You said she needs to be hot” and then you laugh like the devil. Wait a second. Are you the devil? Anyway, just pick someone who’s a model or something. That’s all I have on the girlfriend part.
 
The sweatpants:
I’m sure you get this request all the time, but I want magic sweats that also give me the power of invisibility. I thought why I need this would be obvious to you, but I’m going to explain it to you slowly. I need alone time when my hot girlfriend is cleaning or whatever she does when we aren’t boning. Do you understand now? If I’m invisible she can’t be like, “What are these weird portraits of Ryan Reynolds you’ve painted and hung all over this secret room I found when I pushed in on the stuffed monkey head on your wall?” And all that other bullshit. With my inviso-sweats, she’ll have no one to say that to, and I’ll be just relaxing or whatever.
 
The delivery:
Do not drop these off at my work. Mainly because I don’t work there anymore. And also because if you did it around a bunch of other people it would make it uncomfortable for me to complain. So I want to meet just the two of us. You name the place. It can be a Taco Bell if you want, but not a Build a Bear Workshop because you may animate the bears and have them kill me. I also need time to test everything out. Mostly the sweatpants. If you want to add a button on them that also allows me to stop time or cook French fries in the pockets or something, then cool. 
 
Our friendship:
I’m willing to be friends again if you can work this out for me and maybe apologize profusely. I think that’s probably the best way forward and it would allow you to get a lot of guilt off your chest and also address some of your deeper, underlying issues, like your inability to come through on things, until this year, right? 
 
My penis:
I guess make it bigger while you’re putting together this whole thing for me. And don’t do the thing where you give me a fourteen-foot cock that leaves me bed-ridden and then you go, “You said you wanted a bigger penis” and then laugh like the devil. 
 
Ed Mountaineer is an opinion columnist for the Intergalactic Business Report. He was hired after we encountered him at a Taco Bell. He can be reached at ed@intergalacticbiz.com. If you would like to hire Ed, please see his résumé here.

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