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UberMas 06- Confessions of Santa Claus (586 hits)

Category: Humor

Rating: 1 on 5 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Labels:

Submitted by awesomeface (View user info) at 2006-12-15 18:08:52 EST


"Lorraine Bracco?" Chris Kringle said awestruck as he entered the dimly lit office. "Are you really a psychiatrist?"

"Santa, if I can handle Tony Soprano then I think I can handle a guy who has earned millions of life sentences on numerous counts of breaking and entering."

"Hey fuck you! I don't break shit through the chimney."

"Mr. Claus...I see we have alot of work to do."

"No we don't you dumb bitch! You were a damn psychiatrist or whatever on HB to the fucking O!"

"I'm a therapist Mr. Claus."

"Heh...the rapist..." Santa laughed under his breath.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing. Can we get started now. The Mrs. back at home is probably cheating on me already. I've only been gone a few hours."

"Well your wife is a great place to get started. Why don't you sit down on the couch so we can talk."

"Alright let's start with the bulbously huge whore." He said while taking a seat and lifting a bottle of Jack Daniels from under his hat. "Well first off, she's a whore for the little dwarves at the shop."

"You mean elfs?"

"Yeah whatever, but shes got that mycrophobia where she is addicted to sex with little people."

"Mr. Claus I assure you that mycrophobia has nothing to do with sex with little people. Or sex at all, plus it's a phobia. You're probably just stupid or drunk. Which one is it?"

"The third one."

"Alright then...both." She glanced down and wrote something on a clip board. "Mr. Claus do you know why you were recommended here?"

"Cause I got three DUI's in my sleigh and I pay Tony Soprano for protection money. He recommended you."

"Santa you tell a convincing story but try not to play into the story line of an HBO series if you want to be taken seriously."

"Isn't that what you are doing? 'Acting' as a therapist. Heh...the rapist..."

"What was that?"

"NOTHING! Jesus Christ women. You ask too many questions. And he would agree with me on that too."

"Who?"

"Jesus, he's my homie. Well not really. He is just a pasty jew who is trying to make off with money from the holiday season. Damn jews..."

"Racism, alcohol, driving under the influence, pretends to live in an HBO series, and you're incredibly stupid. I've got ALOT of work to do."

"Oh and I'm pretty violent too."

"How so?" As soon as Lorraine finished her question the bottle of Jack Daniels split open across her face knocking her unconcious.

"Heh rapist." He began to mumble to himself while he was snatching the clip board from the therapist (rapist...heh). "Tony Soprano is a procrastinator. He never hit the bitch over the head with a bottle of Jack after all those seasons. I did it after five fucking minutes." The clipboard in hand Santa took a seat on the couch. It read...

"Admitted to therapist (Bracco) after the Christmas 2006 munchie incident. Whereas apparently Santa first visited a house in San Francisco. The cookies in the kitchen were apparently 'special'. The rest of the runs he made that night ended up with entire familes receiving snacks and tacos wrapped in boxes. Other gifts laid under the tree were apparently missing after Mr. Claus's runs."

The rest of it was written in clear and understandable english which Santa was too drunk to read. Santa stood up finally and opened the exit to the office. He stumbled into the hallway where police officers were on their way to respond to the rucus inside the office.

"Detroit Police Department! Put your hands up where I can see them now!" The officer said firmly with a pistol pointed at him.

"Fuck I'm in Detroit. Sucks to be you guys." Santa reached into his pants and pulled out another bottle of Jack Daniels. But he did so very fast and the officers confused it for a concealed weapon. Six shots were fired at Mr. Claus. The first struck him through the neck...an exit wound. Blood and Jack Daniels dripped from his throat. Two more struck him in the lungs which didn't even drip blood, just Jack Daniels. One shot him square in the belly. It was like poking open a hole in a wine barrel...full of Jack Daniels. The last two rounds hit him in the legs and out came...Jack Daniels???

"What the fuck? The officer exclaimed. "He's got hollow legs. Creepy bastard."

"Tell me about it." The other officer sighed. "There is no way all that alcohol flew from his body. Santa HAD to have been born in Detroit."

for sake of comedy, i hope that is a bottle of JD he is holding.jpg (61 kB)

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User Reviews


Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2006-12-18 09:12:57 EST (#)
Ranking: 2

No Comment

Submitted by Casus_Belli (user info) at 2006-12-16 17:00:57 EST (#)
Ranking: 1

Shrug

Submitted by awesome_face (user info) at 2006-12-15 20:25:13 EST (#)
Ranking: 2

Jes Mam!

Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-12-15 19:11:52 EST (#)
Ranking: 2

I want an awesomeface for Christmas.

JUST GET IN THE GODDAMNED BOX

Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2006-12-15 18:54:47 EST (#)
Ranking: -1




Flanders:
Y'know, Simpson, I feel kinda silly, but, uh, you know, what
the hey, you know ... kinda reminds me of my good ole
fraternity days.

Homer: D'oh! Oh my God! He's enjoying it!

Dead Putting Society