Ravenous Demon-Santa

“I heard you got in a car crash and tragically died.”

“Well, not quite — it’s true that I was in a severe accident, but I survived.”

“Ooh, then you must have had a near-death experience! Tell me, what was it like? did you get to look into the light at the end of the tunnel?”

“Um, no, I didn’t. But I did have a terrible vision — I’m not sure if it was a dream or an actual taste of the spiritual world . . .”

“Let’s hear what happened!”

“Well, there was a fountain of fire, and evil was everywhere: I could feel it in my soul, which was in torturous agony. There was mass suffering, nonstop punishment, and blood dripping like rain from the sky . . .”

“Did you meet any supernatural beings?”

“Yes — listen: I was just getting to that. I met a little red Santa, and he was ravenous. He tried to bite my hand, but I pulled it back. Then he stared into my eyes while breathing hard, and he said: ‘Look at me, you liar. I’m pure wickedness, because your father the Devil created me in his workshop. But he refused to fill my stomach with sweets, as my toy soul requested. Instead, he stuffed me full of packing-peanuts, all of which he cursed with the gift of sentience: so now my distended belly will not stop growling in greed. To allay my hunger, I acquired a flesh pot, but somebody stole it. Now I’m famished — Oh, what I’d do for a pasta dish topped with meat sauce! — but down here in Hades, there’s no food (except for those stiff protein bars that taste like money). I’m so starved, I could devour all the plastic that’s been dumped in the oceans. But, in truth, I’d prefer a bag of kosher frankfurters . . . maybe some Thanksgiving chili . . . and a side of fish-pork to eat with my pitchfork . . .’ — At this point of the tirade, I regained consciousness in reality: I found myself strapped down to a hospital bed, and the little red Santa of my vision turned out to be a Catholic priest.”