VOL. IX, NO. 6
DECEMBER 15, 1967

Santa Leaves Job Opening
By DAVE LASHWAY

To whom it may concern:

This is to inform you that I, S. Claus, am resigning.

For the past few years I have been getting sick and tired of trying to visit every home in the world in one night. It's not easy. Since the drug clampdown, it's been getting even harder.

Flying's dangerous. Take last year, when I was shot down over a war zone. That's the last time I go near New York City.

I am up to my ears in complaints. Complaints from parents, threatening to kill me if I hand out one more war toy which can incite aggressiveness in their children. They whine that dolls are becoming too advanced. Ridiculous.
 Well, I've got a few complaints of my own. Have you ever had a mid-air collision with Sally Fields? Have you ever sat two hours in a cold sleigh waiting for permission to land?

Look, when I applied for this job, the ad talked of "working one night a week; air conditioned office; little work. Lead a gay night life." Good grief! Do you know how long nights can get up here?

Besides, with a fat, old wife and stupid little elves crawling around the place, I can't lead a gay day life! Can you imagine a guy who has to get his kicks by regularly shooting down some funny-looking kid in a Sopwith Camel?

Well, I've had it. You can let those grubby little kids drool in someone else's ear. I'm gonna fly south, find a cozy little place to settle down, and ho, ho, HO! When the time comes that I no longer believe there really is a Virginia, it's time to quit.