A letter from the editor:

 So, I recently visited Santa's Land (cough, in a day-dream, eh-hem, cough). It was a thoroughly eerie experience that was enhanced by a preceding visit to Wal-Mart to pick up my Catawba Valley Community College-theme Snuggie, pictured below:

Don't you love it? It brings out my eyes. 

Anyways, I wanted to go to Wal-Mart because I needed a new accessory to wear to Santa's Land. If I didn't buy the Snuggie (it was $19.99), I would have had to wear my old Depends underwear over a floor-sweeping, tiered jean skirt, which is so last week. 

When I debuted my outfit at Santa's Land, everybody's jaws dropped to the ground. I looked so good! I was even wearing my hot new bedroom slippers, which were a great find at the local Plus-Sized Consignment Store. With those shoes on my feet, I knew where I was headed- the Elf Workshop of Doome. 

As my be-slippered legs crossed the threshold of the workshop, I could just feel the radioactive rays emitting from the mechanical Doome Elves while they crafted cheap toys for the undeserving children (and some adults) drooling at their feet. 

Evil elf employee #4 carving "ham" 

Suddenly, as a modicum of drool passed from the chapped lips of one of the workshop-worpshippers to the tasteful neon pleather shoe of an elf, IT HAPPENED. The elf-puppet EXPLODED into a fountain of fetid feces, flowing freely from and fro. Cacophonous crowds of caca-coated clients raged out of the Elf Workshop of Doome and into the rest of Santa's Land, spreading confusion everywhere, along with the scent of rotting defecation. 

I stood, a calm, fashionable beacon in the epicentre of this holiday-induced quake, observing the scene unfolding around me. The clouds suddenly opened, and a gigantic storm poured down upon the burning remnants of Santa's Land, a place that had held so many sentimental memories for me. 

I recall a voice booming over the land:  THE POOP MONSTER WAS HERE. 

And that was the last time I visited Santa's Land. 

Your loving editor, 

Sally MacFiber