Mrs. Claus was in the kitchen baking cookies, when she heard a commotion coming from outside. She looked out the back door and saw a shirtless and drunken Santa staggering around the grounds, shouting incoherently at no one in particular and swinging his fists ineffectively at the crowd of elves that had gathered to watch. "Not again," she thought, as she steeled herself to go out and hurry him back inside yet again. "Thank God those idiots from Inside Edition aren't here to see this." It had taken a fortune to hush them up the last time this happened.
"Is Santa sick?" asked Jingle the Elf as he helped Mrs. Claus wrangle Santa into bed. "No dear," she lied, "He's just overworked. It's nothing to worry about. Now be a good boy and help me lash him down so he doesn't... fall out of bed."
The next morning Santa delicately made his way downstairs and flopped into his chair at the kitchen table. "Oh, I feel terrible," he said. "My head is pounding like crazy."
"Maybe it was something you drank, dear," said Mrs. Claus, in a tone that could cut glass.
She fixed him a cup of coffee, making as much noise as she possibly could. "Doesn't everyone always say poinsettias are poisonous?" she thought. "This place is lousy with the stuff. It would be too bad if a sprig of it were to fall into his cup. Accidentally, of course."
I made this card way back in 2000, and it perfectly sums up my feelings toward the holiday season... or rather what the holiday season has become.
It was drawn in pencil and inked. Then it was scanned and imported into Photoshop, where I added color. I added the text and border in Photoshop as well.
Many have asked me about the puddle under Santa; whether it's booze or urine. I prefer to let the viewer decide...
it's pee. yer not foolin anyone.
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