Santa Claus here. I want to get something off my chest. (Is the money in my account yet? Judith?)

What you heard about me and those Christmas Eve flights around the world, Donder and Blitzen and them, going down chimneys and so forth -- well, I am sorry to tell you there's more to that story. Not that I was personally involved. Not me. But I can tell you what really happened at the Claus house. I'm sorry, what might have happened. I hope they catch whoever did it.

So let's just say me, sorry, the perpetrator and Mrs. Claus had lost some youthful vigor and enthusiasm for each other. And me flying around the world like I had to do in my job, well, you know. Stuff happens. Deal with it. She divorced me anyway. Can you imagine that?! Divorcing the Claus?

They said she was found in the breezeway with her throat cut. It would have been cut off completely, not just almost, the b***h, if I had done it. Commando style from behind. And that alleged waiter, don't give me that. We know what he was there for. If it had been me I would have offed him, too.

It wasn't me. I didn't do any of it. Just if it had been me, that's the way it would have happened.

Got to fly,

The Claus