HansHill wrote: ↑Thu Feb 19, 2026 12:35 am
Santa deniers always seem to forget that he literally freezes time.
Checkmate.
I'm a survivor of Christmas. This is my eyewitness testimony, written in 1943 in the forest. Everything is true. I can never forget what happened to me.
Deniers claim that their belief that Santa doesn't exist is evidence he doesn't exist. But those people are frankly idiotic.
For so-called Santa revisionism to be true, a conspiracy involving tens of millions of people, each wrapping presents and placing them under Christmas trees covered in tinsel and Christmas lights, would need to happen every single year on the exact same date, which is impossible.
The Ten Months of Christmas
It happened in October 2021, at the time of the Lenten fast. I was picked up from my winter hearth where the stockings hung by the fireplace.
A large man dressed in red, the color of the blood of my brothers, who was the
Santafuhrer, drove down the lane with his whip in his hand. He was accompanied by his large beast Barudolph, who was famous for biting the genitals and buttocks of my nation and people.
Forced to march to the
Sleighschlagplatz, I and 130 other people were forced onto covered sleigh wagons.
"Roasted chestnuts," we cried. But the Elfkrainians only robbed us. We got no Christmas chestnuts, and no sugar cookies for nearly 10 hours. On the first day, we were mercilessly beaten by partridgefuhrers in pear trees.
For the next year, we rode the sleigh through the frigid weather, arriving at the North Pole in November 2021. 90% of the people had died. We were never given hot chocolate or peppermint. On the second day, we were fed only moldy turtle dove meat.
When we arrived at the North Pole, a switching sleigh took us in fives to the death camp, named "Candy Cane Corner." The entire time, we were mercilessly beaten by the Elfscharfuhrers. None of us knew what was in store for us. On the third day, I was forced to build a zoo for French hens.
As an experienced carpenter, I was given access to all of the workshops. I hadn't worked as a carpenter for 20 years, but that didn't matter. Nothing mattered. As more people died in the "factory" of the
Santafuhrers, I grew apathetic. On the fourth day, we decided that the signal for our rebellion would be calling birds.
It was only after we had wrapped approximately 3.5 million presents that I was allowed my ham dinner and hot cocoa with marshmallows. It was then that we all knew we were going to die. On the fifth day, the Elfkrainians beat to death all of the workers for hiding five gold rings.
As we slaves were forced by the Elfkrainians to drag presents to the sleighs, a crackling fire burned day and night. The smell of baking cookies filled the air. On the sixth day, the geese-a-laying chambers were finally ready to accept new "gift recipients."
The fresh snowfall of Christmas Eve told us our time was over. We would be the next to die. On the seventh day, I saw seven swans a-swimming and I knew the golden dream of freedom for the caged bird was over.
In the distance, we heard church bells ringing. That was the signal for us to begin our escape. On the eighth day, I managed to make contact with the lower workshops, where maids-a-milking were mercilessly beaten if they failed to meet their quota.
With my trusty carpenter's pistol, I was able to kill two Elfkrainians, whom we named "Lalkalas" and "Elfenstein."
Finally, I got home.
I see the evidence of the crimes of the
Santafuhrer even now: presents under the Christmas tree.
I can point to them on the ground.