Dear Rudolph,
Oh, Rudolph, where to begin? I’ve loved you since I was a child, and I can no longer stand back and be a passive observer in what clearly amounts to a serious self-esteem problem on your part. A true friend steps in and tries to help another friend in need. Friends don’t let friends drive a sleigh for a petty, cranky, two-faced jackass, even if he is Santa Claus.
When Santa came over to you that foggy Christmas Eve and asked, “Rudolph with your nose so bright, won’t you guide my sleigh tonight?,” I couldn’t wait for the part where you’d tell Santa to stick it up his ass, and run off with Hermey to open a thriving dental practice on the Island of Misfit Toys. So what if Christmas got canceled that year and all the little boys and girls all over the world would wake up to empty stockings by the fireplace. You needed to teach Santa a lesson in how to treat people.
However, you didn’t do that. Instead, to my shock, you were happy that Santa asked you to guide his sleigh! You said, “Sure, I’ll guide your sleigh! I’d be thrilled to!” Then off you went with that creep, who up until then had treated you like you were the bastard child of the Elephant Man.
What gives?
Rudolph, my friend, do you know what it means to be used?
Have you forgotten how, from the moment you were born, Santa was totally freaked out by your nose and let it be known that you would never join his flying reindeer team with that glaring red beak of yours? Have you forgotten the rejection by your own father, Donner, who forced you to cover your nose in black dirt just to please Santa? Have you forgotten how the public humiliation and rejection in Santa’s Village was so enormous that you felt it necessary to leave town altogether? Do you really want to be on a flying reindeer team full of a bunch of jock assholes who teased you mercilessly and refused to let you join in any reindeer games?
Let me tell you something, Rudolph. Your red nose is beautiful. It is what makes you unique, what sets you apart from the others. You are better than all of them. Santa should have known that. He should have stood up for you right away and championed your individuality from the get-go. What kind of a leader wants all of his employees to be exactly the same? Cookie-cutter replicas of each other, blending into the soulless void of nondescript North Pole totalitarianism?
Sure, Santa was all nice that foggy Christmas Eve, but Santa is not your friend. Santa was just kissing up to you so that you could bail him out of a tough situation. Screw him! He will just use you and throw you away. Please, Rudolph, think twice before doing another favor for Santa. Think about this: If you rearrange the letters in “Santa,” what do you get? I don’t think that’s an accident.
Your true friend,
A.F. Passafiume