Dear Santa Claus,
It has been brought to my attention by one of my operatives that you've secured for yourself (and your interests) a very lucrative position in the toy and game industry. Normally, my associates and I would not involve ourselves in child exploitation schemes such as yours. However, it is quite clear that you're cutting into my family's territories. This encroachment is something that you cannot be allowed to do.
Mr. Claus, we have known each other for many years. We have never had a problem with your operations in the North Pole. However, my consigliere is now telling me that you've expanded your operations to the north side, south side and pretty much EVERYWHERE but the Jewish neighborhoods.
I understand, Mr. Kringle. We both share many interests. We both make lists. We both know who's been naughty and who's been nice. Have I mentioned that red is also one of my favorite colors?
When you make your rounds this year, please stop by the house for a cup of coffee and some cookies, so we can discuss an offer I know you won't refuse. (I know how much you love cookies.) And while you're here, you can also explain why I never got that Super Nintendo that I wanted for Christmas as a child. I begged for one for (at least) 4 years in a row and never got one. I am sure you will also remember that I was a very good boy all those years. None of the charges brought against me ever stuck in court since the witnesses kept changing their stories. (Or disappearing...)
I am sure you will grant this small favor out of respect. However, I would be remiss if I didn't remind you of the tragic demise of our mutual friend and confidante, Mr. Frosty T. Snowman. Regretfully, it became necessary to teach Frosty a lesson. And it would also be most unfortunate if, one day, you woke up with the heads of eight tiny reindeer in bed with you.
Sincerely, and with warmest wishes for the lovely Mrs. Claus,
Don
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