This week, McSweeney's Internet Tendency is featuring some stellar letters to Santa written by Shakespeare characters. Authors Caroline Bicks and Michelle Ephraim have really outdone themselves with these great pieces that could be a great guessing game to use with your classes!
How does my lord? I am fine. I believe 'tis possible you did not receive my wish list last year, or that it fell into unsavory hands and was rudely tampered with before reaching you, as all you brought me was a chastity belt and some granny underpants. I pray that this one flies to you untainted since this year hath really sucked. I wish for the following:
— He's Just Not That Into You (book and DVD)
— "All About Me" Lock and Key Diary
— National Geographic Flower and Leaf Pressing Kit
— Coastal Deluxe Automatic Inflatable Life Vest
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Dear Santa, sweet, sweet Santa:
This Christmas, we wish for nothing more than peace, love, and understanding (LOL). We pray that you will fly like a nimble-pinioned dove to bring our parents copies of Chicken Soup for the Vengeful Soul. And perchance a little Valium for Lady Capulet?
Should Time slow her swift-footed pace, and night's cloak agree to hide you, do you think maybe you could bring us some stuff too?
— Taylor Swift's "Love Story" video and poster.
— DVD of The Secret Life of the American Teenager (Season 3)
— Quick-Escape Portable Ladder
— Motorola IMfree Personal Instant Messenger
— Plethysmograph Pulse Recognition Processor
Romeo and Juliet
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Everyone says you don't exist, but I believe in you. We share many a talent, my jolly friend: I, too, am a merry wanderer of the night, and sometime fit I into tiny spaces to break into people's homes. I don't leave gifts (unless you count that turd I left in Mistress Quickly's ale pot Monday last). I can steal most of the stuff I desire, but I need you, O round sprite of the night, to gather me these two things:
— An Indian boy (Not for me, it's a present for my boss. Must be authentic, and not a cheap Chinese knock-off.)
— A meeting with a TV executive. I have a rollicking idea for a show: "2 1/2 Pucks." It's about me, Wolfgang Puck, and that elfin young man from Real World: San Francisco. We would all live together in a loft in the Meat Packing District. Hilarity ensues.
In return for these gifts, I will happily humiliate your wife (if that type of thing amuseth you).
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I had this crazy dream that I ate your reindeer. But then this morning your face appeared in a puddle of maple syrup. So I licked you up.