“What do you mean it’s Jolly Fat Man Day? Don’t you mean Christmas?”
“I meant what I said.
“I mean, it’s about the presents nowadays, isn’t it? And who brings the toys? Santa, the lucky bastard!”
“What? He has to deliver billions of toys to all the kids in one night. He’s in a sleigh that is more open than a convertible with only reindeer butts to stare back at him. Plus, he lives in the North Pole away from all civilization with a bunch of midgets! What’s so great about that? If you ask me, I don’t know why he’s so jolly.”
“Are you kidding me? You aren’t thinking about this rationally. He’s always the alpha male in the North Pole. The elves can’t compete with a 300 pounder. He gets to eat all sorts of treats on his ‘special’ night that I’m sure the Mrs. doesn’t let him have. And he probably gets more tail than Hugh Heffner! Women love Santa! That’s why they always want to sit on his lap! It’s probably worth putting up with everything else just for that night. I’ll stick with jolly.”