Sorry, Virginia

Alas, Santa won't be coming to Astoria this year.

Fozzie and I were walking back to his place from dinner at Wave Thai on Sunday when we came across the remains of the Christmas in September Massacre.

We were the first on the scene -- the cops hadn't even arrived yet -- but it was pretty clear that Santa wasn't recovering from this. Looked like homicide to me. He was just left there on the sidewalk to die.

Of course we'll have to wait for the coroner's report to come back, but I wouldn't be surprised to find out that maniacal looking doll half-hanging out of the remains of Santa's bag had something to do with it. Like maybe he was some sort of Spawn of Satan™ sent on a mission to kill Santa who got caught up in his own plan and couldn't get away before everything went south. I mean, just look at his face.

It was totally unnerving. Santa just laying there, with his cold dead eyes staring up into the sky, wondering what had happened to him. Where it had all gone wrong. Wondering, I'm sure, why he'd wasted his best years trying to satisfy generations of ungrateful, selfish, greedy children who would grow up to ravage the earth and fight war after war after war, always striving for mastery and slaughter.

I'm just saying.

I doubt that the Powers That Be™ will be very anxious to announce Santa's death, so I wouldn't bother looking for any more info from the news.