As part II of my exclusive interview with St. Nick ended we had exercised our minds and our bodies in wholesome physical activity.  I  now present part III of my interview with this rather remarkable figure.

MI:  This is a nice place. I’ve never been here before.

Santa:  It’s a bit above your kind.  Just don’t mention you blog.  Hey, there’s my favorite dancer.  Come over and give Santa a lap dance honey.

Desiree:   How my favorite big hunk of man?  Would you like your Christmas present?

[The exotic dancer known as “Desiree” sits on Santa’s lap and proceed to gyrate against him.]

Santa:  Oh yeah. That’s what Santa likes.  You know what Santa wants?

Desiree:  A private lap dance?

Santa:  A private session with you and a few of your dancer friends.  I  have a couple thousand in cash burning a hole in my pocket and it’s all for you baby.

[Santa pulls out a couple hundred dollar bills and slips them down Desiree’s G-string.  He then slaps her on her butt.]

Santa:   Oh yeah.  Look at that flesh.  So smooth. Did you hear the tone when I spanked her?  So tight.  

MI:  Yeah nice.  Manhattan Infidel wants some of that.

[Manhattan Infidel pulls a dollar from his wallet and tries to give it to the exotic dancer known as Desiree.]

Desiree:  What the hell is that?

MI:  It’s a dollar baby.  Come to papa.  This dollar is going down your G-string.

Desiree:  Are you serious?  A dollar?  Are you homeless?

MI:  Um.  It’s your tip.

Desiree:  You disrespect me by trying to give me a dollar?  Don’t touch me moron.  Is he a friend of yours?

Santa:  Ho ho ho. No! 

MI:  I was interviewing Santa.

Desiree:  You’re a reporter?

MI: I have a blog.

Desiree:  Security!  Security!

Santa:  Now you’ve done it.  Didn’t I tell you not to mention you’re a blogger?

[Two security guards come over.]

Guard One:  What’s the problem?  Is this punk bothering you?

Desiree:  Worse than that.  He’s a blogger!

[The two guards pick up Manhattan Infidel and carry him towards the exit.]

MI:  Wait a minute.  I’m Manhattan Infidel.  I’m universally beloved.   My blog brings joy to millions.  I mean hundreds.  I mean dozens.

Guard One:  Shut the hell up. We’re tired of you blogging types coming in here.  You buy one drink.  Spend maybe ten bucks and whine that you’ve never known the touch of a woman.

[They throw Manhattan Infidel into the alley.]

Guard Two:  Let’s rough him up.

Guard One:  The testicles?

Guard Two:  Great idea.

[They proceed to beat Manhattan Infidel up.  Santa walks past Manhattan Infidel to his limo. He has a dancer on each arm.]

Santa:  Ho ho ho.  Looks like you’re screwed fella.

MI:  Help me!

Santa:  Yeah, right pal.  Kick him in the groin once for me will you?

Guard One:  You got it Santa!

End of Part III.

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