All I Want for Christmas is a Salmon-Pink Chainsaw | Satire

On Christmas morning, Margarine skipped down the steps in her Disney princess pajamas, pink fairy wings on her back and plastic wand in her hand. She raced into the living room, gasping at sight of the overwhelming mountains of wrapped presents. They were heaped underneath the four Christmas trees necessary to contain them all. The branches of the trees sagged against the boxes, their boughs heavy with ornaments. Margarine’s seven stockings, strung across the mantel, were overflowing with sweets and flowers.

Margarine’s parents stood next to the fireplace. Her mother’s face was glossy with sweat. A bead rolled down her forehead and dripped off her nose. Her father was wringing his hands and slightly bouncing on his feet. They were trembling.

“We hope you are satisfied with your presents this year, Margarine,” her mother tentatively said.

“We’ll see,” Margarine replied vaguely.

Her parents’ terror was audible.

Margarine set to the meticulous work of shredding wrapping paper and carefully checking her gifts against her twelve-foot long wish list. Dresses, hoverboard, dolls, knives, etc. Her parents watched the procedure with wide eyes, clutching each other. Their fate was in little Margarine’s hands.

It was going surprisingly well. Some hours later, Margarine unwrapped the final present underneath the fourth Christmas tree and her parents released the tension in their chests when she showed no reaction. It was over. Against all odds, they had survived their fifth Christmas with Margarine.

She squinted at the last gift, her head tilted in contemplation. “This,” Margarine said quietly, chillingly, “is a peach-pink chainsaw. I wanted a salmon-pink chainsaw.”

Her father’s face grew pale. He sweated profusely. “I—I thought it was salmon…”

“This is not a salmon-pink chainsaw.”

Her mother began sobbing, her arms wrapped around herself. Her father dropped to his knees and crawled to Margarine to beg. She was repulsed by the tears splashing on her bunny-slippered feet.

His hands enveloped hers. “Sweet Margarine, darling Margarine, I will get you a salmon-pink chainsaw. Dear girl, I will mortgage my house to do it.”

“It is too late. You have failed.”

“Please, give me another chance.”


“Margarine, please.”

Margarine walked to the peach-pink chainsaw, flicked it on, the sound deafening, and decapitated each of the four trees. The glass ornaments shattered as the tops of the trees crashed to the ground and the floor sparkled with the fragments.

She turned off the chainsaw and returned to her father, still on his knees, his hands at his throat. She pressed the chainsaw against his chest and shrieked, “You ruined Christmas!”

Photo by from Pexels

Funny Scenarios

I was carefully spoon-feeding my boyfriend the bits of my leftover pizza when my little sister walked by. A piece of pepperoni fell on her head as he refused another bite. My sister made a face. “You people are weird.”

Suddenly, a giant broccoli sprouted up from the ground, spraying dirt all over my neon-plaid farmer’s overalls. I cried, “Stupid carrot!”

I was walking down the street, gulping down an 11.9-inch sub. A cute dog gave me sad puppy eyes, panting for a strip of bacon lolling on the edge of my meal. Those eyes were so adorable that I ended up giving the little dog the whole thing. Of course, puppy eyes sell high on the black market as well.

The large football player walked up to me, grunting like a caveman, “What grade I get on math test, Teacher?” I declared his grade, “A++++++++!” and darted off, hoping that he wouldn’t pound me into the ground for giving him such a terrible grade.

A cat slunk under the bathroom stall, its whiskers brushing against my bare ankle. He chomped at the clipped nails I left for him, purring at the bent metal. “I must be going now, cat.”  I pulled up my shorts and left.

Casually, I slipped out the of the Skee Ball section of the arcade and headed for Pac Man, my favorite game. There was one machine and a fish was taped onto the screen. I took the fish and got 10,000,000 tickets.

The cloaked man relayed the message into my ear, “Thanks for joining this important FES conference. The Flat Earth Society has members all around the globe, just like you.”

I was a naughty kid this Christmas and, as usual, Santa gave me heaps of coal. While my brothers and sisters were opening up their presents, I was wasting my time watching a documentary on global warming and how burning coal destroys the ice caps. Now I know what I’m doing for my New Year’s resolution.

“Mom, it’s cold in here!” My son hugged himself, his teeth chattering from the AC turned all the way up. I turn to him, sighing at his stupidity. “Go to the corner, Jimmy.” I walked him over to the corner of the room. “Why?” he asked, still shivering. I answered, “Aren’t you getting any warmer? This corner is 90 degrees!”

I’m an astronaut. I’ve been missing my family and I want a party when I go back home from this space trip. Up here though, there is no way I could planet.



What’s In My Purse?

I’m not one to flaunt around my femininity, but when I do, it’s with a purse. Some girls don’t like purses, but within my purse, I always have things that I need, such as earbuds for when the insides of my ears get cold, chapstick for glossing my always-dry lips, or spare change for a nice jingling sound at Christmas, only 11 and half months away.

So, what do I have in my purse?

  • My phone
  • My ID
  • Three mechanical pencils
  • Two Chapstick
  • A random highlighter I stole from an office
  • Spare change (eight dollars, six quarters, five dimes and two pennies)
  • A single dream-catcher earring
  • Two pens (one used to write in blue, but it is out of ink)
  • A scrunchie that I never use
  • Earbuds
  • My “bookmark” (basically a hollowed bag of gummies folded hot dog style to serve as a page holder)
  • A purple eraser
  • And a paper for some dentist thing

Honestly, I don’t remember what the paper is for exactly. It’s for the smiles are everywhere program that helps people with no dental insurance. But I have dental insurance…

It was actually for getting the free mints they were serving with the papers.

The Secrets of Santa Claus

Santa Claus may be one of the most mysterious of the holiday figures (including the Easter Bunny, Cupid, etc.). He’s also very popular, considering how many people impersonate him in the winter months. Do you think there are more Elvis Presley or Santa impersonators?

There are some serious plot holes in his story, but that’s to be expected as he’s so mysterious.

Every year on the 25th of December, he manages to accomplish the impossible and travels to every house on the globe whether it is to deliver colorful presents or coal.


I have some theories as to how the jolly red gumdrop does this.

Some theories as to how the jolly red gumdrop travels to every house on the globe in one night:

  1. Santa Claus is secretly The Flash
  2. Santa has the power to clone himself
  3. Santa controls the minds of every parent and forces them to buy presents (or coal) for their children and put them underneath decorated pine trees on midnight on Christmas Eve.


Do you think Santa gets migraines from watching every single kid every single minute of every single day?

And how does he deliver presents in tropical climates without melting in his big red suit?


Another question to consider: How does Santa, a very large man, fit down such small chimneys? Is he actually smaller than people assume? Or can he shrink himself? Or is his large size all a trick of proportions and cameras?

And what does he do when the house doesn’t have a chimney? Climb in the window?

And what if the fireplace is on?

How to NOT get run over by a reindeer this Christmas

Grandma got run over by a reindeer…

Everyone has heard of this song, but do we know how much actually rings to be true? Each year, about a half million people get run over by various types of reindeer, mostly during Christmas to New Year’s Eve ( According to this news story, reindeer attacks are very traumatizing and should be avoided. These people in the report state their case, as reindeer can be fierce with tough hooves and claw like antlers.  Vicious Reindeer 

So how do we avoid such terrible threats? By eating chocolate? By staying inside? By not believing in Santa?

Step 1: Wear protective clothing!

Make sure you stand out from the ground, whether it be snow or grass. The only surefire way to do this is by wearing bright neon orange, because as we all know, red is simply not original. Reindeer look for generic-ism, for people who don’t stand out and look like scrumptious berries on mistletoe. If you wear white or green, you are automatically cast out as a landing pad for Santa and his reindeer on Christmas Eve. Other colors do not work because they are acceptable to wear in public and Santa will frown at his generally distasteful costume once looking at you, and we don’t want to hurt Santa’s feelings, do we? Santa has insecurities too and wearing neon orange will remind him that at least someone has a more terrible suit than him. Of course, do not actually dress up as Santa because the real Santa will see you as a dirty fraud to his expertise and chase you (I know this from personal experience).

Step 2: Keep away from all carrots, apples, mushrooms and greens at all costs!

These foods are the favorites of the reindeer and should not be eaten during the holidays. Besides, they are green booger slop as mentioned by previous post. (Except apples— they are chainsaws.) By keeping these foods away, you not only benefit your diet, but your lower your chances by getting run over by a reindeer. But, if you do have to go near these foods, here are some disposal methods I recommend:

  • Giving a sleigh ride to your food into a nearby potted plant
  • Throwing it outside and covering it with snow (built a snowman over it—I’m sure the reindeer will smash it)
  • Trade plates with a particularly annoying family member or friend
  • Hanging the food by a noose

After you’ve disposed of the food, it is best that you completely disinfect yourself. Shower in Febreeze and tomato juice, but make sure you keep that neon orange jumper on!

Step 3: Refuse to go to any place with reindeer, caribou, horses, zebras, giraffes, or donkeys!

If you have been a sinful little Johnny this year (which I can assure you, by reading TheWebWeavers, you are), reindeer will try to hunt you down! By using whatever relations they have, they will find you and attempt to break your head open, so please keep away from all reindeer-like creatures. If you can, lock yourself in an empty room, or if you get lonely, lock yourself in a room of aquariums. That way, you are isolated from all the land animals and all possible carriers of the reindeer relations. Bring any type of food you want, except the foods mentioned above and eggnog into the room, because you’ll probably be in there for quite awhile. Also, break your phone—I heard the reindeer are getting better with tech nowadays.

Step 4: Believe!

Like the news report highlighted, believe in Santa, his elves and most importantly, his reindeer. I heard that Santa will give a good pummel of reality to anyone who doesn’t believe in him. Honestly, I don’t blame the guy! He’s been watching you all year and most people don’t even give him one day to revel in his achievements! That’s why Santa has reindeer henchmen, ready to hoof you into the snow. As an extra tip, don’t make snow angels, since that is perfect hoofing position for the ones who don’t believe. Their smiles turn into frowns once countered with the shadow of the hoof.

Step 5: Stop at the red light!

I don’t mean the traffic light, silly! I mean Rudolph’s light, shining bright on his nose. Once you see that light, stop right where you are and dart in the other direction, screaming.

Spinette’s School Stresses

Miss me? No?

I know you do and I know you are clawing your eyes out, wondering, when I will come back (Besides mellow yellows). Did you think I was dead?

Let me tell you about a time where I was really dead on the inside, for a should-be-simple-school- group-project. For those who are wondering, this was a group project much like science fair that required two to three meetings. It was done on trifold boards with pictures of various things about a country assigned to us, and was solely based on the holiday season. On the day we were let out for Christmas Break, we would present and pass out homemade foods to the whole school. How jolly!

Well, to be honest, I was dead for quite a while before this. I was plagued with the illness of writer’s block, then sent to the fire to burn with this certain project in my life. It’s was called WHATW or Whatever Horseradish Anticipates To Wed. Of course, being a bridesmaid (leader) and all, I had to do a lot of things for this project, as I couldn’t let my ego hang up to dry after being soaked in shame. Right?

But there were some complications, as all projects do have sometimes. Nobody expects a perfect end result, but this thing—oh, it was just freckled with terrible outcomes! As I didn’t say, this was supposed to be a group project, but mostly it was all just me and a teensy bitsy little guy who could actually twiddle his fingers. For some reason, he was probably the guy who kept me from losing all my sanity. He was the only one who actually gave me something to put on the board.

One time in this particular project, we had to print pictures. A responsible-looking gentleman said: “May I take the task of printing the pictures? I have a color printer at home.” As a proper leader, I said, “Yes you may,” then emailed sternly after our meeting was over. “Get it to me before the next time we meet.” (Which was in two weeks may I add). He responded with, “cool.”

So I waited. In the meantime, I was preparing for Christmas too, smiling at a bunch of different holiday weddings (this was not part of the project). Procrastination and basically being too busy with the holiday weekend stuff held me back by a million miles.

I was also working on a another little project I like to call The Fleekness of Eyebrows. It was a fun-filled writing diary that I had complete control over, unlike the horseradish thing. As a writer, I obsessed over it and gave birth to a new child. In my pathetic defense for not writing blog posts, let me just say, it took some labor.

Nearing the end of the two weeks I was starting to get worried about the gentleman. He didn’t give me his pictures yet! Was he sick? Did he get injured? Was he dead? Frantically, I emailed him, wondering if the simple task of printing pictures has worked him to death. I asked, “Are you done with printing the pictures?” Not a single response came from him.

Soon, the next meeting rolled around. Flustered, I came in a bit late, almost crying when I saw a haphazard stack of colorful paper. IT WAS THE PICTURES. The gentleman was alive, stroking a piece paper with a nice layer of glue. I couldn’t believe it! He was alive! The pictures were right here!

Then I noticed a huge flaw. The pictures were printed on the front and back, so we couldn’t cut it out.


To make a long story short, that’s how I was for the rest of the project.





When Should You Start Celebrating Christmas?

Christmas should not be celebrated until at least the day after Thanksgiving.

Already, when I go out, I see Christmas decorations everywhere, but only a dusty turkey in the corner to represent Thanksgiving. But, as you probably know, dear nonexistent reader, if you’ve ever interacted with a calendar in your life, that Thanksgiving comes before Christmas. But then why are there more Christmas decorations everywhere, even though Thanksgiving has not yet passed?

By acknowledging the existence of Christmas before Thanksgiving, we are throwing Thanksgiving to the side, allowing it to be overshadowed by Christmas.

Now, I have nothing against Christmas, in fact, I adore Christmas. Who wouldn’t love a holiday where a slightly overweight man breaks into your home with absolutely no repercussions? (Make sure none of your possessions go missing after Christmas.)

I just have a problem when people forget Thanksgiving due to their anticipation of Christmas.

You can put up your tree the day after Thanksgiving, I wouldn’t mind, but not before.

Thanksgiving is the ultimate day of optimism when people are forced to think about how lucky they are and it is important enough not to be forgotten.