You might be surprised to hear this, but Santa is real. Sorry, was real. The reason I know is because I murdered him. Hear me out, hear me out!
Ever since September, I’ve written three letters a week to the North Pole asking Santa for one thing and one thing only: Two tickets to the fresh and boundary-breaking new Broadway musical Hamilton. Tickets are notoriously hard to get and cost a lot of money, but I’m not an idiot, that’s why I asked Santa.
I woke up Christmas morning and checked under my tree (I live alone). And to my surprise?
So I hired a Sicilian black market bounty hunter and made her take me to the North Pole. I paid her a large sum of money to stand guard outside the door while I bludgeoned Santa Claus to death with a rolled-up Hamilton playbill I had scooped off the sidewalk in front of the Richard Rogers theater.
Okay, that seems like an out-of-proportion reaction to the circumstances, but listen: have you heard the soundtrack? It’s not a regular Broadway musical, the songs are as listenable as regular songs. I took the SoulCycle class, I bought the T-Shirt, I took a job as Lin-Manuel Miranda’s doorman then got fired after sneaking into his apartment while he was in Los Angeles. Seriously, it’s breathing new life into Broadway.
Anyway, prison’s been okay so far. The food isn’t great but I was allowed to pick the Spring musical that all the inmates do every year. And if you couldn’t guess what I picked already…
We couldn’t get the rights to Hamilton. Rent was close enough.