The Santa's Clauses Chapter 6

Conceited Whores!  Selfish Adulterers! Egotistic Bastards! Narcissistic Fornicators! I had just found a street corner that looked ideal – sheltered from both the sun and the breeze, and out of the way of greedy shop-owners, in an area that was practically within spitting distance of two junk food outlets. Children were already dragging their parents toward me when the shrill voice of this woman practically rent the air in two. I assumed this woman was one of those who did not use Facebook to insult her kith and kin, if only because she preferred to do it live. Santa Claus, Father Christmas… call him whatever you want. You are mocking the Almighty. The majestic figure; the white facial hair; the despicable sack that imitates the cornucopia from which Zeus drank.  The cap which is of Saturnalia origin. Lies, obscene lies. She pointed her finger at me. Hey, this was getting close to home. And nasty. Repent. Repent, I say, for the end of the world is nigh. It comes as a thief in the night. You heathens, you Philistines, you unbelievers, you Barbarians… you... you… you atheists and pagans. You decorate an evergreen tree with lights and gewgaws, and sing carols unto it. You have...