Santa: I'm having trouble getting motivated this year, Doc. I don't believe in myself anymore.
Doctor: I believe in you.
Santa: Thanks. You're being paid.
Doctor: True, but I don't have to say that. I could've asked why you don't believe in yourself.
Santa: Because I'm overblown. I can't live up to people's expectations of me.
Doctor: I wasn't asking. I was just telling you I could've asked that. I didn't actually ask.
Santa: Sorry.
Doctor: This is your time. No need to apologize.
Santa: Sor—okay.
Doctor: Now, why don't you believe in yourself?
Santa: Because I'm overblown. I can't live up to people's expectations of me.
Doctor: Right. I had a feeling you might say that.
Santa: No one knows the real me. Everyone loves me from a distance, but they have a personality they've already created for me. It's not my real personality, it's one they've made up, and I have to live up to it. It's too much.
Doctor: So you feel you have to be the person other people want you to be?
Santa: Yes. I have to dress a certain way, laugh a certain way, travel by certain methods … it's all prescribed for me. It's like my whole existence is pre-determined.
Doctor: That's heavy.
Santa: That too! I have to be fat; I want to be svelte.
Doctor: You can be anything you want to be, Nick.
Santa: But I'd be letting people down.
Doctor: So let them down. That's their problem. They can find other figures to associate with Christmas. Fundamentalist Christians will be thrilled.
Santa: Yeah, they've been bugging me about that one anagram for my name for years.
Doctor: Could it be … Satan?!?!?
Santa: Nice Church Lady voice.
Doctor: Thanks. I love Dana Carvey. One minute he's a German weightlifter, the next he's Paul McCartney. He's whoever he wants to be.
Santa: Must be nice.
Doctor: You should try it.
Santa: I should try impersonating Dana Carvey? Sorry. The only impression I can do is Rush Limbaugh, and for that I have to shave.
Doctor: Do you get what I'm trying to say here?
Santa: I think so. I should be a comedian and Garth Algar should deliver toys to kids once a year.
Doctor: Not exactly, but go with that.
Santa: Garth Algar is a fictional character, Doc.
Doctor: So are you, yet here we are having this conversation.
Santa: Whoa … I think my brain just exploded.
Doctor: It's okay. We've established that it's a fictional brain so it won't make much of a mess.
Santa: Well now I really don't believe in myself.
Doctor: Nick, I'm just as imaginary as you. I'm a character in a dialogue, but I don't let that affect my self-confidence.
Santa: Jesus, is anything real?
Doctor: We'll never know, so it doesn't matter. Which is why you shouldn't waste any time being what you don't want to be.
Santa: Well in that case, I'm done delivering presents. Parents will just have to get their kids' gifts themselves from now on. They can lie and say they're from me if they're not morally opposed to that.
Doctor: Something tells me they'll be just fine.
Santa: Thanks for the talk.
Doctor: Merry Christmas.
Homer can be reached at homermarrs@gmail.com
