Written 2020/12
I know this will sound ridiculous, but what isn't around here? Investigations has sent in a report on mysterious disappearing letters around the world— all with one connecting thread: they're addressed to one Santa Claus. Whatever freakish nightmare is causing this, we're going to catch it before it uses said letters to turn the world into a giant cookie or turn us all into snowmen— whatever clearly terrible plan it must have. We have no other leads beyond the letters— so, we're asking all personnel available to do one simple thing: write a letter to Santa. You'll need to take it seriously, we tried to send in a photo of a certain finger and it was returned in ashes.
Genuinely ask for a gift— and this thing should take your letter to whatever cave it lives in. We'll be attaching a tracker to each letter so that we can find the anomaly responsible, and deal with it faster than you can say “bah humbug.” No one get mind controlled this time, you hear? We can't afford that kind of insurance.
Ok, partial success. We've received a response from the anomaly. Honestly, I have no idea how they were able to find my address— at least I doubt it has anything to do with the chili of the month club I signed up for the other day. Anyway, the bad news, our trackers have all gone offline— either this thing is living in a deadzone, or another dimension.
Keep on your toes everyone— I don't like the sound of this. We'll be working behind the scenes to figure out a way to stop this thing from possibly delivering thousands of anomalous “gifts” around the world. In the meantime, I've got chili to try.
Oh, dearies, it seems there's been some sort of mistake— my name isn't Santa, but just this once, I'll give you a break. It's Sanda, I'll have you know, but don't worry— you shall receive your gifts, come rain, sleet, or snow. It won't be long now, I've got my elves hard at work— on Christmas you'll see them, like clockwork.
All of you should have a look at this, Sanda sent us some sort of psychic transmission— thing interrupted the discogolf match myself and a few others were watching in the break room. Anyway— she directly addresses several specific personnel who I've sent this message to, replying to your letters. I'll follow up with my thoughts after you see this.
You may all have spelled my name wrong, but that alone does not exclude you from my blessing. The holiday is for all to enjoy, no matter where they may call home— and yours is from a world unfamiliar to me, I’m guessing.
Emy
(Asked for lots of books)
Dearest, I hear your plea, and you shall receive— tomes and scrolls found in an ancient library beneath the Klugor sea.
Angela
(Asked for chocolate)
In this realm, we have heard no such thing of this “chocolate,” instead I shall give to you delectable gumskulls beloved by children in Yutux’tu.
Beanos
(Asked for shoe-polish-dipped ants and a DM's guide)
“Ants” are unfamiliar to me, however— to my surprise, we too have our own dungeon-master’s guide. So I gift to you with joy, the Guide to Running a Dungeon for Those Who Annoy, written by one Malak T’zokgoy.
TJ
(Asked for encouragement)
Encouragement is so easily lost, dear, so I shall send you an imp, to keep yours in check— and douse you in flame, should you object.
KajetanWrites
(Asked for world peace)
The kindest request is one for another, this is true, yet I know not which world contains you. So, in the spirit of the season, I shall grant your wish, and bring peace and equality to the war-torn Plash-26.
Jacklyn Ademal
(Asked for a lifetime supply of plastic bags)
Plastic was banned long ago, after a jumbo-sized bag killed my beloved Ar’lago. You must not have known, or you would dare not have asked— so I shall give you something better to last; a bottomless bag, sewn from the hairs of a vicious narlagash.
DaniAdventures' Kidlet
(Asked for a Nintendo Switch)
“Pokemon” does not mean a thing to my ear, but I do have something else for you, dear. Nintendo, in my realm, is a corporation that produces light switches— and so, I can grant your wish— that of receiving a Nintendo switch. (Note: do let me know if this one seems a bit too cruel or off as this is the only one that is an actual child to my knowledge, want to be careful)
The giving is complete with one final treat— knowledge that I am now watching, no matter how much you think yourselves discreet. Your devices will do nothing, I’m sure you will find, I know not where you come from or to whom you are aligned— but know this; one day the time will come for me to reach once more through the abyss.
The gifts she mentioned? Yeah, they turned up in the Pacific Garbage Patch, along with those meant for the rest of the world. Some crazed hermit took them a few hours ago— I wouldn't mess with him, he's somehow managed to fashion a gun out of milk cartons and soda cans. Wherever this Sanda comes from— her ability to properly transport things to our home seems to be limited. Maybe she needs space reindeer? Is she even in space? We're looking into it. For now, happy holidays— we didn't die this year.