From THE DARK NIGHT OF SANTA'S SOUL
(An existential one-act play for kids of all ages)

SANTA
Wow. I am a jolly motherfucker. I feel like the worst piece of ass on the planet, and I couldn't look happier. What a fraud I am.

How the hell is it possible that I exist? Everyone with half a brain in their body realizes that I don't. And so they can't see me. I'm like snuffle-fucking-upeguss. I wonder what would happen if I didn't believe in me. Would I cease to exist? I mean, if people can't see me once they lose faith, then do I just disappear once I realize once and for all that I cannot conceivably exist?

Or, am I stuck here forever. Waiting for people to finally wise up. Waiting for the last person to finally say, "Santa? No fucking way!" and then wink out of existence

Aw hell. As long as there are mental retards, there will always be a Santa. No one will ever spill the beans to them. What kind of monster tells a 45-year-old mongoloid that there's no Santa?