Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus.
Papa says, "If you see it in THE DAILY BUGLE it's so."
Please tell me the truth; is there a Santa Claus?
115 WEST NINETY-FIFTH STREET.
VIRGINIA, your little friends have a promising future in journalism. Who accepts any blasted story he hears on the street as fact? Around here I call him Ben Urich and he's fired. You heard me, Urich! Clean out your desk! Get the blazes outta here. This story is crap! Crap! Crap! Who are you trying to fool with this Daredevil story? Everybody knows Matt Murdock is as blind as half of Sandy Duncan. Go ahead, smart guy, tell me how a blind man can be Daredevil? Next thing you'll be telling me is that I'M Daredevil! You wanna see me in spandex tights swinging around the office? NO! Nobody wants to see that. Because I'm a journalist and a journalist gets the story! Okay, you're unfired. Fill up your desk again. Go out there and get the story. I want quotes, denials, pictures. Take Parker with you. Where's Parker? PARKER!
Yes, VIRGINIA, your friends are right to be suspicious about Santa Claus. Just because you see him on every street corner doesn't mean he's real. I see Spider-Man all the time and he's no real hero, I tell you. I've seen some of these con-artists and bums masquerading as Santa Claus down in Times Square and at Macy's and I wouldn't give them a seafood dinner if they were King Namor of Atlantis! You know why? Because they can't prove it. Where's the reindeer, where's the sleigh, where's the presents? I'm gonna come right out and call each and every one of those Broadway Santas a big fat fraud. What're you gonna do, fatties? Sue me? I know more lawyers than you know elves.
Not believe in Santa Claus! That's the kind of no-nonsense, forward-looking view I want to see in an investigative reporter. You might as well believe another planet crashed into us this summer! That's outrageous! I'll tell you what I told Parker: no photos, no story. This is a picture newspaper, dammit! If we can get a picture of Donald Trump giving a Nazi salute, we can certainly get a picture of a planet crashing into the Earth. But does anybody ever think about what I want? No! A little piece and quiet is all I want. And pictures of Spider-Man! Get me pictures of Spider-Man! Get out of here, Parker!
You may tear apart the baby's rattle and see what makes the noise inside, and that's the only thing that's gonna get you is the low-down story on those snake-filled baby rattles from Doctor Octopus. You think I got two Pulitzers sitting here at this desk and yelling at Parker to get me pictures of Santa Claus? No! I got them looking out this window and peering into the hearts and minds of every man, woman, and child in this city. And I know what they want. They want honest, solid journalism about corruption, crime, and Spider-Man! Ah, VIRGINIA, in this entire world there's nothing else more real and abiding than catching Spider-Man with his pants down. Metaphorically speaking.
So yes, VIRGINIA, there IS a Spider-Man. He's a threat and a menace, Thank God! for the increase in circulation every time we put one of those Spider-Man photos on the front page by Parker that looks like he shot it through cobwebs. Yes, Spider-Man will continue to threaten you and your family, and the only place you can count on to tell the truth is the DAILY BUGLE. And about this Santa Claus thing: there's only one way to tell for sure. If you don't get absolutely everything you wanted on your Christmas list, every single toy and doll and hula hoop or whatever it is you kids want it's because Spider-Man killed Santa Claus.
Dictated but not read,
J. JONAH JAMESON