Like “Silent Night” playing in the supermarket, it feels as if the debate over the “War on Christmas” starts up earlier every year. From pundits crying foul over saying “Happy Holidays” to priests bloviating about the “reason for the season,” you’d think there was an all-out assault on Christ, Christmas, and Christianity somehow taking place just under your nose.
Well, listen up, turds, because you’re goddamn right there is. The War on Christmas is real, and Purell hand sanitizer is leading the charge with a trench knife between our fucking teeth.
Here at Purell, we’re not only dedicated to killing germs—we’re 100 percent committed to wiping the Christ child from the annals of history like a skid mark pissed off a gas station toilet bowl. That’s why, the second the clock strikes 12:01 a.m. on December 26, every one of our employees starts gearing up for another frenzied year of tearing the guts out of Christmas, one inch of pine-scented intestine at a time.
Brace yourselves, because the Purell anti-yule blitz is barreling down on America. We’re rolling out packaging without a hint of Christmas iconography and cranking out seasonal jingles without sleigh bells. We’re taking out a half-page ad for Purell sanitizing wipes in the Times, and we’re only going to slap one snowflake on there front and center. Yup, just one dinky-ass milk-white snowflake, devoid of all fucking Christian sentiment!
…we’re 100 percent committed to wiping the Christ child from the annals of history like a skid mark pissed off a gas station toilet bowl.
The stuff that’s making the news these days—Lowe’s selling “holiday trees,” Starbucks taking Christmas imagery off its red cups, public schools secularizing their winter festivities? Let me tell you, folks, that shit’s just the tip of the spear of Longinus that Purell is poised to ram down America’s throat. When the real shit starts to rain down, there’s not going to be any more little chit-chats about if multiculturalism’s getting out of hand, because what we’re cooking up’s gonna make the Grinch look like a goddamn one-muppet Salvation Army.
Do I relish this duty? Hell yes I do. I may be the head honcho over here at Purell, but when it comes to the War on Christmas, I’m as much a foot soldier as our mailboy. So when the Santas are driven out of the malls, I’ll be piling up the presents and shaking gasoline out onto ho-ho-ho wrapping paper. When the Rockefeller Plaza tree is fed into a big-ass woodchipper, I’ll be lobbing ornaments at gawking ice skaters. And when the very last “Merry Christmas” is ever uttered, I hope to hell it’s my two thumbs digging into whatever filthy windpipe gasped it out. That’ll be my holiday bonus.
So enjoy your wonderful lives before we light up every frame of celluloid for the Nativity effigies, and if you hear something on the roof, it’s already too late. Holiday Year Zero is right around the corner, brought to you by Purell and our corporate partners. The time for sowing in the shadows is past. Now begins the reaping.
How do you spell relief from decades of Santa’s boot on America’s neck? P-U-R-E-L-L, baby.