Cartas ao Pai Natal (versão shakespeariana)

E se as personagens inventadas pelo bardo de Stratford-upon-Avon escrevessem ao Pai Natal, como é que seriam as suas cartas? No site da revista McSweeney’s, Caroline Bicks e Michelle Ephraim dedicaram-se a esse exercício de pastiche natalício e o resultado é hilariante.
Gosto especialmente do que escreveram Hamlet, Macbeth e Falstaff:

«Dear Santa,
The trifles you brought me last year meant absolutely nothing. What’s the point of gifts when everything is falling to shit all around you? Why didn’t you steal the family account information I left out for you last year? That would have meant something.
Do you ever feel like everything is just a big conspiracy? Do you ever want to hurl yourself out of your sled and fall down, down, down onto the cold hard street below?
Look out for the slings and arrows.
— Hamlet

***

Hail, Santa, King of the Elves!
Many thanks for the male-enhancement products you brought me last year. But as my wife has since forsworn me, I will not be needing them again. Hence, I devote this year’s list to her Christmas wishes. She demands the following items:

— A gift certificate for LATTICE eyelash treatment
— A Wonderbra (size: 36D; color: Midnight Animal)
— Arctic-raised Reindeer Pâté
— “Buns of Steel” DVD
— Dolce & Gabbana Bling Sunglasses
— One ticket to Barack Obama’s 2010 New Year’s Day Brunch [or another exclusive political event]

Santa, may I be frank? My Lady says that if she does not receive all of these anon, she will fly into a murderous rage. Just thought you should know.
— Macbeth

***

Santa!
I had this crazy dream that I ate your reindeer. But then this morning your face appeared in a puddle of maple syrup. So I licked you up.
— Falstaff»



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«Tenho a suspeita de que a espécie humana - a única - está prestes a extinguir-se e que a Biblioteca perdurará: iluminada, solitária, infinita, perfeitamente imóvel, armada de volumes preciosos, inútil, incorruptível, secreta» Jorge Luis Borges