Ah…Christmas. The day all of Christianity celebrates the birth of the most famous Mexican-by-way-of-Israel-and/or-Palestine of all time, Jesus Humberto Christ. And for him they cease regular rock & roll music on the radio for Bing Crosby, Dean Martin and Nat King Cole, everyone shops like they were not allowed to for the previous 11 months, and NO ONE remembers how to drive. Bland hams will be prepared, chocolate chip cookies will inexplicably be invaded by Macadamia nuts and sweaters will be received. Static-inducing, fuse-blowing, hair by Yahoo Serious-invoking, hang-dry-only-despite-it-being-the-21st-damn-century sweaters will then be RETURNED.

But hey, at least there will be good TV while we wait for the Writer’s Strike to end. Merry Christmas Charlie Brown! — I will break plans to stay home and watch this. Then again, I do the same thing if My Cousin Vinny is on. Same with How the Grinch Stole Christmas, the animated one with Boris Karloff doing the narration (did you know that?). Like Holiday Schweddy Balls, good times, good times.

So I thought I’d hitch the ol’ Mini Cooper behind these reindeer I stole from this guy in a fat suit and fly across comicdom, giving gifts to all the good folks both inside and outside the covers. And with these flying deer, I don’t have to waste gas, and when I’m done, I can shoot ‘em and make sausage out of ‘em. They’re a green fuel source and completely recyclable! How’s that for being environmentally friendly? And if all of a sudden we start seeing commercials for the “Ford Blitzen” you’ll know where they got the idea from.

Over the river and through the Bronx and across the bridge (through the toll booth — what Commie bastard came up with that idea anyway?) to the Houses of Marvel and DC we go.

For the man who edits everything, Tom Brevoort, I bring the gift of more elves! Go forth, assistants, and hose down Bendis’ scripts. Make sure Yu’s got the deaf people facing the right way. And bring the boss man a big frothy milkshake for being such a good sport with me this year.

For the man who writes everything Bendis doesn’t, Ed Brubaker, I bring 300 feet of good, strong Boondock Saints brand rope, like Charlie Bronson might use. Ed’s at his best when he’s doing noir, be it Sleeper, Criminal, and to some degree even Captain America. You never know when some rope might come in handy, for escaping a heist or tying up a witness. Or, or example, one might want to tie Brubaker to the Captain America desk for at awhile. 2038 would be awhile, right?

For the writer who consistently makes me smile the most, Dan Slott, I bring you a Sandbox! You can build your own Slottverse in it. It will be the place where underutilized characters get their much deserved chance to shine, from the Awesome Android to Mister Immortal. And you can have one “primetime” character too, except for Wolverine (overkill) and Cap (’cause Bru killed him). Man, a Slott Spidey would rock, wouldn’t it? And I’d bet he wouldn’t make him break up with MJ, he’d just make them swingers with Flash Thompson, Felecia Hardy and the CEO of Jack In The Box. And Terry Dodson could draw it. Happy Holidays!

For the man who ruins marriages, Joe Quesada, I leave a lump of coal. You can draw some black and white Daredevil comics with it, and tout them as being “Now In Murdoch-Vision! (TM)” You’ll probably sell a ton of ‘em, just to irk me. But hey, it’s your coal, you earned it, do whatever ya want with it. Maybe if you clench it tightly enough you can make it your retirement fund.

For the biggest douchebag in comics, Tony Stark, I leave you a Johnnie Walker Gift Box. Two tall bottles of Black and Red, two whisky tumblers and a CD of The Best of George Thorogood and the Destroyers so you can listen to “I Drink Alone” while you use your X-Ray lens filters to check out Ms. Marvel, Wasp and Black Widow during “debriefings.” You manipulated Spidey, more or less killed Cap and hired the Green Goblin. When South Park does their next “Biggest Douche In The Universe” episode, guess who’s gonna win? That’s right, your Extremis-filled ass. Skrull Douchebag.

For Namor the Sub-Mariner, I give you a year in the sun. It’s time you were a bigger player in the Marvel Universe. You control Atlantis, and by extension much if not all of the world’s oceans. That makes you sovereign of three-fourths of the planet. And yet Magneto, who ruled over one dinky little island, had defense protocols named after him and you, you get to be the tough guy of the Illuminati. Namor Leonard McKenzie the First, King of Atlantis, your time is now! IMPERIUS REX!

Happy holidays to Captain Mar-Vell. I didn’t get you anything, because, you know, you’re dead. Or supposed to be. But the Stark Skrull Douchebag yanked you past your death to the future just so you could watch him incarcerate your friends. But since you’re here, have some cookies. They’re homemade sandwich cookies, kinda like Oreos. I was going to give them to the Martian Manhunter when I get over to DC, but he REALLY doesn’t need them. Anyway, when you die again for the first time, say hello to Ben Parker for everyone.

Onward to DC! Up, up, and…oh, we’re here? Already? Wow. You guys are so close to each other, Marvel and DC. It’s a shame you all can’t just get along. Everybody likes crossovers, even the Grinch. Lessee now, where’s that other bag…

For the man with the plan, Dan DiDio, I bring a big case of White-Out. There will be some universes you’ll want to White-Out and start over. Any of them that feature Jimmy Olsen as a superhero, for example, would be a good place to start splashing that liquid paper around. Or maybe you have one in a drawer where Batman of all people ascends to “New God” status? Go ahead and start splashing that “milk of mistake” on there and nip it in the bud.

For the wild man of WildStorm, Jim Lee, I give you a shiny new universe, The WildStorm Universe v4.0. Or is it 5.0? Hard to tell anymore, ain’t it? But this one is brand new, never opened, and can be programmed to produce any number of incredible comics. But it’s a bitch to fix if you screw it up so take your time, read the instructions, and do it right. Not compatible with all DCU characters. May require the use of two 9-volt batteries and Rags Morales, not included.

For the talented writer of Barry Ween, Boy Genius and the guy who bored me to tears on Green Lantern and The Outsiders, Judd Winick, I bring you your own trades of the Barry Ween series. Read them again. Because they are SO much fun, and all of your superhero stuff, well, it’s not much fun at all. I’d read some new Barry Ween in a heartbeat. Just don’t make everyone gay. We get it, already. Message received. Move on. How the Internet managed to drive Chuck Austen away before you I’ll never understand. And by the way, I snuck “Starman” Matt Morrison in while you weren’t looking. Enjoy 2008. I know I will.

For the underrated Tony Bedard, I give you a major series. How about the Justice League? Or one of the Superman titles? I can’t stand Superman, but I might read it just to see how you approach it. You’re too solid not to get a turn at the top. I’ve heard it said that you’re not spectacular, but you don’t mess much up either. Hey, if you were a politician with those qualities you’d be the most beloved elected official since FDR. Personally, I think that’s a shortsighted assessment. You’ve never been given a big book that everyone can see you succeed or fail on such a scale before. Exiles was fun and Birds of Prey hasn’t been at all disappointing despite my fear when Gail Simone left. Heck, if it was up to me, you could bring Retro Rocket to the party too. That was a TON of fun. Happy New Year, Tony!

For the woman who’s constantly on the edge, Manhunter, I give you your series back. No more stay of executions at the 11th hour. You can stay for as long as Andreyko cares to write you. Think of it as viral marketing. You may never sell like Batman, but those of us who enjoy following your exploits are a loud and rowdy bunch. We let EVERYONE know how great your book is, and we probably mention Birds of Prey, Suicide Squad, Checkmate and Simon Dark too. So stick around and everybody wins!

For Ted Kord, who as we all know is dead, I give you a sprinkle of Bendis and Quesada’s Magic Faerie Dust. Use it to bring yourself back to life like Captain Marvel. Play it smart though, and stay in Booster Gold’s book, which is a heck of a ride, I might add. If you exist outside of time itself, you should be safe from future murders, more or less, right? Unless Captain Atom shows up, then all bets are off.

For Jason Todd, who as we all know was better off dead, I bring you a briefcase. I got it at the Vertigo Gift Shoppe. Inside you’ll find a gun and 100 bullets. 99 of them are blanks. One of them has your name on it. Roulette anyone? Das Vidanya, Tovarische.

And finally, for all of my readers and friends around the world, I wish you health, happiness, great comics and a more stable and picture-friendly experience here at the Nexus. I probably could have got some to work this week, but my time is growing short. Here’s to a super-great 2008! *CLINK!*

Next week at the other job is gonna suck, so I’ll return in two weeks and likely with pictures again! Until then, I’ll be printing year-end statements on shoddy, poorly maintained equipment for the next week.

Welcome to my nightmare.

Last 5 posts by Jeff Ritter

• Welcome To My Nightmare - February 21st, 2008
• Welcome To My Nightmare - February 14th, 2008
• Welcome To My Nightmare - January 31st, 2008
• Welcome To My Nightmare - January 24th, 2008
• Welcome To My Nightmare - January 17th, 2008