Dear Jessica and Brian,
Sorry for posting this publicly on Funny Or Die but neither of you are speaking to me right now and I know you both go to this site sometimes.
I would like to formally apologize for replacing your Elf on the Shelf with a Chucky doll. It was ENORMOUSLY shortsighted on my part and I know that now. It’s just that when Mom kicked me out last year I left the goddang thing in the attic, completely forgetting you’d be spending two weekends with me in December. Honestly, I forgot the guy even existed until Thursday night when you were like, “ELF ON THE SHELF IS BACK TOMORROW!!”
As I sure as hell wasn’t popping over to your mom and “Gregory”’s place, I figured I’d just secretly buy you a new one and no one would be the wiser. Now, you kids are young, so I don’t expect you to know this but it is IMPOSSIBLE to buy an Elf on the Shelf on November 30th. They were sold out EVERYWHERE and I went to TWO (OK one) different places!
What I did find, and what I DEEPLY REGRET, was the Chucky doll that is currently trying to murder us. I wish I could say I didn’t know that was gonna happen but, full disclosure, the gypsy I bought it from did give me a head’s up. She was like, “This is Chucky. He kills people and there are no refunds.” I should have just taken my business elsewhere but it was almost 8 p.m. at this point and I needed something to hide for you guys to find when you woke up. Plus, at seven bucks, the price was right.
Now, as is tradition with Elf on the Shelf, when you kids wake up you’re not supposed to know where he is. What I didn’t see coming, though, was I didn’t know where he was either! Which is nuts cause I’m the one who hid him!! I put him on top of the toilet before bed so you can imagine my surprise when I got up and he wasn’t there.
Here’s the part where I failed you as a father. I’ll never forget the look on either of your faces when Chucky ran out from under the bed yelling, “Jessica and Brian, I’m gonna cut your fucking throats out!!” I CAN’T BELIEVE he threatened you like that PLUS you both know that the F-word is not allowed in this house. The problem is, you see, Chucky is not just a doll but also host to the soul of Charles Lee Ray, a voodoo serial killer from Chicago. (PLEASE do not mention this to your mother — she’s mad enough I let you have sugar cereal.)
I feel like a COMPLETE jerk. Elf on the Shelf is supposed to be a nice Christmas doll that gets us in the spirit and I went and ruined it by replacing him with a doll that has waged a path of terror and left several people we care about dead. (Also, your dog I’M SORRY!! Good news is I already got you a new one. His name’s Cujo and he seems great.)
The one silver lining (and I know this is a reach) is that, much like Elf of the Shelf, we do need to work together to find Chucky. It’s just less of a game now and more of a life-saving thing. Think of it as Elf On a Shelf but with higher stakes.
While writing this, I noticed a trail of bloody footprints leading into the living room. I suggest we start there. Brian, I say you go first, followed by Jessica, followed by me. (I’ll go last cause I’m more of a “supervisor” than a “front lines” kinda guy. Plus, Brian, you’re so good at finding things —member when you found Daddy’s slippers?)
Anyways, I hope you guys forgive me and we can move past this sooner than later. I promise to make it up to you if we all survive till Christmas. (Fingers crossed!)
P.S. – Chucky has cut the phone lines so, if you do forgive me, call my cell. Don’t call the house number.