The traditionalist Clausians are enraged by your continued heresy
No one appreciates your attempts to inject personal tolerance and openness into their Christmas doctrinal canon. Rather than smiling charitably and politely waving you off, they become angry with you, a harsh anger that can only come during the cold, stressful holiday season. You cannot even fully appreciate the rage that you've inspired with your speech on the open, adaptable nature of Santa Claus; it is an anger even worse than that reserved for people who steal presents and double-park on busy shopping days. Red faces, hot, watery-eyes, fury making their brains boil and steam inside their skulls.
Then it comes. A hard wallop to the back of your head. The brass candlestick is wet with blood. Again, and again. Everything goes out so fast. The last thing you see is Santa's face, a splatter painting of his face, on the wall, or is it the floor? Is it really him? There he is, and there you are.
Those cheeks, those rosy cheeks.
