Sunday, July 15, 2012



Dear Promensil,

My name is Sarah Bertrand, and I am a 28 year old marlin fisherman who enjoys television, the great Canadian game of curling, and brushing my cats.

Menopause is a transition in life that all women will eventually go through. Although I assume it is difficult and unpleasant, it's important for these women to remember they're normal. I am an advocate for medicating where medication is needed, and to help out your creative department I wrote a commercial. It's purpose is to illustrate to all the women that flip out over the most seemingly insignificant things, who feel crazy and out of control, that they're not alone.

It'll take place in a crowded mall, at Christmas time. Santa can be played by John Travolta, and the mother can maybe be played by Dakota Fanning, or Carol Burnett. The daughter can maybe be played by one of the Olsen twins.

Claire:
“Look sweetheart! There he is! Do you remember what you’re going to ask Santa for?”

Feather:
“Santa!”

Santa:
“HO HO HO! Meeeerry Christmas! Come over here, little child!”

Mom:
“You heard Santa, let’s go honey!”

*GIRL walks over to Santa. Santa awkwardly extends his hand to shake hers*

Feather:
“Santa!! I love you!”

Santa:
“And I, you!”

*GIRL throws her arms around Santa’s neck and hugs him tightly*

Claire:
“This is our first time coming to meet you Santa. And someone who’s been very good all year could hardly sleep last night because she was so excited!”

Feather:
“ME!!”

Santa:
“It makes Santa very happy when he hears children have been behaving! What’s your name??”

*GIRL crawls up onto Santa’s lap*

Santa:
“OH! Okay, so we're doing this...”

Feather:
“My name is Feather. And I would like a Batman, and a baseball glove, Santa. Please!”

Santa:
“Wow, Feather. Santa thinks you may have him confused with a genie! Anything else, your Majesty?”

Mom:

*narrows eyes, purses mouth*

“Careful, Santa.”

Santa:
“HO HO HO! Alright, Little Boy! I will bring you the hoard of presents that you requested.

*looks at MOM*

You look familiar. Do I know you?”

Feather:

*GIRL looks confused*

“What... Mommy...?”

Claire:

“Um, please don’t talk to my DAUGHTER that way. What’s wrong with you? And no, you don't.”

Santa:
“Well why do you have her all done up like that? She looks like a boy.”

Claire:
“Done up... She’s wearing pink!”

Santa:
“She’s hasn’t got any hair.”

Claire:
“She’s wearing a hat! And she’s five!”

Santa:
“Alright, little GIRL. Your Mommy doesn’t understand that androgynous names and unisex clothing are sometimes confusing to other people. No matter! I will present you with this symbol of Christmas; a delicious candy cane.”

Feather:
“CANDY!!!”

Santa:

*looks at MOM*

“You might want to take that from her. This mall's on a budget, so it's probably stale. I'm sure I've seen you before. Do you shop here a lot?”

Claire:

“No, I don't. Listen, all Feather wanted was to tell Santa what she would like for Christmas, and to give you a hug and make sure that you were real. I'm trying to give her that experience. You`ve given her the candy cane, now can you please tell her you’ll bring her the TWO presents she asked for??”

Santa:
“You’re right. I’m sorry; it won’t happen again. I’ll try and speed this up. So, Feather, are you a hippy like your mom? Instead of a Batman, would you like a hacky sack?”

Claire:
“Jesus!”

Santa:
“No, but we have the same birthday! Listen Lady, I'm just trying to have a definitive answer on what she wants, to help YOU out. So instead of you bringing her those lesbian toys, she might change her mind and want a hemp anklet or some Snapple.”

Claire:
“Come on Feather, we're leaving.”

Feather:
“Bye Santa!”

Santa:
“Shit Feather, sorry. Listen, you'll get those two presents you wanted, even though most little girls only ask for one. So rest assured, your mom will bring you all that crap you asked for.”

Feather:
“My mom… I thought you were going to bring it?”

Santa:
“Shit.”

Feather:
“That’s a bad word.”

Santa:
“Sorry, yes. Ahh. That is what I said, little girl. I’ll bring it. You can take that straight to the bank.

*winks at Feather*

Are you SURE we've never met before. I can't quite put my finger on it, but I swear Santa knows you. Maybe he's... seen you when you were sleeping? Heh heh heh...”

Claire:
“Excuse me, this is so inappropriate!

*lowers voice and says angrily*

You are paid to ‘be’ Santa, so what is your issue?”

Santa:
“In the spirit of not having any more complaints lodged at St. Nick, I will tell you what my ‘issue’ is. Every year, people come and they tell me what it is I can do for them. Bring them. To make them happy. No one asks me how my day is going. How I'm doing. What does SANTA need.”

Claire:
“That... is the biggest load of garbage I have ever heard! How are you possibly making yourself into a victim when you applied for this job? You need to be responsible for your actions, and remember that you're working with children.”

Santa:
“That's it! That's where I know you from! The security office! Last week!”

Claire:
“Alright Feather, get your coat, Santa has other little girls and boys to see today...”

Santa:
“I knew it was you!”

Claire:
“It wasn't! *closes eyes and starts spinning* Why is it so hot in here?!”

Santa:
“It WAS! When I was rummaging through the lost and found putting together an outfit, you were dragged into the security office for assaulting that child!”

Claire:
“I did not ASSAULT him. It was hot, and crowded, and I was on a deadline. There are only so many shopping days left before Christmas, you know.”

Santa:
“That kid was trying to watch the Christmas Carolers sing in the food court. Are you okay? I thought I was supposed to be the one with the rosy cheeks.”

Claire:
“He was distracting everyone! It feels like I’m standing in a puddle of lava!”

Santa:
“He was singing along!”

Claire:
“It was all a misunderstanding.”

Santa:
“You yelled, ‘Timberrrr!’, and pushed that artificial tree onto him. And then you told him he sang like a sissy. Security was passing around the report. Classic.”

Feather:
“Mom... that's bad. What's a sissy?”

Claire:
“Feather, Mommy's patience was stolen from her by the turtleneck from Sears that Daddy bought last minute because he forgot Mommy's birthday. You can't Christmas shop with a sweaty neck. I can't breathe, I can't breathe in this.”
*starts tugging at neck of sweater*

Santa:
“You are some piece of work, Lady.”

Claire:
“This is absurd. Come on honey, let's go.”

Feather:
“Bye Santa! I'll leave you cookies and carrots for your reindeer!”

Claire:
“Feather, Santa isn't real! Grow up.”

FIN

You could end it with your logo, and Claire sitting in an ice bath, smiling at a bottle of Promensil, waiting for it to take effect.
Thank you so much for your time. I look forward to hearing from your company.

Sincerely,
Sarah Bertrand

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