You fucking freak of an elf. I haven't asked you for shit in fifteen years, and you've done a good job of delivering. I never ask for anything, because--Mr. "Father Christmas"--you've been quite the deadbeat. I wish I could sue you for back child support.
All I've ever asked your sorry work-one-day-a-year ass for is a vacation so that my husband can get rid of the bags under his eyes and look his frickin' age. Did you deliver? Half-assedly, yeah. Went right back to work with unpaid overtime. These freak of nature college students around here are walking around wearing Prada and carrying Louis Vuitton bags to class and you couldn't even do me the favor of working some magic so that I can get a full tank of gas?
Damn it, I don't ask for much, but when it's cold outside and I'm scared to turn the heat on in the car for fear of using up my last teaspoon of gas, that's just a shame.
Fix the gee-dee economy if you expect anyone around here to have a Merry frickin' Christmas.
And what's up with your friend the Tooth Fairy? She gives all these kids money for losing teeth but hasn't left me a damn dime to get my cavities filled? Shameful. Do you know how much dental insurance copays are? I guess not with you being "immortal" and all. I bet your teeth are platinum-plated, eh?
Whatever. The last time I sat on your lap in Macy's you smelled like booze and had a scary glimmer in your eye.
Fucking lush. I hope your reindeer go on strike and leave your sorry ass stranded in Compton on Christmas day so that
you can see all those kids you "forget" every year. And you wonder why kids join gangs.
That's all for now. I'll sleep well tonight knowing I don't have to spend my last $4 on cookies and eggnog for
your obese ass. As a matter of fact--do drop by this year. Our chimney needs to be cleaned badly and you--you
big cotton ball of a man--would be the perfect swab for it.
Love, Tiffany
P.S.: I've been very good this year.